Avoiding the Flowers

I've been thinking of different ways to start this blog, considering the stories you will hear have been collected over a period of five years. My wife moved to Arkansas with her dad during our sophomore year in high school. I first traveled to her family's hometown in East Tennessee in the Spring of 2005. Her extended family lives in the lower Smoky Mountains close to the Georgia line. I didn't know what to expect (and with this family, I still sometimes don't know).

I guess we can start with my first trip to East Tennesee, which was our Spring Beak during our junior year of high school. We stayed with her mother (you will hear her referred to as "The Angry Divorcee" in later posts). Her grass was growing tall. I figured why not try to build some repore with my girlfriend's mother by offering to mow her lawn. I pulled out the old push mower from the shed, filled it with gas, and started to mow (making sure to dodge the flowers lining the driveway).

After I finished, I went inside and took a shower. After changing clothes, I walked out into the living room. A woman was sitting on the couch talking and smoking a cigarette whom I never met. Enter girlfriend's Aunt #1. She didn't introduce herself or ask me my name. She simply asked, "Yuns plannin' on pickin' them wild onions out yonder?" Everyone laughed but me.

I realized she was referring to the "flowers" I purposely avoided whacking down next to the driveway. Needless to say, I was not only embarrassed, but a little pissed off that my first impression was foiled by some damn "wild onions".

Later that day, I walked into the kitchen to get a soda and next to the fridge was a potato and onion box that my girlfriend's grandfather (you will hear him referred to as "Poppy" in later posts) built for all the women in the family. Carved into the top, it simply said "Taters and Unyuns". I chuckled at it.

Five years later, that girlfriend is now my wife and I'm still discovering that even wild onions have roots.