Being a Southern woman, making food is a part of your soul. It’s in our blood, it’s part of our spirit. It’s just what we do – we cook when we’re happy, when we’re expecting guests, when we’re down, or during a pandemic.
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Southern Backroads (a poem)
Sometimes I think of our love
as though it’s an old Southern backroad
You’re in the driver’s seat
my feet are on the dash
The roads are curvy and dictate our speed
sometimes we take them slow, sometimes fast
At times they’re the straightest path
with fields of corn on either side
There are moments of fear
but also moments of pure joy
Those old Southern backroads
can go on forever, with no end in sight
Many times you ride those roads
with your most trusted companion
Those Southern backroads are an adventure like none other
and it’s only you I want by my side.
(Photo by Studio Dekorasyon on Unsplash)
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To my Southern Belle
Dear Rachel,
I met you during a troubled time in my life. Most of the times of my life (thus far) have been troubled, though I always keep pushing forward.
Relationships scare me – you know that. I’m afraid I’ll hurt you, like I’m holding your heart in my hands each day. It’s been less than a year, and I have hurt you already, and you helped me to see that maybe that’s just a part of this thing called love: the knowing that it will hurt sometimes, but we can forgive each other and keep moving forward, living in the present moment, and building a life together.
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