From Magnolias to Maple Syrup...

Mark Twain, a man who knew a thing or two about both the South and a good story, once said, “With courage you will dare to take risks, have the strength to be compassionate, and the wisdom to be humble. Courage is the foundation of integrity.” Now, I’m not sure about the humble part just yet (a girl’s gotta have some sass!), but courage? Honey, this Southern Belle took a big ol’ leap of faith last July. I packed up my life, my heart, and my drawl, and swapped the Mighty Mississippi River for the lakes of New Hampshire.

You see, I’ve always been a Dixie darling, born and bred below the Mason-Dixon Line. Sure, my daddy’s work in the nuclear business had us crisscrossing the country for visits – from Northern New York to the sunny tip of Florida and everywhere in between. We were road-trip royalty! But living anywhere but the South? That was a whole other kettle of fish I’d never thought to fry.

So, picture this: July 2024. One SUV, bursting at the seams. My ever-patient husband, our three wonderful, wild-at-heart kiddos (then a spunky 5-year-old, a burgeoning 11-year-old, and a wise-beyond-her-years 12-year-old), and bless his furry heart, our four-year-old Great Pyrenees. You’re probably imagining one of those picturesque videos, right? Soothing music, sun-dappled scenes of a happy family frolicking…

Well, if I didn’t stretch the truth a little, I wouldn’t be a proper Southern gal, would I? Let's just say the reality involved less frolicking and more… spirited discussions. There was crying (mostly me, sometimes the kids), a fair bit of yelling (okay, definitely me), and a dog so hopped up on anxiety meds he looked like a giant, fluffy stoner shuffling along at every pit stop. It was a journey, alright!

But through the chaos, there was fun, genuine fun! We hit up every quirky roadside attraction we could find, transforming that long haul from the hot, sticky embrace of a Mississippi summer to what New Englanders apparently call a "HOT" summer. Let me tell you, 96 degrees at an amusement park up here? We were LOVING IT! No humidity clinging to you like Spanish moss, actual lovely breezes, and the sheer bliss of eating ice cream at a pace that didn’t involve it racing down your arm in under 45 seconds. Summer in New England, I quickly learned, has its own sweet charm.

Fast forward, and it’s been nearly a year in this brave new world. The snow has melted (hallelujah!), the leaves are budding, and it feels like the right time to finally spill the sweet tea on what life’s really been like with this monumental change of scenery.

The kids? They’ve almost conquered their first New England school year, and I’m thrilled to report they’re mostly thriving. My now 6-year-old, bless his heart, jumped in with both feet and is collecting friends like lightning bugs in a jar. The 12-year-old boy is fully embracing the pre-teen grunts and eye-rolls, while my 13-year-old daughter is serving up full-blown teenage sass with a side of attitude – a daily special, it seems. But they’ve made their circles; my oldest even found her chorus and theatre tribe, already belting her heart out and making her mark. Home is definitely their safe space to unleash all that teenage angst, and that’s alright. Us Southern women are bred to take it all in stride… and give a little bit of that sugar-coated sass right back.

As for Mom and Dad, well, we’re navigating a whole new landscape of experiences we never quite imagined. People always say going South is like stepping into another world – culturally, figuratively, you name it. But let me tell you, coming North ain't so different in its own unique way. We’ve been blessed to meet some truly wonderful folks, kindred spirits who radiate warmth, and we’re so grateful to be finding “our people.”

But, Lord have mercy, living in New England is different. I had a lady at the doctor’s office – after clocking my accent and politely inquiring where I was from – tell me straight, “Don’t expect anyone to invite you over for a cup of tea. New Englanders aren’t just going to open their arms and welcome you in.” Honey, truer words have rarely been spoken. Now, don’t get me wrong, folks are cordial, they have their manners. But they aren’t exactly falling over themselves to get to know you or fold you into their established social circles. It's a different brand of polite, that's for sure.

And then there's me. If you can’t tell already, I’m a talker. A bit of a loud one, if I’m honest – "Foghorn" was a legitimate childhood nickname. I’m used to a certain friendliness, where if you pass someone in a grocery store aisle, you offer a kind "hello," maybe even comment on the outrageous price of avocados. Up here? I’ve gotten looks that could curdle milk when I’ve done just that, or even just asked where to find something (because let me tell you, even THE Walmart is laid out all kinds of topsy-turvy compared to back home!).

So, now that I’ve got the tea brewing, you’ll just have to keep checking in to hear more about this grand adventure – the trials, the triumphs, and the downright funny moments of this Southern Belle finding her way in New England.

Stay tuned, y’all!