We met my parents in French Camp, Mississippi (population 300ish) about 90 miles north of Jackson on the Natchez Trace. My dad and his sister still own the property where they grew up. (No one lives there now. Decades ago the original house was replaced by a smaller one, which was recently remodeled to accommodate occasional get-aways, family reunions, etc.) There is no cell coverage, no Internet, no tv. (Perfect! Sorry Erik.) There is: a great big porch around the entire house with 4 porch swings, several rocking chairs, and a hammock; a big yard with lots of old pecan trees (no nuts this year, unfortunately); a great swing for the kids (hung by my dad this weekend); and neighbors and family who drop by if they see that someone's home. All the following pictures were taken on Thanksgiving Day, with the exception of the last one, which was Saturday morning.
A great big porch with a little house in the middle.
Reading some Thanksgiving history.
Nothing like a little fresh air and exercise to work up an appetite.
My mom and I searched in vain for pecans but did find a few fallen branches covered with great moss and ferns which we incorporated into an impromptu table decoration.
The swing-pushers and leaf-rakers take a break.
The weather was so mild we ate on the porch. Our streamlined and partly make-ahead menu (we still had all the classic dishes) and our cute paper plates made for a really easy meal. More relaxation than work for the cooks! (Ignore that laptop in the background. Unfortunately they do have electricity in French Camp...)
My cousin Monica and her husband and kids stopped by for a visit.
Kayla, Caleb, Kate, Boston, Nate, Meg, Abby
A few hunters were camping across the ditch at the end of the yard. Saturday morning we looked out to see them dressing a deer. You can just see the deer hanging between the two guys on the left. You can see Nate (light blue shirt) and Meg (to his right) and my Dad (to his left) walking over to watch. After I took this picture I went over, too, and so did Erik and Kate. It was really interesting. If you have a weak stomach or a membership to PETA, you may want to stop reading here. :) They skinned the lower portion (or would that be upper, since it was hanging upside down...) and cut off chunks of meat, throwing them into a cooler of ice water. Then they worked down toward the stomach. They had a separate cooler for the guts, and they tossed a few organs to the dog chained up near by. We didn't stay to watch the whole thing, but in another cooler they had the head (w/ antlers) of a second deer they had cleaned earlier. Kate's take on it was "Eww gross." I asked Nate what he thought and he said, "It looks pretty cool." (I forgot to ask Meg for her thoughts.) Sorry if this has ruined my lovely holiday post for anyone, but hey, what's a trip to Mississippi without a little deer hunting. 
A few hunters were camping across the ditch at the end of the yard. Saturday morning we looked out to see them dressing a deer. You can just see the deer hanging between the two guys on the left. You can see Nate (light blue shirt) and Meg (to his right) and my Dad (to his left) walking over to watch. After I took this picture I went over, too, and so did Erik and Kate. It was really interesting. If you have a weak stomach or a membership to PETA, you may want to stop reading here. :) They skinned the lower portion (or would that be upper, since it was hanging upside down...) and cut off chunks of meat, throwing them into a cooler of ice water. Then they worked down toward the stomach. They had a separate cooler for the guts, and they tossed a few organs to the dog chained up near by. We didn't stay to watch the whole thing, but in another cooler they had the head (w/ antlers) of a second deer they had cleaned earlier. Kate's take on it was "Eww gross." I asked Nate what he thought and he said, "It looks pretty cool." (I forgot to ask Meg for her thoughts.) Sorry if this has ruined my lovely holiday post for anyone, but hey, what's a trip to Mississippi without a little deer hunting.
Besides, what do you think the Pilgrims ate at the first Thanksgiving, anyway?!
p.s. For days before we left we all kept trying to explain to Kate that Mississippi was a place we were going and not a person we were visiting. When we got home I asked her if she had fun in Mississippi. She said, "Yes, but Mrs. Sippi was not there."
