This past Tuesday night, I was driving home from a fellow author’s book release party. The sky was filled with an absolutely beautiful, flamingo pink hue which can make my five- year- old daughter gasp in the most innocent and joyful way. The streets were still steamy from the aftereffects of a strong, southern, summer-shower. And the fireflies of these longer days were finally making their debut.

A few years ago, my husband and I were in the throes of working long days while juggling our first child. To be honest, not much has changed except vocations and another child full of energy added to the mix. Regardless, when I look back on those first few years of parenthood and the all-consuming juggle act, I think of stories like the one I’m about to tell and just hope that sleep deprivation was to blame on this one.  

I have been in my beloved college town of Oxford, Mississippi for the past few days. The sleepy small southern town is filled with memories at each corner I turn- many that make me laugh out loud as I remember them. Some of the funniest ones I have are from the ways we had to start “figuring it out” when we ran out of money as broke college students who should have prioritized food over a big night out at the bar...a lesson usually learned after the fact.

If you spend enough time in the South, you are bound to hear the phrase, “that’s just plain tacky.” The statement is a staple around here. It can be used as a quick dismissal of something, to describe a type of behavior one doesn’t agree with, or can describe something that could be seen as gaudy. And, it can also be the ultimate insult. Interestingly enough, after researching, I found that the term being used to describe something that lacks taste in the South may have originated with a breed of horses called the wild Carolina Marsh Tacky horses. These animals were not considered to be of high quality and viewed to be lacking in breeding. If you aren’t familiar with the common usage of the phrase, let me give you some examples of things that can be seen as just downright tacky.

“I want to be an artist!” I proudly exclaimed to my parents one night. It was the end of my eleventh grade year of high school. My art teacher had just pulled me aside to let me know he believed I should go to college for art and that I needed to think about my senior art thesis. I had always loved art and being surrounded by creative souls. I loved listening to how their brains worked. While some may have perceived them strange or weird, I saw these artistic humans as magical. I was thrilled because I dreamt of going to art school and remain surrounded by these magical thinkers during college, but I could see the look of concern from my parent’s face. To their defense, I naively did not understand the ends and outs of college tuition and preparing an almost adult for the real world.

Warning: amazing recipes ahead. With the warmer weather’s arrival comes the flavorful fruit, vegetable, and flower stand on the corner right outside my neighborhood. It’s actually right across the street from where I found the yard sale furs if you read last week’s story. As the multiple folding tables and large tent make an appearance at Easter’s end, I get as excited about what’s in store as a kid on Christmas. For me personally, it means I can start buying fresh watermelon, peaches, and tomatoes from local farmers. What a delicious gift!

Fair warning to anyone reading this Sunday short story: If you are completely against fur or are an avid PETA supporter, this may not be the read for you. I fully support other people’s beliefs, and I think everyone has a right to their opinion, but you just may want to skip ahead to next week’s tale if faux fur is more up your alley. To each his own!

We all have those funny stories we replay from our younger years that make us laugh each time, no matter how long ago it may have occurred. One of my absolute favorite stories that still gets me tickled after all these years has to do with my dear friend, Cindy. Obviously, her name has been changed to save any embarrassment, but rest assured this story was approved by the main players.