So, I love Tennessee and all. Like, really. There’s been some situations; however,that felt like culture shock.
1. I was checking out in line and while I was paying, one of the workers said to me “ma’m do you want me to take your buggy?”
I paused and was trying to figure out what she meant. I paused a good 6 seconds. I then used context clues realizing she meant the shopping cart. Sweetest lady, probably thought I was an airhead or didn’t know English.
2. I was doing a walk through of Harlow Knox and saw in the backyard we had a lot of new foliage growing. It looked like blueberries but I knew they weren’t. I was in awe how cute they were.
I asked Instagram what it was and got a few sweet dms saying it was pokeberries. I googled all about pokeberries. Apparently, they are not “cutie” and actually can be poisonous.
Note to future self: don’t touch plants that you don’t know what they are.
3. I was at an antique store (where the chair in this picture is from) and a gentlemen came up to me out of the blue and started sharing how he refurbished a chair with the same material and talked all about his process. I was definitely hangry at that point, but he wouldn’t have known, I would never show my hangryness to someone not my husband. He was the sweetest guy. He had a hand gun casually sitting in his left pocket. Good for him, I don’t really care, but it caught me off guard. Let me say, if anything were to happen around us, I’d feel pretty dang safe with him.
I could probably list a few more, but it’s been so precious being here. 🥹
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