Homesick...
I miss...
Flip-flops; how you start at the beginning of the summer with a nice neat row of them in your closet and by the end of the summer its a pile. And you can't wear some anymore because they are full of sand or beer or both.
Spanish moss; how it looks and smells and the way it feels if it falls on you.
Football; not professional football, I can watch that on TV. But walking in the summer and seeing pick up games. Be it 7 year old boys or--better, college boys home to visit. Shirts vs. Skins. Or whole family games where dad try and teach there sons "how it's REALLY done."
Animals: real animals: frogs and crickets and ducks and geese--REAL geese, the tall scary ones. Alligators sunbathing on the side of the road, people walking dogs and people riding horses, chickens in people's backyards and rabbits darting across lawn.
Mosquitoes; How they buzz horrible sweet nothings in your ear and then bit you. How that bit first whispers, then calls, then screams to be scratched. And when you finally give in there is nothing...NOTHING better than scratching it. And when you smash a mosquito between your hands you have to say outloud "Gotcha!" and you feel even more satisfied if it was full of blood when you squash it.
Kids: On bikes, on scooters, walking, jump roping, screaming, running, being EVERYWHERE! Everywhere to the point where you are afraid of pulling your car out of the driveway for fear that you'll hit them. In sprinkles, on trampolines, jumping ditches; older one running away and little ones attempting to catch up. And just waking up in the afternoon to the sound of giggling outside and hearing it all day long until the street lights come on and mammas call from porches.
Putting on short shorts and heels and walking on Bourbon! Carrying around icy cold beers and mixed drinks because its so hot. Squeezing your way onto packed dance floors where it's hotter than it is outside but still having fun.
Being hot! I miss being hot so much! The kind of hot that sticks to you. So that you feel like you are suffocating. And your hair frizzes up and your mouth goes dry and all you can think about when you're in it is being out of it. That kind of hot; real hot! Not 60 degrees in the sun hot.
FOOD! Oh how I miss food! REAL FOOD! Walking up to eggs and bacon and toast and coffee and biscuits!
Smelling your neighbor's grill going from over the fence and having them call over that you better stop by before the day is out.
Going to brunch at Cafe Degas in the garden district and stuffing yourself so much with cheese and pate and grits that you don't even want to bother with the museum after.
Going to two or three different houses in a day and having everyone's parents or grandparents saying "I cooked some greens" or "I have some left over red beans" or "Have some jambalaya" and how they all get offended if you say no so by the end of the night you are so stuffed you don't even want to go out anymore and y'all just pick a house and park it in front of a TV until you pass out in a food coma.
Piles and Piles of boiled crawfish and crabs and sausage and potatoes and garlic and shrimp and corn! So high you can barely see over it and the first batch thrown on the picnic table is always too hot to touch, but you have to try anyway because your uncle will snatch up all the ones with big tails and claws. How the outside of your Coke can gets all sticky with spicy juice because you keep grabbing it with hot spicy, juicy hands. And how it's only fair that you spend some of your time peeling for your little cousins who can't yet.
Or walking into the house one evening to the smell of your absolute all time favorite dinner ever on the stove! How you don't even have to ask, you know! And you streamline to the kitchen to check the pot, just in case! How checking the pot turns into just a little taste and just a little taste turns into just a little bowl before dinner is official served. And how you are the only one who can get away with that because mamma knows its YOUR FAVORITE FAVORITE FAVORITE meal!
She cooked it just for you...onions cut small just like you like it. A tiny pot of brown rice that no one else is allowed to touch because its yours. And you have to cook the cornbread because you are the only one who knows how to make it perfect perfect with just the right amount of sugar in it and butter on top.
My life here is take-out. Take-out and to-go and all that jazz. And I talk about food alot because its more than just a meal. I am proud to say I live to eat and not eat to live. Because it really isn't about how good it taste or how many calories it has. I just miss knowing that someone cares about me enough to chop up onion really tiny because that's how I like it. And how everyone would always say my cornbread was the best.
I miss alot of things, but most of all I miss culture. Whether its in the flip-flops, or days spent on the river walk, eating beignets, walking with friends, anything! I miss knowing that no matter what happens I belong in a place and knowing that I'll never go hungry because there are a billion neighbors and friends and friends' parents and friends' parents' neighbors ready to welcome you into their homes and backyards and campgrounds with a handshake, hug, pat on the back, ice cold beer and piles and piles of food that they spent hours preparing just to show you how much they genuinely care about you.
That's what I mean when I say homesick.
Flip-flops; how you start at the beginning of the summer with a nice neat row of them in your closet and by the end of the summer its a pile. And you can't wear some anymore because they are full of sand or beer or both.
Spanish moss; how it looks and smells and the way it feels if it falls on you.
Football; not professional football, I can watch that on TV. But walking in the summer and seeing pick up games. Be it 7 year old boys or--better, college boys home to visit. Shirts vs. Skins. Or whole family games where dad try and teach there sons "how it's REALLY done."
Animals: real animals: frogs and crickets and ducks and geese--REAL geese, the tall scary ones. Alligators sunbathing on the side of the road, people walking dogs and people riding horses, chickens in people's backyards and rabbits darting across lawn.
Mosquitoes; How they buzz horrible sweet nothings in your ear and then bit you. How that bit first whispers, then calls, then screams to be scratched. And when you finally give in there is nothing...NOTHING better than scratching it. And when you smash a mosquito between your hands you have to say outloud "Gotcha!" and you feel even more satisfied if it was full of blood when you squash it.
Kids: On bikes, on scooters, walking, jump roping, screaming, running, being EVERYWHERE! Everywhere to the point where you are afraid of pulling your car out of the driveway for fear that you'll hit them. In sprinkles, on trampolines, jumping ditches; older one running away and little ones attempting to catch up. And just waking up in the afternoon to the sound of giggling outside and hearing it all day long until the street lights come on and mammas call from porches.
Putting on short shorts and heels and walking on Bourbon! Carrying around icy cold beers and mixed drinks because its so hot. Squeezing your way onto packed dance floors where it's hotter than it is outside but still having fun.
Being hot! I miss being hot so much! The kind of hot that sticks to you. So that you feel like you are suffocating. And your hair frizzes up and your mouth goes dry and all you can think about when you're in it is being out of it. That kind of hot; real hot! Not 60 degrees in the sun hot.
FOOD! Oh how I miss food! REAL FOOD! Walking up to eggs and bacon and toast and coffee and biscuits!
Smelling your neighbor's grill going from over the fence and having them call over that you better stop by before the day is out.
Going to brunch at Cafe Degas in the garden district and stuffing yourself so much with cheese and pate and grits that you don't even want to bother with the museum after.
Going to two or three different houses in a day and having everyone's parents or grandparents saying "I cooked some greens" or "I have some left over red beans" or "Have some jambalaya" and how they all get offended if you say no so by the end of the night you are so stuffed you don't even want to go out anymore and y'all just pick a house and park it in front of a TV until you pass out in a food coma.
Piles and Piles of boiled crawfish and crabs and sausage and potatoes and garlic and shrimp and corn! So high you can barely see over it and the first batch thrown on the picnic table is always too hot to touch, but you have to try anyway because your uncle will snatch up all the ones with big tails and claws. How the outside of your Coke can gets all sticky with spicy juice because you keep grabbing it with hot spicy, juicy hands. And how it's only fair that you spend some of your time peeling for your little cousins who can't yet.
Or walking into the house one evening to the smell of your absolute all time favorite dinner ever on the stove! How you don't even have to ask, you know! And you streamline to the kitchen to check the pot, just in case! How checking the pot turns into just a little taste and just a little taste turns into just a little bowl before dinner is official served. And how you are the only one who can get away with that because mamma knows its YOUR FAVORITE FAVORITE FAVORITE meal!
She cooked it just for you...onions cut small just like you like it. A tiny pot of brown rice that no one else is allowed to touch because its yours. And you have to cook the cornbread because you are the only one who knows how to make it perfect perfect with just the right amount of sugar in it and butter on top.
My life here is take-out. Take-out and to-go and all that jazz. And I talk about food alot because its more than just a meal. I am proud to say I live to eat and not eat to live. Because it really isn't about how good it taste or how many calories it has. I just miss knowing that someone cares about me enough to chop up onion really tiny because that's how I like it. And how everyone would always say my cornbread was the best.
I miss alot of things, but most of all I miss culture. Whether its in the flip-flops, or days spent on the river walk, eating beignets, walking with friends, anything! I miss knowing that no matter what happens I belong in a place and knowing that I'll never go hungry because there are a billion neighbors and friends and friends' parents and friends' parents' neighbors ready to welcome you into their homes and backyards and campgrounds with a handshake, hug, pat on the back, ice cold beer and piles and piles of food that they spent hours preparing just to show you how much they genuinely care about you.
That's what I mean when I say homesick.