Just returned from the southern-more states where we stayed with Teresa’s parents in Lillian, Alabama. It’s about a sneeze and a Cam Newton first-down lunge away from Pensacola, Florida. It was the feasting holiday, and a day to be thankful for things like a close family, a crowded house, and plates piled high with food.
Sleeping arrangements consisted of multiple pull-out couches, an inflatable bed, and a chilly camper with a space heater. One common room housed most sleepers, and I’m sure people are headed back to their lives with tales of snoring and dogs walking around at night wearing tap shoes.
The days were full of cooking, and forays into Pensacola for important things like whipped cream (that was forgotten), pickled jalapeno peppers, bacon, sausage, and even frozen biscuits that ushered in a new era in the traditional Davis family breakfast of biscuits and gravy. They weren’t the best at sopping, though. There were several different varieties so we may need to experiment before we find the perfect kind.
Diets were put on temporary hiatus as the war between fridge space and leftovers tempted everyone to consume, and consume often (especially when it came to desserts). It didn’t help, though, because two more pumpkin pies were crafted the next day. One disappeared very quickly.
One afternoon was spent looking for a wandering Harley, who had snuck out a screened doorway while the cooks were trying to air out some of the cooking heat from the kitchen. Harley’s wandering is nothing new, but is rather tiresome. Multiple trips around the community were fruitless, despite a sighting by security. I even stopped and asked people if they had seen him. A family had sheltered him, and on my ‘one last time’ around the block they flagged me down.
Larry sacrificed his TV and his recliner for two days in a row as football reigned with the NFL on Turkey Day, and the Iron Bowl on Black Friday. The kids mostly had their noses in the screens, with the XBox 360 and several laptops around, but there were outside forays. The previously mentioned bike rides, and the grand-daughters played outside constantly.
The troops dwindled slowly. The girls left for home on Friday, and on Saturday the elder Stanton’s, along with Dean, Kyle, Julie and Ethan all headed home. Saturday afternoon was a quiet day, and a stop at a wing joint and pizza place supplied the evening meal; a much-deserved relief from cooking.
Sunday was our turn to head home, and through timely use of technology we were able to avoid two large traffic jams along the way, getting home with plenty of time to go and discuss our holidays with Chris and Veronica across the street.