 Christmas is a special day for many of us. Before we were reduced to one post per year because (insert your favorite excuse here), we wrote about Christmas activities such as lights and The Polar Express, and of course the tree itself.
While the whole day and even the day before are meaningful, magic happens for children and parents alike on Christmas morning. The anticipation has built for days and weeks and it is time to find out if Santa came to our house. In the Sherard house as in yours, the children get up earlier than normal as the excitement reaches a fever pitch. There is only one rule - nobody goes downstairs until both Mom and Dad are awake. This allows Mom to be ready to see the joy that all of her hard work has created and Dad - well, Dad takes out his phone and after checking to see how his fantasy football team did last night (I’m leading in the semifinals of the playoffs with a 54% chance to win!!!) the video camera gets ready for action - poised to capture the Race to the Tree. Let’s break it down.
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 Now that the turkey has been consumed, it’s time to turn our attention to rivalry week. All across this great land, college football teams will take the field against the school they deem inferior to all other schools. College football is in our blood. The definitely less than 10 readers who have been with us since the beginning will recall Reid’s posts, “The Valley” and “The Trophy” about our specific rivalry, and Brandt’s posts, “I Love” and “I Love Continued.” And on "I'll hang up and listen" and on "The Preseason Top 25, hold the complaints"
The rivalry just hits different. While each rival game has its unique history and flair, the fans that fill each stadium share many similarities. Let Not My Boys guide you through the different types of college fans you may encounter in your section this weekend.  It is always tough to write about the loss of a loved one, and this will be no exception. I am sorry that my first blog post in more than two years has to begin so somber, but when I looked at the Caller ID on my phone on a recent Thursday and saw “Northeast Georgia,” I knew the person on the other end of the line was going to tell me the news that the end had come. Even when you know they will be in a better place, able to run free again after spending the last six months barely venturing out into the sunlight, it does not make it any easier. Of course, as you might have guessed, I’m talking about the sale of our recreational vehicle, Dusty Roads.
 For years, people of faith have journeyed from their homes to special places in the world. Jerusalem. Mecca. Camino de Santiago. Brunson Crossroads. Wait, Brunson Crossroads?
In South Carolina barbecue is a faith. And Brunson Crossroads is the home of Scott’s, a legend in the whole hog denomination.  It’s 3 a.m. and most people are in bed, providing their body the daily nourishment it needs from sleep. But somewhere, around the crackle of a carefully-built fire, there is someone preparing to provide your soul the nourishment it needs. That person is a pitmaster. These people have existed for generations, and have the unique ability to create something that truly unites...barbecue. A plate of smoked meat has the ability to bring people together regardless of race, socioeconomic status, religion or political affiliation, and provides a sense of true community. Something that has the powerful ability to unite like barbecue is not easily prepared. Long before you enjoy subtle nuances of smoke on your tongue, the pitmaster has been artfully manning a fire, adding a log at just the right time. They work so hard to provide us a place to gather, talk, share, laugh with people from all over our community.
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