We stroll around on our porches while talking just like we stroll down the street. As we go, we pick at the ferns. We pick off the dead fronds cause they look ughly and if we are flirting–we pick off the swirls at the end of unopened fronds. It’s a bit barbaric but it’s what we Southern women do with our hands or otherwise we wave them about nervously.
We talk with our hands and they have to be doing something. So we fiddle with the ferns. They make us look lovely and since ferns require grooming–we are masters at it.
I debated on buying a fern today. It’s almost sacrilegious not to get one if you live in the South. We’ve got these big front porches and they just look better with a boston or kimberly fern hanging from the porch beam.
We do lots of porch sitting and that is where decisions are made—- about things from getting married to adding an addition to the house. Most important family decisions are made on the porch and the ferns hear it all.
We tease that porches with really big ferns must have the most gossip. They do look so pretty. I may have to break down and get a few for my house. I don’t want people to be gossiping that I don’t have one.