Country kids could worry the dead.

I probably need to start out leading you through one of my last days of my senior year in high school, just to give you a true glimpse of of the culture shock that I experienced when I left the country. However, my writing experience and education did not equip me to best portray the elements, sounds and explanations that go along with watching a cock fight.  I can easily explain the dress code of jeans and flannel and allude to the “spirits” in each of the mason jars in our hands….but I could never find the right words to explain why a person would need to blow air up a rooster’s butt to gain a few more precious seconds in a highly betted fight amongst country boys. I’m hoping that the visual you just conjured in your mind will suffice.

Yes, I know what cow-tipping, frog-gigging and snipe hunting is. Yes, I come from a place where if its alive, you can skin it and cook it. So the thought of moving to a big city and attending one of the largest universities in the South, came with both excitement and anxiety. However, let me be the first to say, as you will hear time and time again that

A Country Girl Can Survive.

Now I am no expert on anything, but I have learned a thing or two in my nearly four decades and I just want to put these lessons out there for any of you that may be thinking of migrating from the country to the city and invite you to share your own lessons! I will be using some of my maw’s favorite sayings to introduce these lessons, as she has more smarts than me!

Stay tuned for the first lesson: Cut a Fast Walking Stick….

Introduction

I would like to start this blog off by providing some disclaimers! I am a country girl…one that survived the city, college, living abroad, marriage, pregnancy, moving back to the country and more! I don’t mean to stereotype, belittle or whatever…I just want those of us that survived this transition to laugh about it and spread the lessons! So if you have thin skin, find another blog!

So many of you found yourselves in the same boat…uprooting from small town America to the bigger city, more sophistication, faster pace, “living above your raising” and outgrowing your britches. What is your number one memory from podunk America? One that the city folk may believe is myth? Or maybe one that you still can’t believe happens? Was it the cock fights? cow tipping? frog gigging? snipe hunting? tractors in the homecoming parade?

Don’t hold back. Let’s start out with where we are from! I want to see what kind of support I have before I jump all in! Plus, I want to see how this whole thing works!