Today I am so super excited to introduce/ leave you in the very capable hands of the lovely Mrs. Hayley Hayes. Hayley is the uber fab, hilarious, super mom, couponing machine over at
It's Kind of a Big Deal. Seriously though... she is a whiz kid with a coupon book.
If you are looking for a great laugh or for a great couponing resource she's got you covered! It is such an honor to have her grace my blog and I hope ya'll enjoy her just as much as I do. Now let's show this lady some love.
Here's Hayley!
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Gooooooood
Morning everybody! I'm so honored that Molly has asked me to post on
Fiddle Dee Dee today. As you, her faithful audience knows, Molly is a
good ole southern girl. In the spirit of her personality, I decided to
write about life as a southerner. Here are 3 signs that you're southern.
3 Signs That You're Southern
1. You paint everything white. With rustic accents.
We love finding furniture deals. And it doesn't even matter what
condition the furniture is in because you can allllllways just paint it
white. My mom finds furniture by the curb on her daily walks and isn't
afraid to packmule it back to the house for a fresh coat of white
paint.
There are different varieties depending on what look you're going for.
The "crackled" white paint is used for items that need to look like
they've perfectly and beautifully aged in a very clean barn where there
are no animals. The kind of white paint we prefer to use is called
"touch up paint." For some reason, Mason thinks we should cover up nail
holes when WE (I can say "we" here because WE are married and there's no
need to point fingers) decide that some things hanging on the wall need
to hang in different places on the wall. You see? White paint is
versatile. Throw in a mason jar (if your husbands name is "Mason" insert
a witty joke here) and you've got a nice living space with a lot of
good ole southern charm.
2. Everyone has a story. Everyone. Everywhere. Has a loooooooong story.
I'm not sure if this is a strictly Southern thing, but I do know that
when I was in New York the residents did the OPPOSITE of tell me a
story. When I asked someone where the bathroom was, all I got was half
of a head nod... to the bathroom that was 16 blocks away. Thank you for
the clear instructions. When I was in Chile the people were friendly,
but I don't think they really told stories either. Of course, it's hard
to say WHAT they were telling me because I know, I know I have a degree
in Spanish but they speak so dad gum fast.
In Arkansas, EVERYONE will tell you a story. I was at the Avis rent a
car the other day (not renting a car), and the elderly lady beside me
set to work telling me alllllllll about her family, her husband, how she
forgot to put her teeth back in today, how she wasn't really supposed
to be out of the house. I didn't mind listening- the only problem came
when she couldn't hear my follow up questions. She told me that her
grandson was about to graduate college so I asked what his degree would
be in.
"HUH????!"
"Your GRAND. SON. WHAT is his degree in??"
"Hun, I can't hear you, speak up."
"THE DEGREE! What is it in??!?"
"I'm hard of hearing, WHAT NOW HONEY!??"
"THE DEGREE! THE DEGREE!!"
"What degree??"
So then I didn't talk anymore. I just let her ramble through her gums.
When she left the Avis guy looked up from the counter and said "Wow, she
was really telling you her story wasn't she? You know- my wife is
pregnant. We're sorta nervous because its our first baby. We just knew
it was a girl but it's a boy...."
10 minutes later, it was time to go so I had to cut him off.
Thats how it is in the South. We have something to say and anyone with
ears gets to hear it. Why do you think it takes 3 hours for a southern
woman to get a haircut? She has a lot of talking to do.
3. We love outdoor weddings.
Picture it: the sunset is beautiful. All of your friends and family are
sitting on pretty white chairs. It seems that the bride must have gotten
a very good deal on burlap. And Mason jars. Which are looking pretty in
the sunset too. We're all sitting there smiling. No one is thinking
about the heat. Except that...
Yall. We've got good glands. No amount of speed stick can match the
sweat that comes with an outdoor Summer wedding in the south. And by
"sweat" I mean "glisten profusely."
The
hottest I can remember being in my life (outside of any summer camp
experience- have MERCY CAMP. IS. HOT.) was at an outdoor Alabama
wedding in season of "burning furnace" also known as Summer. The chairs
might as well have been stacked vertically, since we were literally
overlapping sweaty arm jiggle with our neighbors. It was around this
time that we started coining shortcut phrases to describe our sweat.
Mason: I have got some serious swack. (sweaty back)
Me: Ohhh, I've got swack and 2 swarms (sweaty arms)
Mason:
Well, I feel sorry for the person that has to wipe this seat down
because I have the worst---- well, I can't share this one for the sake
of keeping this post PG, but you get the idea.
All joking aside, outdoor weddings really are beautiful. And even if I
have to rehydrate through an IV the following morning, they are totally
worth it. The amount of sweat sweated is almost like a meter measuring
fun. If your guests dance the night away, forgetting about their paper
white skin, and sweat out everything they drank that day, you know your
wedding was a success.