Rinn seems to be adjusting just fine. He appears to have plenty of pleasant conversations with the locals. I say "appears" because his speech consists solely of incoherent babbling other than the words "hi" and "mom" and I catch about every 5th word of the southern accent. Basically, when the girl at the grocery checkout tries to make small chat, Rinn and I look eerily similar; smiles, eager nods and polite laughter. Rinn has no qualms about this but I walk away confused as to whether she wanted to "help me" or "hump me."
One oberservation that I can speak on is that Arkansas is overrun with the elderly and every damn one of them has an opinion about child rearing. The cost of living here is ridiculously inexpensive so it's no wonder that it's a mecca for geriatric retiree's looking for a small slice of land to park their gigantic RV and consequently dole out unsolicited advice to the younger generation found toting around small children. I really should be more receptive to their wisdom considering that whole respect-your-elders thing but its hard to decipher which are actually wise in the ways of the world and which left their wits somewhere in the late 60's. I want to take you seriously but then you try telling me that by giving my son soy milk, I'm all but guaranteeing that he become one of those "homosexuals" and I start to look around to see if you've been separated from a group being led by a person donning white scrubs and carrying an empty straitjacket.
If you ignore that, and the fact that my dad and husband unknowingly slaughtered one of the most revered snakes of the state by clobbering it with a pickax in the driveway, I'd say we're doing an alright job of adjusting to our new culture.
I may have been absent from the blogging world,
But I've always kept up on the Twitter machine so follow me: @RebeccaRinn
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