My new coaching partner work colleague is a young girl in her late twenties. She moved here with her husband and two toddler boys from Las Vagas where she was born and raised. We all know that there is just no place like home. And if home is in the deep south, there is really no place like home. She was born and raised in the desert of Nevada. During our drought she reported to me that it was raining every night at her house in Covington. I finally asked her how she could possibly think this, and she said, "because my grass is wet every morning when I walk to my car."
I showed her the ox lots in downtown Covington and explained to her the reason for the layout banked on the winding river. Our next adventure will be Franklinton. She has already put the Fair on her list.
Her in-laws were visiting from out west and had her facetime me because they found somebody's Louisiana pet turtle in her back yard. I looked at it and said it was a Louisiana turtle, but only a pet if they put it in a cage. I then explained that the pointed nose meant it was a snapping turtle, not tamed and would bite. She has been commenting on the security cameras constantly notifying her things are moving in her back yard. I explained that she had an abundance of wildlife dropping in to visit when all was quiet in her backyard which backed up to a drainage ditch and woods.
Never having a yard with grass, she continued to ask me questions. She even snipped a piece of wild vine off a stop sign at the corner of her street, and we had to have "the talk" about allergic reactions to some vines we consider poisonous. It was not long before I reached the conclusion that she was going to need a Southern Living magazine. At lunch we ran over to a local drug store to grab one and have her begin reading it from one end to the other. I knew of no other quick manual that could acclimatize her to our area.
She commented on there being a lot of decorated tables and recipes. I reminded her she told me the food was one of the things that drove her to relocate to our region, taking on the brave new title of "Come Here People." I showed her Rick Braggs and The Grumpy Gardener. And to my surprise one was mentioned in the other. This brought home a sure message that we are indeed a village in our humid mosquito infested lands.
In her celebration of owning her own little postage stamp with grass she wondered how to get the weeds out and the grass to fill in. I said, "Ask the Grumpy Gardner. He answers everything." She seemed skeptical, so I did the quick, "Asking for a Yankee Friend." Within the hour he responded, "Tell her to put down a crabgrass preventer like Scott's Halts in early spring. Then fertilize her good grass a couple of weeks later to help it thicken up."
I must say I was quite proud of My South. Her family thought she was crazy when she announced she was moving her little family down to our wild jungle. Many times, throughout the years in traveling, I have had people describe our area as people with web feet, dinosaur sized alligators and droves of snakes and bugs.
Maybe, but we also have the best skin from living in a sauna about nine months out of the year. We have sweet tea that can only be the right sweet down here. We have food that makes the taste buds not only do their job but do a metaphorical dance. We proudly create a need for antiacids and rejoice in this talent. We have wildlife that happily shares our space, digging holes to lay eggs, nibbling on those weeds in the grass and playing acrobats in our trees.
And as she reminded me one day, "we have history." I had never really stopped to think about how rich our history is in the south with generations built on generations of tough perseverant landowners with great skin. And we have the most entertaining and informative survival guides to life in the south. I'm buying her a year's subscription. While the wilds of our region swarm and snap outside her door in weed filled grass, at least she can set a mean table with savory southern style and flavor!
