Writing about Cathy’s visit made me remember when we’d first moved down to New Orleans and Ali was still a completely brash little Jersey Girl in the making.

Alison was headed into middle school, and really looking forward to starting, but I watched her spirits dip a little lower each day that she failed to really click with new friends. A few weeks into the term, she came home looking positively perplexed.

“Mom,” she said, shaking her head, “I don’t get it. These girls? They were really nice to me when I took the school tour, and now they just shut up whenever I get close. So today I walked up to the group and asked if I’d done anything wrong- why weren’t they talking to me?” She shook her head when I asked what they’d answered. “They just got really upset, and kind of stuttered and stuff. One of them finally said ‘That’s what you did! We don’t say things like that! You’re so weird!’”

Over time, Ali figured out how to navigate the strange currents between Mason and Dixon, though I’d never seen the changes so much as when her friends came together and needed Alison to act as their cultural translator.

It made me realize she’s become a sort of southern belle with balls- not a bad thing to be. Well mannered, polite, but still able to kick your ass.