Y'all Come Back Now, Ya Here!

My friend Jessica said that Noah was a bi-coastal baby while we were back east in North Carolina visiting family and friends this month--and I guess she's right.

Though I had never thought of it that way--I had always thought of Noah Finn as a left coast tot--he'd be missing an awful lot if he didn't fess up to his deep dark southern roots . . . and appreciate them. North Carolina vinegar-based BBQ, hushpuppies, sweet tea, humidity so thick you sweat getting out of the shower, nighttime choruses of insects and frogs, sea oat covered sand dunes and a seashelly warm Atlantic are all foreign west of The Mississippi and north of Virginia. Sure California has the rich and glamorous, the walk of fame and Malibu . . . but North Carolina has red necks with gun racks in their pick up trucks and hog hollerin' contests. The southern experience is a hidden treasure trove of little gems--to be enjoyed in small doses, but enjoyed nonetheless.

Every time I go back "home" to the southeast I enjoy it a little bit more. Perhaps it's because the longer I live here in California (going on 9 years now), the more all of the things that used to be familiar become foreign, thus, exciting and new.

I hope that we are able to someday somehow foster an appreciation in Noah for the beauty of the old abandoned farm houses, long drawled accents and lush tobacco fields. We'll have to be sure he visits, and visits often. We'll have to be sure he experiences the green scenic drive from Raleigh to the Outer Banks--we'll even be sure to pass through Beulaville again on the way and hope that we spot the same three shirtless drunk guys standing roadside wearing Viking-horned hats and waving beers in the air after a late afternoon summertime downpour.

Viva la fried okra! Viva la grits! Viva la Dixie, Darling!

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