Dear Readers,

Hi, how ya’ll? I’m good ... I’m talkin’ Tennessee. That is a Morgan Wallen (Sneedville native) quote from one of his best songs. We should all be proud of our southern heritage. Talk it, sing it, shout it.

What do you think about when you think about the South? Why a damsel in distress of course! I rely on men to help me out of distress. I believe in equal rights for women, but I just flat need too much help getting by to be a feminist.

And I like and respect men. Even when I’m making them crazy. Like my poor husband.

Well see, I have these real pretty pink suede high heels that I wear to our Bible meetings. And I absolutely cannot buckle them. Cannot. When I put them on, I ask my husband to buckle them for me. He’s usually looking good in his suit anyway, and this is probably one of my favorite moments in the week. He takes my foot in his beautiful hands and buckles it. Shew wee lord, ya’ll go on and be a feminist ... I’m liking this damsel in distress stuff!

Now some of the reasons I am sometimes a damsel in distress are because of silly things that I do. In fact, this is usually the case. Here’s an example ... whenever I visit my Aunt Zada out in the country on the family land we’ve been on forever, my cousin, Tom, insists that he teach me how to shoot his high-powered gun. He says I’d be safer if I carried a gun and learned how to shoot it.

He has the targets set up. He instructs me just exactly how to hold the gun. Now this gun can shoot straight through a cast iron pan, he tested it out on one of Aunt Zada’s old cast iron skillets (not her cornbread skillet mind you, that’d be a death sentence for sure ... you do not touch Aunt Zada’s cornbread skillet ... ask me why I know this sometime).

Anyway, one day Tom was showing me just how to hold the gun, I was terrified, but I was trying my best. I had on the headset to protect my ears, and I squeezed the trigger just like he said to do and BOOM, I shot a hole right through Aunt Zada’s carport. Well that didn’t go over to well with Aunt Zada, no sirree, she said, “Teresa the last thing you need is a gun!”

Sorry, cousin Tom, I can’t be rescued this time.

Well ya’ll you’d think my damsel in distress days with guns were over, but no, I can’t seem to learn. It happened at the attorney office I worked at over the winter.

I’ll tell ya’ll all about it in my next column. In the meantime, I pray that you’ll have a happy, safe and sweet day. I mean every bit of it. And have a literary day too.