Country-fied
We live in the boonies. Lots of cows and barns around, open fields, old rusty trucks... It takes us almost 30 minutes to reach the nearest small town.
Many of the things I love most about our home are related to being in the country. We have gorgeous views of mountians all around. The sunsets are amazing. I love sitting outside on the swing in the evening and hearing fluttering leaves, cows mooing, a distant train whistle, and echoes of church bells. Nighttime is very dark, and you could sit out all night, counting millions of stars, listening to an enchanting soundtrack of crickets and tree frogs.
We wouldn't trade living here for anything.
But it is still the country, and you have to deal with things like snakes in the basement, tractors (and occasionally cows) in the road, being an hour from emergency medical care, and...the accent.
We don't live far south enough for the accent to be endearing. Nope, it's your stereotypical backwoods, slow-living speech. Some thicker than others, though I wish someone would explain to me how when the local news does interviews, they manage to find people with accents so thick it's almost a foreign language.
I digress...
I suppose it was bound to happen. Trey is developing an accent. His speech has become much clearer lately, and with that, he has started adding very unnecessary syllables to some words.
Dad = Day-yad
Nap = Nay-yap
Bath = Bay-yaf
Bed = Bay-yed
Where = Way-yer
Found = Fay-yound
Oh me.
Many of the things I love most about our home are related to being in the country. We have gorgeous views of mountians all around. The sunsets are amazing. I love sitting outside on the swing in the evening and hearing fluttering leaves, cows mooing, a distant train whistle, and echoes of church bells. Nighttime is very dark, and you could sit out all night, counting millions of stars, listening to an enchanting soundtrack of crickets and tree frogs.
We wouldn't trade living here for anything.
But it is still the country, and you have to deal with things like snakes in the basement, tractors (and occasionally cows) in the road, being an hour from emergency medical care, and...the accent.
We don't live far south enough for the accent to be endearing. Nope, it's your stereotypical backwoods, slow-living speech. Some thicker than others, though I wish someone would explain to me how when the local news does interviews, they manage to find people with accents so thick it's almost a foreign language.
I digress...
I suppose it was bound to happen. Trey is developing an accent. His speech has become much clearer lately, and with that, he has started adding very unnecessary syllables to some words.
Dad = Day-yad
Nap = Nay-yap
Bath = Bay-yaf
Bed = Bay-yed
Where = Way-yer
Found = Fay-yound
Oh me.
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