There was a time in our history when Thanksgiving meant sitting around the table, eating dinner with family and talking about Christmas. That kind of evolved into something else with a history/job change (in the near future, 2003), but in 1999, it was still wholesome.
My grandparents moved away from the Upper Peninsula when they realized that it had become an inconvenience to live hundreds of miles from medical facilities. They traveled to many other places in exploration and my mom and dad often went with them helping to lead the expeditions. They decided to relocate to Holly Pond, Alabama. After many renovations that my dad and Grandpa had performed on the house, it was a quaint place for them to nest.
Alabama was moderate in climate, there were hospitals nearby, and the winters included none of the white fluffy stuff, or just a fluff that would disappear after a couple hours of the temps rising. The home they settled in still allowed for their privacy, set on a paved road but neighbors were still distant enough. In ninety-nine, we decided to take our kids to Holly Pond to visit and spend Thanksgiving. At the time I was working in a Cytology lab in Detroit, the midnight or "gravy" shift as some called it. I arrived home, got a few hours of sleep, and we loaded the Suburban with our travel gear and how could I forget, the monster turkey.
My cousin Tony was a farmer, he grew a large garden, raised farm animals, pigs, cows, turkeys and chickens. His family members always got first dibs on the turkey. The turkey he gave us weighed in, prepped and ready to bake, at forty two pounds, it barely fit in a cooler we had to transport it in. It was massive and my grandma didn't know whether it would fit in her oven. Here's me holding the heart of the turkey and the gizzards, I know, right, I just couldn't let go of my long locks, and look at the size of those organs!
We entered Alabama where the highways were clean, the grass along them tidy and liter free, and the state a beckoning beauty, we instantly saw what my grandparents had fallen in love with. The dirt in Alabama was red, yes, red. I had heard of the "red" dirt being a delicatessen to some, at the time I believed it was an Urban legend, where people ate that "red" dirt, no I didn't attempt it myself. I heard it from someone I worked with at the lab, so maybe someone was messing with my overactive imagination, hindsight tells me they were, I've heard more bizarre legends in my life.
We planned a four day weekend around the adventure because I wanted to spend time with my grandma and grandpa to see how they were adjusted and to check out the area, which Maria and I had the pleasure to do the summer prior. My Grandma whizzed around the kitchen making pumpkin pie, showing me the ropes, which I never really put into practice, and we calculated when the turkey should go into the oven, after testing it, and nearly having to remove every oven rack to get it to fit. It had been a great Thanksgiving trip where the visit felt truly like it should have, and we like to think our children took the same away with them.
We planned a four day weekend around the adventure because I wanted to spend time with my grandma and grandpa to see how they were adjusted and to check out the area, which Maria and I had the pleasure to do the summer prior. My Grandma whizzed around the kitchen making pumpkin pie, showing me the ropes, which I never really put into practice, and we calculated when the turkey should go into the oven, after testing it, and nearly having to remove every oven rack to get it to fit. It had been a great Thanksgiving trip where the visit felt truly like it should have, and we like to think our children took the same away with them.
We talked my grandma into going to a beautiful place, near Holly Pond, in Cullman. She wasn't an outspoken religious person, and I, three years prior, converting to Catholicism, was excited to go. It was called Ave Maria Grotto. A quaint place sprawled over four acres of hilly Alabama land. It was known as the "Little Jerusalem" and was created by Father Joseph Zoettl. The detail in this gracious Grotto immersed me and everyone into it's beauty and grace. This man had recreated something that only imagination could muster and was amazing. I'm including pictures, which do not give near the immersion of seeing it in person. It was one of many holiday's to be thankful for.
Dark Nest Travel now has video, remember to click on YouTube link in the closing paragraph, and view our very first, yes, very first, Introduction Video, with a lot more to come!
Thanks for reading about our lives. Don't forget to subscribe to Dark Nest Travels on YouTube and follow us on Instagram at: darknesttravels. Thanks for stopping by and keeping up to date on our life, in its genesis and the unfolding path that is just ahead.