Southerners work hard. We always have. We believe in a good day's work, a hard week's pay. Most of us--sadly, not all of us--are honest when it comes to putting our "hand to the plow."
We've been known to play hard too. Some Friday nights you'll find us out and about, though sometimes we're just too blame tired ("tard") to do much more than head over to the local pizza joint. Or maybe we'll go out and get us some barbecue. Lord willin'.
But Saturdays are a whole different story. Saturday is for going to the river or the creek ("crick"). Swinging off ropes tied high to a tree and dropping down into the water. Saturday is for heading over to the beach or the lake. Water sports or fishing.
Of course we'll get too much sun, so on Sunday you'll find us sitting in our favorite pew, sun-kissed and trying to stay awake.
Of course that whole scenario changes in the winter months.
Now Sunday ... Sunday is about meeting with God. Singing His songs. Greeting one another in brotherly love. Family dinner around 1:00. Afterward, the game. Whatever game that is. And if there isn't one, we'll make one up in the side yard. Or take a long nap. Or watch an old movie. Or maybe go see a new one.
So maybe that's why I like rolled hay. It reminds me how blessed I am to have been born and reared in the South.
American by birth. Southern by the grace of God.