Tradition

In the south, we have lots of wonderful traditions. We say yes Ma'am and yes Sir to all people older than we are. Small children will call you Miss (whatever your name is)i.e. Miss Carol or Mr. John. We say things like Bless Your Little Pea Picking Heart. This saying is sometimes full of sympathy and sometimes not so much...a tiny bit derogatory. We make long sentences out of one syllable words..... HEYYYYYYY or NOOOOOOOOOOO. We put peanuts in our Coca Colas. We wear our pearls daily. We garden and can and then mid-winter try to figure out what is in all those canning jars. We enjoy lots of pickled items...pickled beets, pickled okra, pickled peaches and pickled pigs feet. But one of our more genteel traditions is to display wedding gifts. We dig out our white tablecloths that have been passed down for generations. Our great-grandmothers either embroidered or did cut work on these beauties. Shockingly, these delicate babies can have stains on them since they haven't seen the light of day in 20 years. We soak them in clorox or lemon juice and hang them in the sun. We wash and iron them and act like we use these on a daily basis. Once the tables are covered, we display the wedding gifts. Linens go in one area, formal items are on the sideboard, the back table is full of everyday china, mixers, bowls and grill pans. Every bride will receive a token strange gift. Mine was a mushroom log. I swear on a stack of bibles this is true.
Nonetheless, the item will be displayed like it was part of the queen's crown jewels. The decorator in all of us emerges. I display the items and Precious rearranges. Thank you notes will soon be in the mail. Tradition.