Life as I know it.

Bare with me, I'm feeling froggy today.............

Ah, North Carolina. It's beauty, it's charm, it's romantic mystery, and it's unique brand of redneck. Yup this place grew me up and is part of what makes me the wonder I am today.

I'm an Oklahoma transplant and I noticed that gave me a little bit of a one up around here. My parents moved us to Brunswick county when I was five. A Kiowa Indian with his Okie wife gathered up their wild youngins and dropped them into the deep South. Sometimes I feel sorry for dad but I know that man had to have more laughs at the crazy locals than he had frustrations. Don't get me wrong. He had plenty of frustration but Southern redneck antics kept him entertained.

Of course if you grew up here the odds of you marrying a redneck can be pretty high. (unless you are my sister and prefer the exotic males from out west and get one specially ordered for you; she has always been a go getter). I did land me one and I marked him good. It also didn't hurt that I could lay out charm better than any born and bred Southern belle one minute and tromp through the swamp and talk to the animals like family the next. That is the kind of stuff that reaches into the hot blooded redneck male, grabs him by the nay-nays and makes his heart go pitter patter. Poor guy. He may have tried to shake me but I had a thing for tight jeans and he was scared of my dad.

Dad. My dad has a very slender build and is freakishly laid back. He had one thing going for him, he didn't look like he came from around them parts. His dark skin, black thick hair, quiet ways, eyes that could cut you to the quick and his heavy stache gave Chris some worry. So much worry that when I came up pregnant while still in high school Chris just knew Dad was going to seek retribution or jail time. He didn't know who's jail time it would be, but he just knew down to his toes there would be some. To this day Chris still treads lightly around Dad.

Now Chris isn't a down and dirty redneck; for lack of a better word he is an uppity redneck. He lives in polo shirts and slacks and constantly yearns for the next day to be spent at golf. He also made an interesting choice as his life work for a redneck. He is a photographer, and a very good one. When I met him he worked in the family business. A mom and pop hardware store with a pipe yard on the side. I will never forget riding up to the store with dad and seeing Chris lugging a large length of pipe on his shoulder because the fork lift was broken. I about swooned right there until Dad saw my reaction and hustled me right back into the car. That was my first and only ride to that store with Dad.

Chris also has an ear and heart for music. He can play a beautiful sax and a little piano along with several other instruments. Yup, a real renaissance redneck. His family is very Southern and even though I spent the past 11 years living among them like one of their own; I was in for some serious culture shock. I learned things that would forever be seared onto my brain and no amount of extensive therapy could ever make it go away. I was forced to make hog's head cheese by his very powerful grandmother. Mrs. Jimmy could take on any man any day of the week and you did not tell her no. I learned how to clean a deer and watch his dad use the empty skull as a puppet. His sister Shannon took me out spot lighting for deer on the back of a four wheeler while drunk out of our minds. I have also been made to help pick up road kill for dinner. I had nightmares after that, crazy upon crazy nightmares.

Just a taste of my childhood and teenage years. Someday when the urge hits me I will build on this, but for now I feel like I have slightly lifted the veil and found a small black mutt of a yard dog with a strange love for the neighbor's chickens. Dang! I miss that dog.