Now that the honeymoon period is winding down in reference to my move from the South to the North, I find myself in a realistic place. Kind of like after the honeymoon if you’re glad you’re adjusting to the guy you married but still like various things about the guys before him.

I’m still going to keep some of my Southern vocabulary. It will be the most descriptive choice of words and endearing as well when I say “All of y’all”. Often, my ex has a “thumping gizzard” holding his new pacemaker, and a “wreck” just sounds like more of an event than an “accident”.

The Yankee palates are enjoying my chicken casserole. Next time I will treat them to another of my Southern treats– Seven Layer Salad– tasty and looking gorgeous in the clear glass bowl. I never mastered biscuits so it will be hard rolls and bagels for all.

I’m still getting over sticker shock at the price of going to the vet, DMV fees, and how much housing and property taxes are around here. Wages will adjust to costs of living—this will settle in with time and trust. Getting used to driving on congested highways that were country roads 23 years ago is gradually happening—I’m acquiring the needed pushiness and sometimes the light I go through is green. I’m no Lawn Doctor, but I’m perfecting a self-medicating system to avoid tearing up (breaking) the John Deere.

Happily, I find myself in a realistic place: New Jersey.

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