New Pioneer
Part 3: Land of whispering pines
One year,
after going through a marriage, kids, and a divorce, I finally
decided that I needed to actually hold down a decent job,
and I fell in love with North Carolina. Land of whispering
pines, the Blue Ridge Mountains, and the Lost Colony.
I loved
North Carolina, and I quite happily settled in. And then
someone (a local) asked me:
"Do
you know what the difference is between a Yankee and a Damn
Yankee?"
"Umm…no,
what?" I set myself up.
"Yankees
are from the North. Damn Yankees STAY!"
I was a
Damn Yankee. I was a Damn Yankee for fourteen years.
While I
was happy being a Damn Yankee, I took up on the Internet.
(You'll notice here, of course, that I have adopted Southern
colloquial expressions in my every day language, such as
"reckon," and "took up with," although
"took up with" is usually meant in a negative
way, i.e.: "You know, Lula Mae took up with that Petersen
boy. He's going to break her heart. He's already in a mess
of trouble.")
Anyway,
I took up on the Internet and made a bunch of pen pals.
I also got propositioned by a doctor in Egypt, who swore
he would treat me well, and a wealthy (he said) German businessman.
(I was tempted.) I heard from just about every lonely heart
in central North Carolina, and some more from overseas,
as well. You would think, with a divorce behind me, and
teenaged sons that I was now raising on my own, that I would
have been excited about dating some of these guys. They
would have given me the stability my life was lacking…
but NO. I played it safe and flirted on the Internet with
a guy just outside of Sydney, Australia.
Part
4: Two seasons: winter, and mosquitoes
this travelogue is part of the subside
travelzine
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