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| When your eggs speak Truth! Amen. |
I’ve previously mentioned the whole “wearing shoes in the house” issue. While not included as a commandment in the Bible, I’m pretty sure He left it out because He figured it was a no brainer for most of us. Unfortunately, that is not that case and there is no 11th commandment that reads, “thou shalt not wear outdoor shoes inside”. And while most of my life I was ignorant to such atrocities, it’s only been in my adulthood lived in Canada that I had come to see the light. Now I must bloom where I am planted and I happen to be planted in a country that considers it appropriate to wear the same shoes you’ve just trampled around in God only knows what and then bring it indoors. I am the one that must change. I’m happy to report that after throwing a New Year’s party with everyone wearing their shoes all over my house, I did not have a meltdown and actually managed to enjoy myself. I wore slippers.
Thankfully, I’ve had some American experience prior to the last 16 years and could teach my family that if you have items to be mailed out, put UP the flag. In Canada, average citizens are not trusted with the flag and it is only for the mail carrier to put up if they have mail for us. Also, because we live out in the country we get rural delivery. Our mail lady is a hoot! She drives like a bat out of hell in a truck we can hear a mile away. (It’s between her or the sound of Wayne’s car and Zanna and I can usually tell which one) If she has a package for us, she lays on her horn and I scramble to the front door from wherever I am in the house to kick off my indoor shoes, find the nearest pair of outdoor shoes, and run out to meet her and retrieve my package. Nice gal, she wears makeup that rivals Tammy Faye Baker and the nicest drawl to greet me! She also has very moisturized hands according to the row of Gold Bond creams she has lined up on her dashboard. And … the cherry on top … Saturday delivery!!!!!Yep, gotta love the U.S. Mail!
Over dinner one evening during Christmas break, I gently brought up with the children that although their overall level of politeness met (if not exceeded) that of your average kid in Canada, it was NOT going to cut it for Southern charm. I suggested that they might want to up their game. Perhaps they might want to throw into their vocabulary some “yes, ma’ams” and “yes, sirs” - even when it seems excessive. I get called “yes, ma’am” everywhere I go from the grocery store to the local homeschool basketball games. If I say to my check out gal at Walmart, “have a nice day!” - she’ll respond with, “yes, ma’am!” as if I had just given her an order. Pretty impressive, I must say. And while it’s certainly possible to be this outwardly polite all the while silently cursing the person you are “yes, ma’aming”, true southerners never come across this way. I really think they’re just honestly polite and their Mamaw taught them well.
Finding a new doctor is definitely a stressful thing when moving to a new area. It’s right up there with finding a new hairdresser. After several referrals, I finally picked a family doctor for our crew. Armed with my trusty insurance card, I went to meet him to get an overall feel for how he could meet my families needs. Over the normal introductions and questions, I shared that we hailed from Canada and he shared that he’s not just a doctor but a pastor, father of 7(?) and a homeschooler. Of course he is! This is the south.
Our next meeting came about because Will needed to see him while he was home over Christmas. The doctor enjoyed talking pre-seminary college with Will and encouraged him in his Greek study. We also met with a doctor doing his residency there. Nice guy - getting ready to move on with a practice in Minnesota. What are the chances? I suggested he might want to trade in his cowboy boots for some nice, warm snow boots. You know the kind - with fur. Anyway … he was very helpful in his explanation of how the human body works and how it’s “created to fit like this” as he showed us what that meant. My eyes met Will’s in response to the acknowledging of a Creator and afterwards we both said, “Never in Canada!”.
My last meeting with our new doctor was for just some new patient blood work, etc. Keeping in mind this was the third time in his office, I was pretty surprised when he went in to hug me!! Now the old, Canadian Rachel would have been FREAKED OUT and contemplating turning him in to authorities… except the current Rachel has been hugged so many times in the 6 months we’ve lived here that although it surprised me, it really didn’t phase me. Which brings me to ….
Huggers. Yep. I’m surrounded by them. I’m pretty sure in my previous life (the one before Canada) I was more prone to hugging but Ottawa beat that out of me. Shoot, we could barely look one another in the eye. Down here it’s personal space be darned. Bring it in and let’s hug it out. Happy to see you! Let’s hug. You’re going? Time to hug. How was your day? I think you need a hug. I have to say it’s nice. No … it’s more than nice. It’s warm and caring and more than acknowledges that we are fellow human beings walking this life together. So go hug someone. Maybe the Walmart check out lady. Yes, ma’am!
We live in a “moist” county. That’s another thing - we have counties. I’m pretty sure that’s new. Anyway …. moist county. That means that you can buy beer and wine but not booze. I’m guessing this is due to the influence of the Baptists although I’m not sure if they know you can still get really drunk on beer and wine? Maybe not as fast? The prices for alcohol in general is crazy cheep compared with the LCBO, government run monopoly. It’s also not as convenient to get the rum needed for my Eggnog Rum Loaf that I never made over Christmas because I really didn’t want to set foot into Cooter Brown’s Liquor (Seriously. You can’t make this up, folks!) off the interstate on the county line.
Telemarketers. Sheesh, it’s crazy down here. I have some lady named Wendy’s old phone number and I get calls and texts for her all the time. She apparently had some financial issues as that seems to be the theme of most of them. And apparently she could use a job. It’s driving me nuts!! I block the caller/texter after each one and it helps for a little while until they find me again.
I get to wear shoes again other than flip flops/Birks in the summer and thermal lined snow boots in the winter. It’s pretty exciting because I get to wear shoes now that before I had only a small window of time to wear - pretty much when it got too cold for open toed shoes but the snow hadn’t started flying yet. In other words …. a month. Bring on the fashion boots with a heel, my cowboy boots, ankle boots, and loafers. Flats, wedges, canvas, and runners - a whole new shoe world is open to me. Actually, anyone who really knows me would know that I love the idea of shoes and looking at shoes but am terrified of buying shoes for fear that they will be uncomfortable and I won’t discover it until too late. But that’s not the point. The point is … I can wear shoes again. (Outdoor shoes, as opposed to my indoor shoes)
If someone had told me a year ago that last night I would be sitting in on a Master Gardener class to listen to a presentation on blueberry and blackberry plants, I would have been very puzzled and probably thought you were off your rocker. Alas, there I was at such a class to learn how to keep my berry patch garden going! But my Master Gardener girl friend (the Lord provides!!) assures me I can do this!
A lot can happen in six months! I’d say we’re settled but there’s still transition. We’re still waiting on immigration for Wayne, still filling out change of address forms, still learning about our surroundings. But we also still have hankerings for Ottawa and sometimes what I’d really like is a nice, hot blueberry tea. I’ve got the Red Rose in my pantry, bought in bulk before we left Canada. But I still need Amaretto and Grand Marnier and there’s no way I’m going into Cooter’s.
