I am a sneak

Around 8:00 last Saturday morning, I boarded a plane to Dallas. Once there, I transferred to a tiny Baton Rouge bound flight, ready to be collected by two cousins I'd never met. Aside from my drivers, my dad, and two other cousins, nobody new I was coming. An hour and a half after landing in Baton Rouge, we crossed into Adams County, Mississippi. Bound for the Magnolia Grill in Natchez, we crept through the parking lot undetected by the table full of my family inside. I caught my dad's eye from across the room and gave a quick wave, and tiptoed over behind my mom, who was seated with her back to me. She, along with most of the other dinner guests, had no idea I was coming. With no real game plan in place, I simply tapped her on the shoulder to announce my presence. True to form, she screamed bloody murder. I tried to calm her down, lest she get us kicked out of the restaurant before I'd had a chance to order dinner, but she carried on for quite a while.





I settled in for dinner, dessert, and visiting at a table surrounded by my mom, dad, cousin Barbara, cousin David Smith, aunt Carol, and uncle Steve. At the end of the table were my cousins Dottie and Kenny, who met me at the airport and drove me to Natchez. We were a boisterous group. With my unsweetened iced tea and my Mississippi mud cheesecake, I settled into my three-day weekend in my mom's hometown.



After dinner, most of us wandered over to Fat Mama's Tamales for me to wait for Sarah and her husband John. I am impatient and ordered myself a margarita, forgetting how strong they make them in Mississippi.



Sarah and John turned up a while later:



The older generation left, and us three kids sat on the back porch of Fat Mama's until they closed. We were joined by my cousin Laurie, who I hadn't seen in more than a decade. Once Fat Mama's kicked us out, we headed over to Bowie's Tavern to continue the evening. A few of Sarah and John's friends trickled in, and we chatted for quite a while about music. I talked endlessly about Melophobe, as I tend to do, and finally decided it was time to head back to my room at the Elms Bed and Breakfast. As Sarah and John dropped me off, a real live armadillo ran in front of the car! It was the first one I'd ever seen that wasn't dead on the side of the road. I got ready for bed in my lovely room with white, monogrammed linens, and noticed one small brown face towel. Only in Mississippi would a designated makeup towel be necessary:



The next morning, I woke up early for the breakfast that was included with my room at the Elms. Cooked by the owner, it involved fresh fruit, scrambled eggs, roasted potatoes, and the best hotcakes I'd ever eaten. Once it was over, my parents and aunt and uncle came to pick me up for the family reunion. I think my dad was happy to have another Yankee in the room.



I met many cousins for the first time, including the lady to the right of me and my parents here:



My mom gave a speech and a presentation about our ancestor Zachariah Smith:



Later that day, I made a special request to visit Longwood Plantation, where a good portion of True Blood season three was filmed last year. I showed my mom how to take a photo with my phone:



and ran over to pose in front of the door:





On the way back, we stopped at the local shake shack, where everyone else had a malt and I had a lime slushie.



We headed over to the Natchez Grand Hotel, where my parents were staying, so I could have a glass of wine and wait for my cousin Sam to turn up.



He was kind enough to join us for dinner at Biscuits and Blues, and I unfortunately didn't feel too well after overdosing on biscuits. I went back to the hotel to recuperate, and had a quiet rest of the evening.

On Monday, my last day in Natchez, we had breakfast at a plantation restaurant called the Castle before heading over to see Jennifer, Scott, and their new baby (whom I declined to hold). I had some errands to run involving several pounds of fudge from Darby's, as well as obtaining a necklace for my upcoming high school reunion. Once those tasks were complete, we headed over to a local deli for lunch before it was time for Dottie and Kenny to take me back to Baton Rouge.

The plane from Baton Rouge to Dallas was late, giving me less than 20 minutes to race across three terminals to catch my plane to Portland. I was one of the last people on the plane, but I made it home that night. It was a lovely visit to the south indeed.



Back in Portland, I learned that many of the places I visited are in danger of flooding. The Mississippi river is more than 10 feet above flood stage, and threatens several of my cousins' houses as well as the aforementioned Magnolia Grill. I worry about the town I recently re-embraced, which showed me nothing but tremendous hospitality in my last two visits, but I know it is populated by strong and resilient people, most of whom are related to me.