Thursday, April 16, 2009
Tuesday, April 14, 2009
Southern Baptists
Southern Baptists.... Now there's two words that could fill a few books by just giving a description of the words.
Southerners are a different breed of people. At least they used to be in the olden days when I was growing up. Folks sat on their front porches in the evening instead of being glued to the boob tube and greeted their neighbors and anyone else passing by. Children played out until the street lights came on and then they knew it was time to head home. No one worried about children being snatched, at least I never heard of any such thing, because 'neighborhood watch' was a part of everyday life. If a child got into trouble, and we often did, a neighbor had notified your parents who would be standing on the porch waiting for you when you came home. I forgot to add that a switch would be in their hands. You knew what you were in for.
Southerners are in general a private sort of people. When infiltrated by outsiders, who seemed to have no qualms about asking personal questions, southerners would give them a smile but no answer. We chalked it up to bad manners. Each geographical group of people have their own customs. I think much could be learned from the southern culture.
The term Baptist seems to leave the world today with a vision of a gun toting, bun wearing, Bible in hand, extremists. Not so. Baptists are some of the most loving, fun to be with people on earth. Our staunch belief in the Word of God makes us seem unbendable and thus backward to the ways of the world. We do believe the Bible is the Word of God given to man through the inspiration of the Holy Spirit. We do not bend on that.
I grew up, along with my brother George and 3 other siblings, in a family of folks who attended church and some who never darkened the door of a church. Our relations were some of the most colorful characters you would ever meet. There were barbers, sheriffs, tailors, farmers, mailmen and an army of strong opinionated women. I'll tell you about these wonderful people sometime.
I have just found an outlet for some of these stories in writing along with George 'The World's First Ever Baptist Crime Novel'. It was fun and has probably started me on the road to another novel.
I am a geezer and live in the small southern town of LaGrange, GA with my husband Dave, who is a transplanted Yankee from Ohio. It's been a wild ride for the last 17 years we have been married, but I wouldn't change a thing. Except for..... well, I'll save that for another post.
I am thinking of renaming my blog. Any suggestions?
Ginny
Southerners are a different breed of people. At least they used to be in the olden days when I was growing up. Folks sat on their front porches in the evening instead of being glued to the boob tube and greeted their neighbors and anyone else passing by. Children played out until the street lights came on and then they knew it was time to head home. No one worried about children being snatched, at least I never heard of any such thing, because 'neighborhood watch' was a part of everyday life. If a child got into trouble, and we often did, a neighbor had notified your parents who would be standing on the porch waiting for you when you came home. I forgot to add that a switch would be in their hands. You knew what you were in for.
Southerners are in general a private sort of people. When infiltrated by outsiders, who seemed to have no qualms about asking personal questions, southerners would give them a smile but no answer. We chalked it up to bad manners. Each geographical group of people have their own customs. I think much could be learned from the southern culture.
The term Baptist seems to leave the world today with a vision of a gun toting, bun wearing, Bible in hand, extremists. Not so. Baptists are some of the most loving, fun to be with people on earth. Our staunch belief in the Word of God makes us seem unbendable and thus backward to the ways of the world. We do believe the Bible is the Word of God given to man through the inspiration of the Holy Spirit. We do not bend on that.
I grew up, along with my brother George and 3 other siblings, in a family of folks who attended church and some who never darkened the door of a church. Our relations were some of the most colorful characters you would ever meet. There were barbers, sheriffs, tailors, farmers, mailmen and an army of strong opinionated women. I'll tell you about these wonderful people sometime.
I have just found an outlet for some of these stories in writing along with George 'The World's First Ever Baptist Crime Novel'. It was fun and has probably started me on the road to another novel.
I am a geezer and live in the small southern town of LaGrange, GA with my husband Dave, who is a transplanted Yankee from Ohio. It's been a wild ride for the last 17 years we have been married, but I wouldn't change a thing. Except for..... well, I'll save that for another post.
I am thinking of renaming my blog. Any suggestions?
Ginny
Friday, March 27, 2009
The World's First Ever Baptist Crime Novel is now available.
To order go to this website. http://www.iuniverse.com/Bookstore/BookDetail.aspx?BookId=SKU-000124658
My brother, George Breed, and I are co-authors. Cathy Gazda designed the marvelous cover art.
Here is a synopsis:
"The familiar rhythms of this little church community in this sleepy southern town are thrown into chaotic disarray when their preacher, the Reverend Milton T. Bagston, takes a dive in more ways than one. Folk are jolted out of spiritual sleep, forced by circumstances to accept the aid of the disreputable: Luther Huckleberry and his sister Millie, spiritual criminologist Viola Trumpett, and Creek shaman Henry Wide Bear in saving their church from physical and spiritual ruin."
To order go to this website. http://www.iuniverse.com/Bookstore/BookDetail.aspx?BookId=SKU-000124658
My brother, George Breed, and I are co-authors. Cathy Gazda designed the marvelous cover art.
Here is a synopsis:
"The familiar rhythms of this little church community in this sleepy southern town are thrown into chaotic disarray when their preacher, the Reverend Milton T. Bagston, takes a dive in more ways than one. Folk are jolted out of spiritual sleep, forced by circumstances to accept the aid of the disreputable: Luther Huckleberry and his sister Millie, spiritual criminologist Viola Trumpett, and Creek shaman Henry Wide Bear in saving their church from physical and spiritual ruin."
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