Thanksgiving in the South
![Image](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimlcoE24M7pe7c9S7HyaNKUO8Mbca90-aKcZmUVx7SQ8vhldKSyKavcC-wTluPnrD0OEla2c1Hly4Drf1iOhTZY8z7S3USNMrAyoOJ9PG7kaXGVsZpfBzJaKIN3vH4zOB8nB7Ejw/s640/23826273_10214790782024025_3976166666510188198_o.jpg)
This year we made the 5 1/2 hour trek to the motherland where I grew up for Thanksgiving with the family, namely Mitchell County, in the Southwest corner of Georgia - a place where everything moves a bit slower and your choices for going out to eat are a bit slimmer. A place where when a car goes by, if you don't wave it raises suspicions. My brother and his wife have a beautiful piece of land with a lake, two hogs, potbelly pigs, horses, miniature donkeys, goats, chickens and more chickens, six dogs, and I think the current count in 9 cats, a squirrel, and a rabbit. They both have a heart for animals and keep taking in the strays and giving them a loving home. It's the kind of place where you stoke a fire in the burn barrel and watch the stars come out while the frogs croak, the crickets chirp, and the fish splash in the dark. We head down to a local restaurant of Thanksgiving dinner. When we arrive the parking lot is already packed with four wheel drive pickups and a l