Over the River and Through the Woods

How is it even possible that it's now December? There is snow on the ground already, in places that generally receive snow (my house not being one of them), and a whole season has passed by without me having told you about my last trip to Grandmother's house.

It was lovely, as it usually is. And my Grandmother was wonderful, as she always is. Also present were an Aunt, two Uncles and some Cousins and a couple of Cousins' Chillun's. And one beige Ford Ranger pickup, AKA, the automacchina love of my college life and quintessential tool for enjoyable driving of backwoods country roads.

I took a red-eye, overnight flight to Grandmother's. And after not sleeping for nearly 30 hours, I arrived, exhausted, at the farm. I'm always exhausted when I get to the farm. And it always lets me rest. It's really lovely. I sleep long nights, ten-twelve hour nights away happily in that place.

Grandma's Farm

But, upon arrival that the farm, directly from the airport and much sleeplessness, after receiving copious hugs and kisses, what should Grandma ask but "Do you want to go to North Carolina?"

Ummmmmm... Was that a trick question?

Really?

Yes, she was serious.

You see, my cute Grandmother is now 80 and she isn't the steadiest of drivers. Also, I have a couple of Uncles that live in North Carolina and she likes to go and see them. And she wanted to take a pot to one of them. Yes. A POT. As in kettle, black. No, really, it was a giant black kettle.

I convinced her to let me sleep away the afternoon and evening and then, bright and early the next morning we set off for Grandy, North Carolina to deliver that pot to my Crazy (and toothless) Uncle Thomas. And my cousin Anna even came along for the ride. Because really, what else is there to do in the country?

I have redneck relatives. I'm rather proud of it.

Five hours later we were back home and I went back to sleep.