Wednesday, February 20, 2013


After looking at my last post, I realize I have talked about the South a teensy bit too much.  I have to admit here, that I am a transplant.  They call my kind 'half backs' around here.  'Half backs', because in the 80's, many New Yorkers (where I was born) moved to Florida.  Now, we have moved 'half' way back.

'Half back' was almost my trail name, but most stinky hikers would just think 'football lesbian'.  So my trail name is Bird.  ...not to get off track or anything...

I was only 4 when my family was relocated to Florida.  So I grew up there, but not with southerners.  Everyone I knew in Florida was in the same situation, we were all from NY.

I went to college in NC, then returned to Fl.  When I finally grew up, I came back to NC.  It's a nice place.  I have since embraced the beauty of being a southerner and all the eccentricities that go along with it.  I have learned to love grits, and to make chicken and dumplings the right way.  ..if you find a recipe that plops big spoonfuls of dough on top of bubbling chicken and gravy, it is very wrong.  Well, not wrong, just not southern.  That's chicken and biscuits.  Dumplings are rolled flat then cut into egg noodle like flecks.  And they taste like heaven.

I only write this, because I am going to cook shrimp and grits for dinner.  The recipe I'm going to follow, or at least the one I'm going to reference a time or two for suggestions, calls for 'red eye gravy.'  Which is just gravy made from this morning's cold, leftover coffee.  Makes perfect sense, right?

Descriptors here are earthy and colorful, intelligent and witty.   My son is 'as tough as a pine knot'.  Her breath smells so bad that it would knock a buzzard off a shit wagon.  ...and those are just the beginning.

So I think I'm going to stay. Hopefully, everyone here will continue to overlook my northern roots, because no one is perfect.

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