I took an excerpt from the Chapter - which up to this point is one of my favorites. It talks about my trips to the south and my unique look into Southern culture and being alone with my Mother at the beach.
It also recants a time when I asked "Is there a God" when I was 10 and God showed me a sign... literally.
"The smell of the south is the smell of God's laundry." I didn't read that anywhere - but I would like to quote myself on it. North Carolina is my favorite of the southern states. It's just industrial enough to be small town and just small town enough to have an ocean view.
"What are those?"
"Those are pecans."
"I want some."
"They aren't ready to eat yet you little toe head."
"Well, I WANT SOME."
"Be our guest you little brat."
This was my first taste and memory of my Aunt's old plantation home in North Carolina. To me it was like something out of Gone With the Wind. Wrapping stair cases and 3 living rooms. Bedrooms were on the first floor because it's just too hot to have them upstairs. The lawn wasn't manicured but it was soft and ongoing for what seemed like an eternal nap of green.
The backyard was "infested" with farm cats. My Great Aunt Agnus would always "shoo" them and never feed them. "They have jobs. If they want to eat then they'll do a good job." She would always say... "Their job is to keep the mice out of our peanuts."
A peanut farmed landscape extended until the horizon from their back porch. It seemed too big for one man - My Uncle Whit - to farm and tend to.
Uncle Whit wore civil servant green shirts and plain type poly blend pants. He looked like a communist postman. He chewed tobacco and spit into a spittoon. Their daughter Nancy played guitar and made sweet tea for us. Every night we had home made biscuits from their giant southern kitchen.
At night - there was no television or debate. There was only talk of the weather and whatever my Father decided to get really excited about.
......---skip about 4 pages---.......
Needless to say Pecans are one of my favorite things to eat.