When I moved to the South, I was never quite sure if Southerners were gushing compliments or insults. Or both. Here's a typical overheard conversation at a ubiquitous backyard barbeque:
Southern lady #1: Well, I wasn't going to say anything, but, bless her heart, I just don't know what she's thinkin' wearin' that top with those britches. She must be blind in one eye and can't see out of the other. (Loudly, while waving) That shirt is so colorful, Eula May. Where in the world did ya buy it?
Southern lady #2 (shaking her head sympathetically): I know. That shirt fell out of the ugly tree and hit every branch on the way down. But her shoes are just darlin'.
Southern lady #1: Oh, my! Look at Sally Ann givin' corn bread to that squirrel. She's just precious, but doesn't have the sense God gave a billy goat. She'd do CPR on roadkill. (Loudly, while waving) Good to see you, Sally Ann! Aren't you just the sweetest thing feedin' that li'l ole squirrel?
Southern lady #2: Oh, sugar! I just spilled my sweet tea. This table is all cattywampus.
Southern lady #1: It's as tipsy as a rat swimmin' in moonshine. Just like Billy Bob over there. (Loudly) How ya doin', Billy Bob? I haven't seen you in a coon's age. Ya look gooder than grits!
Billy Bob: You ladies are fine as frog hair!
Southern lady #1: He's one sandwich short of a picnic, but he can roast a pork butt that'll make ya wanna slap your momma.
Southern lady #2: (Craning her neck) I can't see the band. Is that Zeke and Willa's son singin'? I haven't seen him since he was knee high to a bullfrog.
Southern lady #1: Ya call that singin'? You know I'm not one to criticize anybody, but he sounds like he's up there callin' hogs. But he's a nice boy. Even if he does have his daddy's ears.
Southern lady #2: At least he doesn't have his momma's nose, bless his little pea-pickin' heart. I still can't see the band.
Southern lady #1: I can't either. Lula Jean makes a better door than a window. (Loudly) Lula Jean, could ya move over a bit, darlin'? We can't see through you, sweetie pete.
Southern lady #2: Oh, good; she's gettin' up for more vittles. She's sure got a healthy appetite, bless her heart.
Southern lady #1: Not like Betty Lou. That girl'd blow over if someone sneezed. She's a dear, but she can't cook a lick. If a wolf came to her house, he'd have to pack a lunch.
Southern lady #2: Speakin' of food, did you taste this Shoofly Pie? Miss Mary Dean made it.
Southern lady #1: Well, how wonderful of her to pitch in. (Generously) And it's almost good! (Loudly, while waving her fork) Mary Dean, you just have to give me this recipe. I've never tasted a pie quite like this in all my born days!
Southern lady #2: You know I just love her to pieces, but her tryin' to bake is like a pig in a hen house tryin' to lay an egg.
Southern lady #1 and #2 (in unison): Bless her heart.
Verse of the day: (Colossians 4:6) "Let your speech always be with grace, seasoned with salt."
For more stories about my experiences in the Deep South, click on Preplanned Packing; Bald Peanuts; Ready Set... Ready Again, Set Again; The Mysterious 'Poke Lawn'; Going Postal (Southern Style); and Dastardly Directions (Southern Style).
