She is a sweet lady, and one of the things I treasure about being married to my Arizona wife is the great family of Arizona Sicilians I inherited in the process. However, certain members of the family, like the dear lady I am talking about, have never traveled much to the east of Arizona.
A few days after she learned of our decision, she sent my wife an email in which she seemed to indicate that she was under the impression that folks were poor and not very well educated in the South.
I had thought that we had put that idea out to pasture (that’s what we do with things in the South), back in the days of the Yankee school teachers.
You see, I grew up in Pensacola, Florida, attending Catholic schools from first grade through my graduation from Pensacola Catholic High in 1963. Along the way, in addition to the bevy of nuns who tried, with varying degrees of success, to drum knowledge into my thick skull, there was a small cadre of earnest young ladies from up North who filled in when enough nuns were not available.
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