Foie Gras & Flannel

I’m going to start profiling a few of the people I visit with on my trip—some family, some friends, and some, complete strangers.

This is my mom–you can call her Jane.

The lake in the background is Caddo Lake, home to the world’s largest cypress grove, to America’s first above-water oil well, and—reportedly—to Bigfoot. It was also my home until I was about five. Mom and I stopped by on our way to visit my grandparents late last week.

Another lake:

That’s where Mom lives. Well, technically she lives around the corner from here, on a couple of wooded acres. Nestled next to a quiet little creek. With four cats and two goats. Next door to her ex-husband (funny story).

One of the goats:

Mom taught me how to make an apple pie. To date, she makes the only potato salad that I’ll eat. She used to make a mean brisket, but now denies that ever happened (my sister backs me up).

She’s also helped to forge my appreciation for good barbecue, and may have just inspired another crawfish boil with her suggestion of adding brussels sprouts and mushrooms to the veggies in the broth.

Good to see you, Mom. I love you.

I love this city—more and more with each visit.

I’m back in the South.

It feels good to be here. I mean, it’s humid, and I’m freaking out over the lack of reception (or internet), but the people here are always welcoming, and the scenery is familiar. Plus, I miss my family–I really don’t visit often enough.

That’s my niece (and that’s her with my mom up above). She was the catalyst for my trip.

Okay, maybe the divorce was the catalyst, but Mary Anna is the reason I’m starting in Louisiana. Her christening on Sunday brought most of my immediate family together.

Of course, none of us are Catholic. I bet it’s been 15 years since I’ve attended mass, but there we were, in our Sunday best–my Episcopal and Methodist parents, and me.

Just as service is starting, my mom turns to me and whispers, “You ready to do some partying?”

After church, we partied.

This afternoon I head back to Louisiana to visit two sets of grandparents, then load into a car bound for North Carolina in the morning. I’ll post pics from NOLA before I leave.

It’s lunchtime. I’m hungover. And I’m in the backseat of a Bay-bound car, listening to a road mix that includes Ke$sha and Elton John. This is how my journey begins.

Rather, that’s how it began—that was Thursday. I’m now sitting in the San Jose airport, waiting on the next flight to New Orleans. For the next four weeks (maybe longer?), I’ll be traipsing around the south and up the east coast. The goal: to clear my head, spend time with family, and get lost in conversations.

I’ll share stories of some of the the people I meet here. Day-to-day interactions and experiences from the trip will be chronicled on Twitter and Instagram (@jamescollier).

Oh, and Fresno, I’ll be back in July. I think.

From yesterday’s stay at the Phoenix Hotel (view on Instagram)