Growing up in New York State, there were certain things I knew to be true. Sweaters were never put away because the summer night-time temperatures often dipped in the 50s.

The only “pool” we knew about was the city park pool where people threw pennies in during the summer and ice skated in the winter. Winter toys included sleds and toboggans, and our moms put flannel sheets on the beds come September.

We moved to Louisiana when I was in middle school; and over the years, I’ve come to understand some of the differences between Northerners and Southerners.

Let’s start with winters. Northerners know when the last leaf falls from the maple tree, it’s time to unpack the snow pants, gloves, mittens, woolen scarves, down jackets and thermal underwear.

They stock up on salt to spread over their sidewalks, make sure the car’s snow chains are ready and give the snow blower a tune up.

Southerners haul out their sweat pants but keep their shorts handy because we’re usually running the air conditioner on Christmas Day. We make sure there’s a new spark plug in the lawn mower because we just might be running that bad boy the day after Thanksgiving.

Cast-iron pots and pans aren’t items cowboys use. They are family heirlooms, passed down carefully from generation to generation. They never – gasp –see soap and water. Instead, they are wiped clean with a paper towel and placed back on the gas-top stove to air dry.

Every once in a while, we wipe the inside out with lard or Crisco and put the pan in the oven for a few hours to re-season the cast iron.

Don’t even think about letting that cookware rust.

Ever.

Our insects are fierce in the South. Northerners have sweet bumblebees and colorful yellow jackets but we have cockroaches that are as big as a mouse and seem to fly.

And let’s not forget fire ants. Growing up, I remember watching harmless black ants for hours in our back yard.

Here, we have fire ants that are indestructible. In a flood, they band together and create islands that float to a new destination where they double in number in less than an hour.

Southerners know they’re in Yankee territory when they see the word “crayfish.” Calling crawfish anything other than crawfish is a sure giveaway that you’re not from a southern state.

So is mispronouncing the word “pecan.” In the South, it’s “puh-kahn.” Anyone who pronounces it “pee-can” is describing something people might use in an outhouse.

Despite our differences, there are truisms Northerners and Southerners share. Front porches are not only treasured, but they’re an extension of our hearts and our homes.

No matter the size of that porch, it’s there where we watch our children play, visit with our loved ones and relax as the sun sets.

Football teams require devout loyalty and a willingness to go all out for the team. There’s no way a Southerner can laugh at a Green Bay Packers fan for wearing a foam cheese wedge on her head when we paint the shutters on our homes purple and gold to show our loyalty for the LSU Tigers.

We share a love of family, country and faith. How else to explain our belief that one day the Houston Texans will go to the Super Bowl and the Pittsburg Steelers will recreate the glory days from the 1970s?

Maybe if we join forces, we can figure out how to get rid of those fire ants once and for all because, watch out Northerners, those monsters are on their way to you.

Now if we can just convince you that the only acceptable kind of tea is sweet tea, then we’re home free.

 

This column was originally published in The Fort Bend Herald.