Barefoot Little Country Brat

You don't ever grow out of who you are as a child. As a child, I was a little barefoot farm girl. I was outside almost all day, every day. I did indeed have a red neck, and I'm proud of it. I worked my little butt off. I could sling hay bales, carry feed, haul buckets, and damn near anything else that had to be done just as fast as anyone else could and I was a just a little skinny obnoxious runt. And we did that rain or shine, hot or cold, snow, ice, and if there was snow and ice, we fed and watered the animals in the morning and evening because their water would freeze, so did the hose, so I carried it down in 5 gallon buckets that sploshed on my legs, and then froze on me. That makes you tough though. 

My parents listened to Bluegrass and John Denver, and today the 'Orange Blossom Special' takes me back and makes me feel like that little kid again. You have to be Country (yep, capital C) to even know what that song even is, or to remember Roy Clark doing his version of it, and rolling his eyes around while he played that fiddle.

Country people are completely different than anyone else. We are just a different breed. Common sense was taught to us strenuously, because in the country you have to have it. You need to be careful, and to be prepared. My sister and her husband are perfect examples of the differences between 'Country folk' and 'City folk'. When Country folk walk, we predominantly watch the ground before us, in the country you have to. There could be snakes, wild animals, boards with nails sticking up (ever stepped on a nail barefoot? it hurts like a MamaFoxtrot) broken glass at the river from some *Foxtroting DeltaHotel* partying, bees, etc. City Folk walk with their heads up, watching the people around them so they don't get mugged, and they look in store windows, they have to watch for traffic lights, read signs, etc. It's entirely different. So when they walk together, they haven't quite blended yet and found a way to harmonize the two so that they are watching out for everything together.

We ate differently and had Sunday dinner every single Sunday no fail, talked differently, (f%$k yall), dressed differently, I wore Biballs, that's right, I betcha don't even know what those are! I will never forget the time we served my Aunt Cathy rabbit, and told her it was chicken, and she raved about how it was the best chicken she had ever had... then she puked for an hour when we told her it was Bunny FooFoo. Poor thing.  Rabbit is delicious... Of course that made me the weird kid at school. Shocking, I know. 

So, what happens when you were also raised at another household in town? You get me. See, my sweet, adorable 4'10" little grandma, (I miss her so!) lived in town, and that was the polar opposite, of my life at home. I spent most of my weekends there, summers, holidays, etc. So, yep.. I'm doubly weird, because I was raised two different ways. City and Country. I watch everything when I walk Bitches! And now that I'm an adult, and not that gangly awkward little kid (God, that poor kid, I still feel sorry for her) I'm proud to be me. I'm still awkward as all get out. But, that's what makes me who I am. Weird, yes. Different, hell yes!  

And now.... Ganstagrass!!! City and County!! What?!! Yeeauuh!