thanksgiving

One thing that Zan's family and my family have in common: the men are the chefs. In Georgia, my cousin John fries the turkey for Thanksgiving every year. He injects a cajun seasoning into the old bird, and man oh man, it's crispy and juicy and has a kick to it, and I look forward to it all year. My brother makes the pies, a turducken, and last year a ham, too. In Zan's family, he and his brother can seriously cook. Zan grills better than anyone I've ever met, and Ben commands a kitchen. I've had little tastes here and there of Ben's cooking, but for Thanksgiving, I got the full treatment. He and Zan's sister-in-law hosted Thanksgiving at their newly purchased house in Petworth, and I couldn't stop swooning over Katie's eye for decorating and Ben's food.

My mom was up here this year, too, and she was so nervous about meeting Zan's family for the first time. I was nervous leading up to her visit, but the day of Thanksgiving, I wasn't at all. My mom has this gigantic personality and outrageous sense of humor. When she's at her best, she is a riot and at her worst, downright lovable. It's hard not to like my mom. Zan's family seemed to completely agree, and the mixing and mingling of families was a success.

I'm so grateful I got to bring my mom into the folds of my life, show her where I live, and introduce her to a family that feels like my second. It was a good one, this Thanksgiving.