mt. marcy

Caylan and I shared our first Thanksgiving together on the North Shore of Lake Superior, where his grandparents own a cabin. Caylan drove the entire way there (6 hrs) while I studied. This was my first time to meet his grandparents and extended family and I liked them. Grandmother Larson is 100% French, but she talks like a midwestern-Swede. I decided everything I said or did surprised her because every sentence of hers began with, "Oh!" . . . "Oooh, you like cream in your coffee?" "Oooh, you want to go swimming." "Ooh, you're from North Carolina." The best was when 12 Larsons asked me what my last name was. Faircloth. What? Fair-cloth. Say that again. Fair. Cloth. One more time. F as in frank-a-i-r-c-l-o-t-h. All together now, "OoooHhhh, Faircloth."

After Thanksgiving dinner I partook in the Larson family tradition of jumping in Lake Superior. It was a frigid 40 degrees and I was the first to jump in. I knew if I saw someone jump in and look cold that there is no way I could follow. I got big Larson bonus points for going first.

After Thanksgiving we went to Minneapolis, where Caylan's dad and step-mom live. (They could not make it to the North Shore this year). His sister who lives in Brooklyn was there with her boyfriend, as well as Caylan's two step sisters. We tried to get into Black Friday, but it really isn't any fun if you don't need a t.v.

Here are some pictures.

The Larsons


Jestful pose


Feeling stuffed as a turkey