Lost in translation, y'all.

besides the sunshine, one of my favorite things about living in Tennessee are the people.

Never have I met a warmer, friendlier group of folks.


Not a day goes by if you are in public that people walking by will greet you, and ask how you are doing, or if you get far enough into the conversation that you are from out of state, "Have you found a church yet?"

I am a very outgoing, social person, and I love this. However, it did take me a bit to get used to. Someone asks you how you are doing-- are you supposed to answer? Smile and nod?

I love hearing these phrases.

"How are you doin' today?"
"Sugar."
"Y'all."
"All Y'all."
"Fixin."



I meet the most interesting people during these exchanges, and often they turn into actually conversations.

I love these sweet little vignettes with others-- it gives me the feeling of a greater sense of community.

There is an elderly black gentleman that I see in downtown Franklin on a regular basis, that always says "How are ya doin'?" everytime I see him.
His name is Brother Henry. You can read about him, here:

http://www.southernexposuremagazine.com/past_issues/local-folk-brother-henry/article_de411895-7aa5-5998-a619-be7aa3f797b7.html


I enjoy listening to the exchange of pleasantries with locals that know each other-- there is truly an art form to the conversation- it isn't a quick conversation, it rolls melodically through checking on family members, and sharing the latest news. There may even be a "Bless her Heart" thrown in there for good measure.

I have found myself standing on the paint aisle at the store, lollygagging, just to hear two old codgers in overalls shoot the breeze.

I don't hear it on a regular basis, as there are many transplants to the area like us, and even some local friends, theirs is a soft lilting, not as much of a drawl.

Sometimes it throws me off completely, and I am not ready-- I have to pause, and rapidly try and translate in my head what they just said.

We got a new garbage can the other day, and the men that came to give me a new one were so nice, we stood on the curb discussing how "they just don't make things like they used to" and his accent was very thick.

Ricky came to my door to pour cement last summer, he sounded like 'Mater from Cars. Nicest man.  He showed me a video of his young grandson swinging in the backyard.

I get phone calls where I need to ask them to repeat themselves because it isn't clear to me what they are saying.

The Southern drawl isn't always slow-- I can understand the slower speech patterns more easily- even though my West Coast brain wants to finish their sentences for them.



I wonder if they feel the same about me, as we West Coasties talk really fast.....