I grew up in the 1950s with very Southern grandmothers, aunts, and great-grandmothers who'd recently seen the advent of electric lights and running water. Shoot, this is Georgia, in the 1970s, Sarah and I kept our milk in a bucket down the well to keep it really cold, and I've lived in an ole tenant shack with an outhouse before. When I started working in the Georgia public schools in 1977, only one third of that county's roads were paved. All this to say that often I spout off some extremely hillbilly phrases around here that my children pick up and repeat to others.
In Edgar's new job, he has opportunity for advancement, being bi-lingual and charming. He has come home lately though, and informed me that many of my hillbilly expressions simply have no equal translation into the Spanish language.
Duh, boy.
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