The Kentucky Thanksgiving
20 hours. 1243 miles. Florida. Alabama. Tennessee. Kentucky.
Paintsville, our Thanksgiving
destination. Nestled in the far
eastern portion of the basketball-frenzied state, this town is home to some of
the sweetest, generous, most stubborn folks I’ve met. Meet Grandma Chris, the
leader of the pack. She’s a Southern belle with a Conley fight, and boy is she
saucy! After a lovely Thanksgiving meal, with all the fixings of a Mays/Schend
feast, I was feeling 100% at home. The only thing missing was the fiery spunk
of my redheaded family, but I quickly found solace in my new Grandma. We
ventured over to her house following dinner, and the boys took her by surprise.
Not weird. Jeremy unveiled the Desert Eagle, and handed over the dense piece of
metal to their unsuspecting Grama. I wasn’t kidding about the “gun thing” when
it comes to these boys. Goodness. Her facial expression says it all. This family
keeps getting better by the second. And Aunt Kim? Yeah, she’s rad too. A
redhead who’s got just as much kick. I love my people! Our first Thanksgiving
was perfect and completely worth every mile, minute, and penny.
Oh, and Black Friday in Paintsvile? Nothing like anything I've ever seen before. Pure insanity.
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