Thanksgiving ReCap

Thanksgiving was so busy that it passed by without me having a chance to blog about it. This year was interesting, and therefore, merits a blog post. Thanksgiving 2010 was split between the Hornbuckles of Gadsden and the Swanzys of Mobile (a by-product of JT and I's marriage last May). The Hornbuckles opted to spend the holiday at their condo in Foley, AL., which made it easier driving back and forth from Mobile. The Hornbuckles are meticulous planners; needless to say, their Thanksgiving went off without a hitch. The Swanzy Thanksgiving, on the other hand, was an entirely different matter.

Many outside observers have claimed that the Swanzys would be perfect candidates for a reality show. What I am about to relate to you will serve as one of the many reasons why people have made that same statement...

The Swanzy family as I see it is compiled of these people: the Kennedys (Mandy, Kevin, Caitlin, and Montgomery), MawMaw (Judy Montgomery), Grandmama (Louise Tew), and the actual Swanzys (Mark, Debra, Whitney, and Hunter along with Clay, Dianne, Michael, Melissa, and Mimi). Not a large number of people to be sure; but big things (i.e., personalities, opinions, tempers, egos, etc.) come in small packages. However, over the years, we have adopted people into our fold. The number of adopted people closely rivals the number of animals that have been adopted by our family. {Side note: Grandmama always says, "I don't believe in reincarnation; but if I did, I'd want to come back as a pet in the Swanzy household."} Just sayin'.

So...the annual holiday adoptions for 2010 went like this: Adoptee #1 is named Howard Byrd. He has been a part of my family for years; as long as I can remember actually. Here's the kicker. Byrd (as we call him) is 80-something-years-old, works at DWBC with my MawMaw, is somewhat mentally handicapped (slow is the nice way of putting it), and loves the Alabama Crimson Tide with all of his being. In fact, I'm not sure he owns a hat or a t-shirt unrelated to Alabama football. Oh! I forgot to mention that Byrd is a little "hands-y" with the ladies. Be extra careful when you go in for that hug. Adoptee #2 is an amazing man named Gerald. My grandmother befriended him through her homeless ministry in downtown Mobile. She helped get him off the street a couple of months ago; he comes to church; and before we knew it, she invited him to Thanksgiving. Long story short, MawMaw can be credited with BOTH of our family's people adoptions. (If you knew her, this story would seem a whole lot more strange and uncharacteristically compassionate...love you, MawMaw.)

By the time Thanksgiving day arrived, we had a total of 22 people scheduled to dine at the Swanzy house at 5 o'clock that evening. Our house was crowded, but not overly so. It was filled with laughter and idle chitchat. We are a social bunch after all. As a matter of fact, we socialized to the extent that the task of cooking for the hungry multitudes was momentarily forgotten. We were snapped out of our revelry and into reality by the sound of the smoke alarm. My mom and her sister Mandy rushed to the oven and pulled the door open. Out rushed billows of smoke; we all just stared at the oven and waited for the smoke to clear. Everyone wanted to see if it was their favorite Thanksgiving dish that had gotten ruined. When the smoke cleared, mom put on her oven mitts and pulled a flaming sweet potato casserole from the blazing hot oven. For those of you who do not cook, sweet potato casserole is NOT one of the recipes that you flambe (or serve with a flame on top). It's not a French food; it's Southern. And, Southerners like their sweet potato casserole un-charred. After viewing the blackened, burnt crust of a casserole, my brother Hunter yells out: "Great, my Thanksgiving is ruined!" Poor thing...It was his favorite Thanksgiving delicacy that had been burned beyond recognition.

To make matters worse, the cornbread dressing also fell prey to the Thanksgiving cuisine curse (Remember, I had killed an Italian Creme Cake the day before). It too saw its own ruination. Instead of being moist and spongy, it was a soupy mess. Once this disaster was discovered, others made the same claim as my brother had: "Thanksgiving is ruined!" Truth be told, our holiday was far from ruined; but if you have spent any time around a member of the Swanzy family, you will know that we are prone to brief hysterics and possess the unique ability to exaggerate or dramatize just about anything to the fullest extent. Thanksgiving festivities were no exception.

The night went on; we ate very well; we talked for hours. In short, we had a fabulous time in our own way with our new family members and adopted friends. I remember looking around our kitchen at all the smiling faces, listening in on all the loud conversations, and feeling the happiness around me and thinking: I am truly blessed; I have so much to be thankful for. And, right there in the noisy, crowded kitchen, I stopped and gave a silent prayer of thanks to God.

- W:)