We loaded up the family and headed south to visit family for Thanksgiving.
They live in the Low Country of South Carolina.
It's a beautiful place with swoony Live Oaks and Spanish Moss that nearly slays me in two.
It's also home to a population of people who are related to us by blood and adoption who hug our necks and make us feel welcome.
This soybean field is situated among the family owned property that we call Papa's house.
It looked a little tired and dried out to me, but I was assured otherwise.
On the way down we passed a half zillion cotton fields bulging with white blossoms that practically begged me to pull over and photograph them. The Mister obviously could not hear their cries and refused to pull over.
Occasionally, he's a drag.
We spent the day riding a golf cart around the property spying things we don't see in our neck of the woods.
After we'd had our fill of hugs and turkey, we hugged the same necks all over again and skipped our way back home (you know, in the car).
God is good, all the time!