At Jazzercise many of my fellow exercisers were decked out in red and white in honor of Valentine’s Day. The woman in front of me even wore perky red socks speckled with vibrant multicolored hearts and a red and white polka-dotted ribbon in her hair.
It’s February. Football season ended months ago in other parts of the world. But red and white, coincidentally, are the colors of the University of Alabama, arch rival of Auburn University. Fanatic supporters couldn’t let the wearing of the enemy’s colors go unchallenged– even in the name of love– and so there were also women resolutely outfitted in Auburn’s orange and blue. I think their kicks were slightly more menacing, too.
That’s one way I knew I was in Alabama.
There were minuscule flakes of snow twirling from the sky. It was cold enough that a few piled on the roof and formed a tiny patch of white. The boys talked excitedly about buying sleds and going ice skating. I was able to capture a picture of the meteorological phenomenon that threw the guys into such a tizzy:
That’s another way I knew I was in Alabama.
Last summer I wrote about how it was June and I still had Christmas decorations up. In doing so, I showed a picture of my freezer, which held my frozen napkins, ready for ironing, a bag of lima beans, and a black garbage bag of unknown origin which I did not even stop to wonder about until a reader asked about its contents.
One of my husband’s friends who is a faithful reader alerted him that I was aware of the garbage bag, and it quickly disappeared. I thought no more about it until I was confronted with the shrimp-eating rat sitting on top of my clothes:
You know you’re in Alabama when your husband spends good money to have a common rodent stuffed and mounted.