Southern Lady Code

Southern Lady Code

Adult humor
"No fairy tale begins: 'Once upon a time, he blindfolded me in
the back seat of a car.' No fantasy has another woman's hair clogging
up the drains. A suitcase full of gowns doesn't make you a princess.
Be careful what you wish for, Cinderella's house was infested with
mice."
Helen Ellis, author of Southern Lady Code (a technique of saying
something not so nice in a nice way if you don't have anything nice to
say), is fluent in that discourse. It's the very colorful voice
through which she narrates her collection of stories. This book is
the perfect accompaniment to a dark beer (providing you're 21 or over)
and your choice of salty snacks. However, it would probably be laugh
out loud funny if you read it stone cold sober.
Ellis is old enough to have decided that the strategies probably
necessary to get pregnant in her forties would be too much work. Her
ultrasouthern mother still addresses her by first and middle names
when scolding her, something most of our parents gave up on when we
passed them in height or started high school.
"Helen Michelle, some women would be beaten with a bag of
oranges for sass talk like that. You married a saint. Clean the
goddamned table."
In fact the first essay is concerned with a housecleaning binge,
motivated by her hubby's request for a clean dining room table,
followed by an epic backslide. Other episodes include getting access
to the pill in a household in which birth control advice contained
gems such as "And don't let anybody touch your woo-woo!"; mistakenly
stealing an expensive trench coat, learning the correct way to get
high, and growing up in a haunted house.
With or without the beer, you will probably find the book really
funny. Here on coronavirus day 13 we need a laugh. So why not indulge?
On a purrrsonal note, I had two good things happen yesterday (apart
from waking up alive without symptoms, having enough food for the
family including Tobago, and having Eugene come home safely from work
which I am so not taking for granted). One is a minor miracle. With
UMaine classes turning on line, I was in deep doo doo. I had about as
much knowledge of how to install and access zoom as I do how to
conduct heart surgery. When we had the trial run I was the only one
who couldn't figure out how to join in. Then a tech person from
UMaine's IT department talked me step by step (over the phone) through
installing zoom and promised to help me connect the first post break
actual class. He saved my semester. It was also warm enough for me
to take a long awaited walk. The only other person I saw was a woman
driving by. We exchanged a smile and wave from enough of a distance
to deserve a World Health Organization stamp of approval. (Jules)
It is spring already. The days are getting longer. It's getting
warmer out. So where are the birdies? Inquiring cats want to know.
(Tobago)
A great big shout out goes out to all the tech fluent people who are
helping the rest of us adjust to the new normal of distance work/
school (You are ROCK STARS!) and to my daughter, Amber, who taught her
physics class by zoom for the first time (You go, Girl!)
Tobago and Jules Hathaway


Sent from my iPod