- Even though I had to yell “Watch out for that goat!” making Seth swerve quickly to the left as we were driving to the Mall, for the first time since leaving, something in me wants to move back home. I used to roll my eyes at all the bad grammar and write a prissy “Take that!” with every essay I handed to a university professor, but now I let double negatives slip on purpose. I am wrong sometimes. And I know that I am wrong. And I like it.
- There are many confederate flags waving across the Alabama sky right out front of double-wides with plastic covering the windows where glass should be. They afford their pride, and many that can’t afford it wish that they could. Alive and well is this divided country – and not by North and South.
- Isaac knows what a pasture is. He’s walked across them, listened to them, and picked their berries. We came back to the big-A house in this perfectly sodded neighborhood, and I thought it was so nice, so safe. We don’t have to watch our step here – to watch for rattle snakes or poison oak. We don’t have mountain laurel creeping up from jagged rocks bigger than houses. We can’t hear a creek raging below the bluff. There is no unfenced cliff here and no fresh water spring with crayfish as big as my feet.
- Knowing that my brother is married to a woman who deeply adores him and seeing how aware they are of each other makes so many things seem small. There is no greater, overwhelming thing than knowing that you and your family are loved – not one thing outdoes that.
- When I go to Alabama, we have an unspoken eating contest, and I always win. If I ate one blackberry, I ate 4, 378 blackberries – and right off their devilish bushes at that.
- Squash (after my husband and Jesus) You are the love of my life.
- I called Mama before we hit the road, and she told me that she hid a key under the Mama Squirrel. If you aren’t from Alabama, you don’t know how boring your life really is.