Southern Living, Pt 1

I was not quite 12 when we moved from the Philadelphia, Pennsylvania suburbs to New Orleans, Louisiana. My Naval officer Dad was transferred with 2.5 years left in his career. I was bitter, but I was 11. Eleven-year-olds are bitter.

It was January. I left a place that was so cold I needed all the outerwear one could buy at Burlington Coat Factory.  We moved to a place that required a windbreaker and maybe gloves. The air was moist and the skies were gray in Louisiana in the winter. I soon learned the air was always moist in Louisiana.

Louisiana wasn’t my first foray in to the South. We lived in Florida when I was younger. That was also the South. Well, in terms of geography it was south. Geography was what mattered to this sixth grader. I also visited my Grandparents down south in Virginia.

There are things I wish I had known as a child prior to moving to the South. Later I returned there as an Army wife. Memories of living in the South as a child made my adult transition into the world of all things Southern a bit smoother than it otherwise would have been. After all, some drama can be avoided just by knowing what you are getting into.

Well Bless Your Heart

The South to 11-year-old me meant Southern accents and hot summers. Little did I know.

Bugs are a thing. The worst of all the bug experiences was definitely when I lived in Louisiana. Hello, Swamp City! If a critter likes hot and moist, you will find it somewhere in Louisiana.

Also, add Florida to that list. Florida has bugs as big as gators. Alas, you are in the South. Plan on getting friendly with the bugs and the exterminator.

In Florida my Mom stepped in a fireant hill. She discovered she was allergic to them since they attacked the whole lower half of her body. I don’t remember a lot, just that she was as red as a tomato from the waist down. It wasn’t a sunburn. (I was four. My memories of adults are mostly from the waist down).

Bottom line: Don’t step in ant hills, especially fire ant hills.

In the South having bugs in your house does not mean your home is dirty, like finding roaches in New York City or your hotel room. They are just among your most unpleasant of neighbors.

I have a few roach stories, as do most who have lived in the South. In Florida a roach crawled across my sister’s face while she was asleep in her bed. She felt tickles across her face as she came out of her slumber. She knew what happened because when she lifted her pillow, a roach sat there like tooth fairy money. She screamed. Loudly.

In Louisiana giant roaches regularly came into our family room through the chimney flying like drones. This usually happened after we mowed the yard. Did you know that mowing stirs up the roach nests?  Apparently, we had a few in our yard.

If you’re not totally grossed out by this point, keep on reading.  Otherwise skip to “What in the Sam Hill?”

By the time I moved to Georgia as an adult with our first Army PCS after lieutenant school, I was determined not to have roaches in my house. I immediately failed.  There was one waxed into my 1960’s military -grade linoleum floor. But that would be the only one! Or so I proclaimed.

I obsessively cleaned up the crumbs and goo left by my sweet three- and five-year-old boys after their pbj sandies. I knew the sticky and crumbs would just draw bugs. I had moderate success with this routine. But still, my creepy visitors returned after the mowers made their weekly pass-through.

By year two in the house, I learned to spray the exterior of my windows with an outdoor ant and roach spray. Remember those stirred up roach nests? The morning of our scheduled mowing, I applied roach and ant spray. IT WAS AMAZING!

Bottom line: Keep your food cleaned up and spray the exterior of your windows just prior to mowing to best combat the largest of the creepy crawlers.

Heavens to Betsy!

In Louisiana we also had something called Formosan termites. They migrate through different neighborhoods every year. The first spring we didn’t have them in our neighborhood, so we didn’t know about them. They were an unwelcome novelty when they arrived the second spring we were in that house.

One evening I plodded upstairs to bed. I remember being “fall into bed” tired. But what looked like little grains of rice on the hall carpet caught my eye.

I hastily called down to my parents, “We have maggots!”.

The Lost Boys came out on VHS about a year before.  So naturally, I thought if it was a wiggly piece of rice, it must be a maggot. I was suddenly wide awake.

We found the wiggly rice near the shower. They danced around the drain of the sink too. Then I opened the bathroom linen closet. They covered the ceiling of the linen closet! I wanted to vomit.

Dad called the exterminator the next day. Our visitors weren’t maggots, which are fly larva, but termites that have shed their wings. Still super gross. The exterminator treated the house and told us to keep the house clean, dry and dark when they swarmed the street lamps the next year.

The next spring, we saw the swarm. I did my homework in my walk-in closet with a flashlight.

Bottom line: Find a cozy closet where you can do the same.

What in the Sam Hill?

Like I said, I’d lived in the suburbs north of Philadelphia prior to moving to the South. My travels to see my grandparents in Virginia were usually pretty brief, and did not involve much time exploring the wilderness. 

In New Orleans, even though we lived in the city limits, we still lived at or below sea level. It also rained a lot. Therefore, the earth was wet and often muddy. I was thankful for sidewalks in my quest to preserve my shoes.

The mud also meant we planned mowing for the cooler times of day that coincided with the driest two or three days of the week. I had to mow weekly or the swamp-forest might find us!

Fortunately, our house was on a small rise from the sidewalk, so we didn’t have a full-on swampy yard. However, everywhere else that wasn’t paved was swampy.

Other parts of the South have red clay dirt that gets on everything! I remember my boys playing in a red clay dirt pit near our home in Georgia. Their white shirts forever had a pink-ish-orange hue. Note to self – buy black shirts or learn to like pink. The same goes for white shoes. Might as well give up.

Bottom line: Plan for mud and dirt, and lots of it.

Hotter than Blue Blazes

I vividly remember the DJ on the radio station I listened to in middle school saying, “It’s not the heat, ya’ll.  It’s the stupidity!”

I didn’t get it. We moved to the South in January.

Then came July. It was STUPID HOT! It’s true. It’s not the heat. It’s the humidity and, in the hottest of months, it’s the stupidity.

My mom would wake me up at 7 a.m. in the summer to mow the lawn.

I would balk and say, “I’ll wake up the neighbors!”

“The neighbors are finished,” she always said.

The neighbors knew being out in the summer heat after 9 a.m. to mow was like visiting the seventh level of Dante’s Inferno, but much more humid.

Living in such a hot, humid place has forever changed my internal temperature. As an adult I love hot weather. I don’t love humidity, but do find it does wonders for my skin.

When I moved to Georgia as an adult, I really didn’t think it was too bad outside until August. Most people disagreed and said May through September was all too hot.  October might have even made their cut for “too hot”.  My husband agreed with this group of people.

Take Your Sweet Time

There is a reason that things happen more slowly in the South. The heat. If you move to fast you will overheat. Take a break and enjoy some iced tea or lemonade on the porch. Very Southern.

And that porch? That really means any shade. Enjoy the shade. All the time. Put everything in the shade: you, your family, your pets and your car.

Can’t find shade in the parking lot of the grocery store? Park a half mile away under the lone tree at the hardware store and walk. Your car will still be a million degrees, but your hands will thank you when you grab the steering wheel!

When does the store open or the doctor take his first patient? Go then! Be finished with errands early! Remember the mowing?

Also, are you headed to the Piggly Wiggly? If you plan on being longer than 20 minutes in the car with milk, ice cream and meat, take a cooler with you. Otherwise, you will end up with cottage cheese, soft serve and dog food by the time you get home.

A note about children and pets. They will not fare well in your car for most of the year. Please do not leave them in the car in the South.

Bottom line: Heat influences the culture of the South. You will enjoy it all a lot more if you learn to love the slow pace and early summer mornings.

Join us next Wednesday when Ande continues prepping you for all things Southern.