But surely worst of all it the fact that my knowledge of the civil war is sorely lacking. In fact, I only know essentially three things about the civil war. First, that there was a civil war. Second, that the war was about states' rights. And third, that the north, aka the union, won the war (maybe I should consider leaving the last bit off from now on.) It just occurred to me that I may do well familiarizing my kids with the merits of General Robert E Lee.
And then there's the whole entertaining thing I have to worry about. Having any southern belle over for dinner is tantamount to having Martha Stewart over. When I go to her house, I am going to be greeted by mounds of roasted pork, piles of mashed potates swimming in gravy, homemade buttermilk biscuits, two kinds of garden vegetables, and a large selection of those amazing pies made from scratch. Dinner at my house is usually a dish where the starch, meat and vegetables are all served together so I only have to dirty one pan. I may pick up some store-bought ice cream if you're lucky.
And there's the little things I have to worry about, like remembering to wave every time I drive past a neighbor. Most likely I'm going to imagine that I'm going out of my way to be polite and friendly, and all the while my manner will seem to them those of a hard-hearted yankee.
But there's one thing I can be sure of: whatever they think of my store-bought pastries, my one-pot-meals, my civil-war ignorance, my restrained neighborly affection, my disdain for Gone with the Wind, and any of my other odd Yankee ways that I'm not even aware of--at least I know that they will be far too polite to say anything.
Southern hospitality covers a multitude of northern ways...
Y'all come and visit me some time. (How did that sound?)