Carolina Talk

Sometimes I suffer from insomnia. So I came up with this list of words that I used while growing up in the foothills of North Carolina. My husband says we have a strange language there in Forest City. I began to wonder if this vocabulary was exclusive of “Far City” (as the locals call it) or if it was more of a regional dialect. I grew up using a vocabulary consisting of words I couldn't even spell. I’m not sure you could find some of these words in even the most diverse dictionary.

Take this quiz to see if you know the definitions. Be sure to scroll down after taking the quiz to see the answers and examples of the correct usage of each word. After you see your score, please leave a comment! I'd like to know how you did!

1. kwire (pronounced the same as choir)

a. an electrical item
b. a group of singers in the church
c. strange behavior

2. sup

a. an abbreviated form of “what’s up?”
b. to drink
c. short for “sippy cup”

3. swig

a. a small swag, used for decoration
b. a broken off piece of a twig
c. to drink

4. kyarn

a. untidy or filthy
b. a brand of yarn
c. an unofficial yard sport

5. poke

a. what you do to your sister when she starts talking in church
b. a paper sack
c. what you put a pig in

6. Lawdy Pete

a. your uncle’s first and middle name
b. a phrase similar to “my goodness!”
c. hot sauce

7. Hope My Die

a. the name of a soap opera
b. your last will and testament
c. a saying that means “Honest and true. I swear to it!”




The Answers:

1. C Sally shore is kwire. She won’t stand near the window while it’s stormin outside!
2. B Hey, you thirsty? You can have a sup of my Pepsi.
3. C Don’t worry about getting a teaspoon for this cough medicine. I’ll just swig it.
4. A Just look at your bedroom! It's all kyarned up!
5. B Here, put your lunch in this poke.
6. B Lawdy Pete! It shore is hot today!
7. C Honest Ma. I didn’t touch your piggy bank. Hope my die!!

How did you score???

7 Correct: Bona fide Carolinian

5-6 Correct: Hillbilly at heart

3-4 Correct: You've seen a few episodes of Beverly Hillbillies, and that's about it!

1-2 Correct: Have you ever been out of the suburbs, city slicker??

Returning to My Roots

I have found my way back.
It's been a long journey, but like a beaten, prodigal daughter, I have returned to what I know is right. It has taken the "recession", but I have come back to my penny pinching, coupon clipping ways.

Actually, I'm not sure I believe we are in a nation-wide recession. As long as the X Box 360 is being manufactured, I feel sure that we aren't. After all, if countless numbers of Playstation 3's and X Box's are being shoved under Christmas trees this holiday season, I feel confident that our economy will survive.

What? You don't believe me? Last time I drove past the factory outlets near my house, the parking lot was swelling with cars. Honey, they don't sell groceries at those places! The last time I tried to eat out at Cracker Barrell, the parking lot was so full, my family and I went elsewhere. Unless C.B. takes food stamps, all those cars represented paying customers. So, no. I don't think we are in a "Nation-wide" recession. But no doubt, we are all feeling the pinch.

When Kevin and I first got married, every month his precious Grandmother would send me an envelope full of coupons (and a little bit of money). Talk about spoiled!! I didn't even have to clip those things! Sweet Grandma Olivia did it for me. She did this on her own volition out of sheer desire to help me. So I took full advantage of her tedious labor. She always sent the best coupons. There was nothing like looking at the bottom of my receipt and seeing how much was decucted in coupon savings.

I was full blown. I had a pendaflex coupon holder with dividers and subcatergories. I was eager to use my money saving prowess, and I L-O-V-E-D stores that doubled their coupons.

Some of my greatest savings were from the coupons the hospital gives you after you give birth. You know, Enfamil, Baby wipes, diapers. Manufacturers are good to new mommies. Those were the best deals, and many times, they gave Buy One Get One Free Coupons.

But once my children were out of diapers and old enough to eat table food, my need for coupons seemed to shrink. And I guess that's when I sort of lost my way. Grandma Olivia still sent them, but I didn't use them. I put the pendaflex coupon organizer in storage, never to be found. I eventually told Olivia, "Don't bother with the coupons."

Now, 10 years later, I find myself wondering how I could have ever walked away from the "bargaining table", so to speak. Gas and groceries are huge expenses, and they have to be purchased at least weekly, sometimes more frequently than that. Don't get me wrong. I've always used coupons to Pizza Hut and Arby's. I never became a coupon reprobate! But I have forgotten the joy of saving money each trip to the grocery store.

I do have to add, I have a friend who is an avid couponista, Amber. I have a link to her blog. Well, after seeing all the stuff she had on her blog, I was inspired to go back to what I had done so long ago. Thank you, Amber, for being a beacon of light on this subject!

I started out by going to free online printable coupons. Not for me. Too much involved. And you can forget the freebies. Time is money for me, and I can't sit around all afternoon entering my personal information just so I can get a trial size product in the mail, which usually takes about 6-8 weeks.

No...I'm a coupon purist. Some merchants frown on downloaded coupons, although I have saved alot on my perscriptions by going to the manufacturer's site and printing the available coupons. (I received a $126 medication FREE because of a manufacturer's coupon! SCORE!) But by and large, I like the old fashion coupons. That's right, the one's you have to clip. I even started a newspaper subscription so I could get my hands on the coupon inserts. The sound of scissors clipping have been filling my home. And when I get back on my feet, I plan to use these babies!

I'm back to what I once knew, except now, I'm not so spoiled. I have to clip my own. Even though gas is going down (hopefully, it will stay down) I want to save that hard earned money Kevin brings home. Hey, I've gotta make my $11 per month savings quota...that will pay for the newspaper subsrciption.

I guess I will be shopping for another coupon pendaflex folder. It makes me feel a little old. I always envision granny's with coupon holders holding up the line at Walmart while they shuffle through their coupons. If coupons are a sign of aging, I've been maturing for a long, long time.

Agony of de Feet!

I hate to be a whiney baby...but this whole recovery thing stinks. I mean, people keep bringing me food every day. I haven't been able to do the housework that I so love to do. Someone else is carting my kids all over creation. People are calling me every single day to say, "How are you? I've been praying for you. Feel better soon!" My husband has to help me up, down, and into bed. I have to have my foot propped on three thick pillows. I have been robbed of the privilege of doing laundry.(Please stand by while I regain my composure.) I have been stripped of my God given right to go to the bank, to dash in and out of Wal-Mart, to stroll to the library and return books that are 6 weeks overdue, to make a last minute run to the grocery store right before it closes. Is anyone shedding a tear for me yet??? It's rough, I know, but some how, some way, I will survive.

A little tongue in cheek humor there. Actually, all of the above represent the beautiful side of recovering from a major surgery. Of course, if you don't have a strong network of family, church or otherwise, you might not have the wonderful help I do.

I can't thank the Jefferson Lighthouse Baptist Church enough for all their sacrifice and help during this time. The family of God has stood by my bedside many times, whether it be hospital bed or my bed at home. It's been a thick and thin relationship that has never given way under the pressures. I can only hope to return the blessing to each of the ladies. God knows my heart. I want to, more than anything I want to.

However, there are some agonies of de feet that I have to come to terms with on my own. With all the positives, there are some negatives I have to deal with, and to be honest, I don't have an easy time dealing with them. For instance, I am immobilized to the point that I can't even do a simple task. That greatly aggrevates me. I was sitting here last night with our dinner guests, (they had brought us all the yummy fixins for tacos and stayed to dine and clean up) and I noticed this enormous cobweb. Under normal circumstances, I would have done all I could to detract any attention from what seemed to be obvious. But instead, I just sat there in my wheelchair helplessly awaiting the cobweb's debut. I don't know if my dinner guest noticed it, but all I could think was, "Some creature sure was busy during this past 2 weeks!" Doesn't make a homemaker feel too good.

Although I don't miss grocery shopping, I miss being able to drive. I won't be able to drive for another 4-6 weeks. That's a real bummer because I really dislike asking people to run errands for me. And with Kevin's busy schedule, it makes it double hard on him.

It sounds fun to ask someone to hand you something that is 6 feet away from you, but after a while, you just want to be able to do it yourself. However, getting it yourself is not that easy. My foot is supposed to be elevated above my heart. So in order to get something even six feet away, I have to remove the leaning tower of pillows, de-recline the recliner, pull myself up on my crutches, and hobble the few steps away to get whatever it was I wanted, find a way to carry it back to the recliner (hopefully in my mouth or under my arm squeezed beside my crutch). And then if I drop it! AACCCCKKK!!!!!! To sum it up: I have to really want it bad to get it myself. It's just so much easier to ask someone else to get it. But asking someone else comes with a twinge of guilt. ;> Vicious circle, I know.

It's not only the guilt of always having to ask someone else to do a simple task for you, it's also the fact that you like the way you do it better. Oh boy, this is a real issue for me. As I wheel through the kitchen in my wheelchair, I am at eye level with my countertops. When I see crumbs, microscopic though they may be, I ask, "Dear Lord, where have I gone wrong? I have shown these kids time and time again how to clean this counter. Where's a dishcloth...." Now this is where I get in real trouble with my husband. As he wheels me out of the kitchen, I am wiping the counter as I go, just a'pitchin' a hissy fit. Then I start in about the microwave, and the refrigerator, and the sweeping, and the mopping. Oh, wait...that's how I am even without surgery! Seriously, I want to reclean what my husband and children are trying to clean, and it wouldn't be so bad if my hands, or in this case, my feet, weren't tied.

Another form of agony I feel is my restriction from the piano. My surgery was on my pedal foot, so I can't play the piano for at least 6 weeks. Now that makes me sad. I have tried crossing my legs and using my left foot on the pedal, but it is too awkward. I will enjoy hearing the choir from the pew for a change, but I will greatly miss my place on the piano bench.

Yes. The agony of defeat, or de feet. Either way, I'm experiencing it. I know I'll come out on top, but arising as the Victor takes alot out of a person. It most definitely takes a lot out of their family. I'm thankful for their help, and I'm thankful to God. Without them, I could never be victorious at all.

Above all, I want to be thankful that my condition is very temporary. I'm not permanently confined to a wheelchair, and my prognosis is great, of course. Lest I should be seen as unaware of how great I've got it, I want to say I see sunny days ahead!

I Once Had Beautiful Feet

My Nemeses....my arch rivals...these beauties I
must trade for beasts! Is this worth foot surgery?
No. A thousand times No!




It is with sadness and heaviness that I write today. A dark reality has blanketed my day, and I must share it with my readership. I just returned from a follow up appointment with my Orthopaedic Surgeon, and I may have to have yet another foot surgery.

I wince.

You see, I have just now recovered from my first foot surgery. The surgery I had 7 months ago-a "simple" bunionectomy and cystectomy on my left foot. HA! The surgery that very nearly made me question whether I had a purposeful existence. Ladies and gentlemen, I wanted to die. (And I am not using hyperbole) That surgery was the most painful experience of my life, and of all the surgeries I've had, my foot surgery was the most unbearable.

Now, I won't go into all the medical jargon, but I will say this...the foot is nerve rich. Let me put it this way: I would rather relive my hysterectomy than have another foot surgery. But here I sit today, facing a possible and very likely surgery on my right ankle.

I was lucky enough to sustain a severe grade 3 sprain on my first day of our family vacation. Let's hear it for Rita the clutz! It changed the family vacation, to say the very least. I was equipped with an arsenal of Percocets and Lortabs, along with crutches and a very stylish splint. Not. The hiking plans were nixed, along with the tour of the Biltmore House. Instead, we played Scategories and Uno in Marathon-ish proportions.

But being the forever optimist, I simple thought 2-3 weeks in advance. You know, I visualized myself back at Curves with sweat glistening on my brow. I envisioned shedding my tacky splint and tossing those crutches aside. In the midst of my racking pain, I assured myself, "This will be over in a couple of weeks. Sprains aren't as bad as surgery...you'll be over this in no time."

Long story short; ten weeks post injury, my ankle is extremely loose. The swelling is still plaguing me, and there is an ever-present discoloration that resembles a bubonic blue. I would be lying if I said this ankle were pain free. And now the feet that were once dainty and pretty, (even my critical sisters would have to confirm this as fact) look like a crime scene. Or at least the left one does. And the right foot may be soon to follow!

We have a name for the way my feet look....FrankenFoot. A left foot defined by hideous keloid scars; a right foot defined by an eerie discoloration and swelling. Keloids of all things! I've got at least a half dozen surgery scars on my body, but none of them can be seen. None except the lovely keloids sitting atop my foot. My cute summer sandals can't mask the ugly feet that have taken on a life of their own. I would post photos, but it would be too graphic.

Alas! Am I, at 38, doomed to a life of orthopaedic Dr. Scholls footwear and knee high socks? I love my Clarks, but come on! They don't go with everything! I once had beautiful feet, but those feet will never return. It's just the plain hideous truth.

Before I appear overly vain and narcissistic, let me say that a potential ankle surgery holds more than just ugly scars. It also holds a great deal of pain and a long road of recovery. And that gives me the greatest sense of dread.

Let's face it: I have to laugh to keep from crying. My MRI next week will tell the tale. Hopefully, I will escape the pending doom of surgery. But if not, recuperation time means more time to write. Plus, I will readily admit, the Royal Treatment of a woman off her feet for 6-8 weeks is a nice way to recover!

The Secrets of Sisterhood

My "Sisterhood"- Sandy, Melissa, Mom, Roni, Rita



Blood is thicker than water, but blessed be the ties that bind female friends! Much like a mother's instinctive love and care, lady friends will lock arms to defeat any foe that barges against the "sisterhood." And you know what? That sisterhood doesn't even have to be biological.

God designed women with such an intense loyalty to those they love. Take for instance a woman's automatic defense mechanism over her husband. Just let a person cross a loyal wife's husband, and that person won't live to regret it! A loyal wife can calmly lace the coffee with arsenic, serve it to the offender with a smile, and hum a little tune while she waits for him to croak. Do I even need to deal with a Mother's fierce love? It's a love that will stop at nothing to protect. And until a woman is a Mother, she can't even begin to comprehend what I'm saying.

But everyone of us knows about our deep devotion to our "sisters". Whether they be sisters in Christ, sisters by blood, or sisters by association, once there is an established bond, all the dynamite in the Kentucky coal mines can't break it. It's part of our nature.

But there may be a few other reasons why women bond so intimately. A connection that is exclusively "female." Science can't explain it, and men can't fathom it. However, women know these reasons as fact. Although the following is borrowed, it expresses my sentiments exactly!

Top 10 Things Only Women Understand

10. Why it’s good to have five pairs of black shoes.
9. The difference between cream, ivory, and off-white.
8. Crying can be fun.
7. FAT CLOTHES.
6. A salad, diet drink, and a hot fudge sundae make a balanced lunch.
5. Discovering a designer dress on the clearance rack can be considered a peak life experience.
4. The inaccuracy of every bathroom scale ever made.
3. A good man might be hard to find, but a good hairdresser is next to impossible.
2. Why a phone call between two women never lasts under ten minutes.
AND THE NUMBER ONE THING ONLY WOMEN UNDERSTAND:
1. OTHER WOMEN!