“Reckon’” has become a part of my vocab since I started dating a country gal.
“Allow” is another one where the context had me scratching my head. Person A talks with person B than afterwords person A tells person C what Person B said.
Person C replies to person A, “What did you allow”?...meaning what was your reply to person B?
Yonder is another favorite in that family and has great variance in distance.
I find it amazing that so many who have never swiped an egg from under a hen nor picked a tomato nor scrambled in the fresh-plowed earth picking up potatoes as we did in our youth feel smugly 'superior' to those who feed them. They've never built an engine, sculled a skiff, skinned their own dinner, nor shot nor caught it, but somehow their microcosmic existence in an artificial construct qualifies them to tell us how to live in an environment completely alien to them.
While I would miss the archives of artifacts and classical artwork such cities offer, I know people who can render an image on canvas, play a passable tune--admittedly not of symphonic quality--but adequate for my limited dancing skills (Mrs. Joe is a saint!), and the local High Schools provide sporting events which make up for what they lack in prestige and fanfare with enthusiasm and lack of gross expense.
One thing about rural living, if you did not grow up there, you quickly learn to discern between your 'wants' and your 'needs', and if somewhere in the mix the urbane find our colloquialisms archaic, so be it. At least we can all tell who's who in the first words of a conversation.
And I didn't even say "victuals" (pronounced "vittles" for the uninitiated)!
"Holler" (hollow) is another favorite of mine, used from the tidewater to the Blue Ridge and beyond, and 'up yonder holler', could mean a location reached by some hike between ridges or rowing in the shallows on a favorable tide, depending on where you were. They can keep their highfalutin' citified ways, I prefer good banjo music to hip-hop anyway.