A Taste of Dixie Dandy

"Remain in me, as I also remain in you. No branch can bear fruit by itself; it must remain in the vine. Neither can you bear fruit unless you remain in me." John 15:4

And just like that, all became quiet and quaint on our southern front.

It's been six months since we left the northeast and two wicked storms later, we seem to have been warmly embraced by our town as my tap root grows a green shoot and looks for water and sturdy soil.

In the last rather social week, we've wept on our knees with other believers in the parlor of a Pre-Civil War Antebellum home, all claiming that nothing but the blood of Jesus is our redeeming salvation.

Discussed with a handful of couples dwelling in the land of breeders that corporal punishment is alive and well and exactly what's missing in the world of entitled Godless ones...

Sipped scotch (club soda) on the porch of one of the South's oldest private clubs with two other Manhattanite transplants. As the unseasonably warm sun sunk over the cobblestones and into the ripples of the Cape Fear River, we clinked our glasses in an unspoken agreement that we were all glad to have left the madness behind.

Shared heaping bowls of greasy Pad Thai with other expectant parents, while comparing gun and ammo ownership, appreciation, and the depleting stock of local artillery shops who just can't keep up with young family's recent demands.

And then ultimately, along with our unborn baby, we were showered with the generous love and hospitality of the residents of our "Old Money" street where a lifetime member of Junior League and Garden club presented us a big yellow bow clad heirloom rocking chair, which belonged to her recently passed son, kissed my mouth, and said I'll be your local Grandma.

I choked back my homemade pimento cheese and smoked pork rib roll, looked at my husband, and said..."Could we may finally be home?"