Summertime in the South

Molasses. Slow. as. Molasses.

The thick summer days drag on, rolling from day to day as through you never really slept. You don't know what day it is because the sun has cooked your brain. You're floating by, by, bye.

My, my, my how time flies.
You can take it all in if you open your eyes.

I love the country. I really do. Quaint little houses with white picket fences litter every green pasture. Down the road it gets a little sparse where the homes are enveloped in thick, unruly vines and weeds. See that house there? Knew that family well. Real nice folks, wouldn't hurt no one. Just went broke.

Mosey down the dirt road to a tiny little shack with a Welcome mat out front. Smells like dinnertime, sweet cherry wine. Enter quiet as a churchmouse. Simple little house. Don't need air conditionin' when you've got a gentle breeze, it don't get too hot with the shade from the trees. Dirt and grass beneath your feet, come on in and take a seat.

Fried chicken for dinner with cornbread and beans, sweet tea if you're thirsty and apple pie for dessert. Tomorrow we'll fire up the barbeque and have ourselves some country cookin', if you're lookin' for some wholesome food, then you're in the right place. Grew the apples ourselves on the trees outback, and the corn and beans too. We'll give you some to take home with you. Nothin' fancy here, just take off your shoes and make yourself at home, dear.

You eat and laugh till you can't no more. They sure ain't rich, but they ain't poor. You're pretty full of good food and Southern Hospitality, a bag full of vegetables and talk of morality. Tip your hat, say "Thank you ma'am", words whose aftertaste is as sweet as strawberry jam.

Summertime, sweet summertime, homemade ice cream and tart lemonade. Ain't too bad in the shade. Baseball games in the hot summer sun, "Hot dogs, burgers? Anyone?" Life's easy and simple and natural, from homeruns to Kenny Chesney to dirty blue overalls.

xoxo e