All posts by Rivergirl

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Mini hurricane? Go antique shopping…

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After showering off the sand from our beach walk and spraying my second hairdo of the day in place, I planned on spending the day at the resort since no one in their right mind goes out during a bad storm.

No one but my husband who refuses to waste a vacation day that is.

Here’s a little glimpse of the neighborhood right beyond our door. In the rain…

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As we headed over the bridge from Edisto, the sky did not look promising.

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But my husband was determined in his quest.

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Antiquing for my man is like the U.S. postal service…. Neither snow, nor rain, nor heat, nor gloom of night will keep him from shopping for crap.

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I told him he could only buy what would fit in his suitcase. Thankfully this did not.

As usual I saw some ridiculous things…

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Fur trimmed sleigh?

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Ah, the vomit clock.

A time honored treasure.

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Its little demon hand beckoned…

But I ran for my life.

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The husband has a weird obsession with vintage wooden advertising yard sticks and was bound and determined to come home with these… even though I assured him they wouldn’t fit in his bag.

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Southern self help book.

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7 sticks of butter? This makes a wonderful last meal before your arteries snap shut and your heart gives out.

We wandered around the store until the storm got bad enough that the owner wanted to close. Husband bought his yardsticks and a few other small items including this….

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No, he doesn’t cook. But it definitely qualified as quirky.

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In particular this recipe – which was so wrong, it was right.

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My only purchase requires a bit of explanation.

Last Christmas our state lottery ran a commercial about the joys of regifting. (Don’t roll your eyes, we’ve all done it.) The ad was a huge hit… funny and heartwarming and everyone loved it.

Take a look.

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So when I turned the final corner of the store and saw this sitting on a shelf?

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I knew it was $8 well spent and couldn’t wait to see my girlfriend’s face when she opened her gift.

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Store closing around us and bad weather moving in, my husband wanted to go out to lunch. Not surprisingly everything was closed because, ya know… mini hurricane.

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Lunch was at Hardees. And I use the word lunch loosely because whatever that sandwich was it didn’t resemble food as I know it. 🤢

When I finally dragged the other half back to the resort, the pelicans were turned to the wind ready to ride out the storm.

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It’s hard to tell, but the wind was really howling. Watch the palm tree in between the buildings on the upper left.

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The afternoon and evening of Vacation Day 4 was spent playing gin rummy (with a deck that had all 4 jacks)…

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And eating a box of this…

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Which I’d never seen before… but heartily enjoyed. Beer + cheese + pasta = happiness.

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Winds were 65 mph.

It was a long noisy night….

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Pre storm morning beach walk… part two.

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You could feel the drop in barometric pressure, the storm was moving in.

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But we walked.

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With me lamenting the fact that we flew instead of drove to SC because there were some shells worthy of collecting.

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So many shells…

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And the starfish!

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Man, they were everywhere.

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And much larger than what we have in Maine.

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The farther we walked from the resort, the darker it got.

Naturally my husband found the only other person on the entire beach and started a conversation as it began to rain.

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She was collecting dead starfish.

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But as much as I love beach strolling, I don’t love doing it in a downpour so we ran back to the condo.

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Not soon enough judging by my hair.

🥴

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News you can’t use.

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Trust me, you really can’t.

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Please tell me there was a model involved. The thought of disembodied pubic hair strutting down the runway in stilettos is simply too much.

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Gas station heroin?

In my day that used to be Cheetos.

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It seems I owe Lord Dudley Mountcatten a thank you tuna.

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If it’s not safe for work it’s probably perfect for this post.

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Or not.

I admit I’m so out of touch I had to look up fleshlight. My advice? Don’t.

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Send the animated pig brain to Washington. I think they’re a few short…

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Pre storm morning beach walk…

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Not wanting to waste any precious time on our week long vacation, day four threw a monkey wrench in my carefully planned trip.

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We woke to overcast skies, an egret in the pond and a forecast of what turned out to be a mini hurricane. Heavy rain, high winds and dangerous surf are not prime beach resort conditions.

And if that wasn’t bad enough, I burned breakfast. Again…. due to the stupid flat surface stove that had two burners in one.

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High level heat if you turned right, high level heat if you turned left. This proved too much for my under caffeinated morning brain to handle and henceforth, the husband was on his own when it came to eggs.

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But at least the dish sponge was happy.

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Not having walked the beach since we got there, I forced my spouse onto the sand before the storm arrived. That’s his arm to the right of the photo, pointing out which unit was ours. I’m not sure why as we had just exited it and I was unlikely to forget that quickly.

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My husband is not a beach guy, not an idle walker. He needs a destination and purpose…

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I told him pleasing his wife of 40 years should be motivation enough.

😉

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We had the beach to ourselves, but it was cool, dark, damp and hellaciously windy.

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As proved by my epic hairspray fail.

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On the far right side…

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The marina.

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In between?

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Lots of marvelous shore birds.

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Even my husband likes to watch those.

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It’s hard not to smile.

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And then there was snow.

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We haven’t had a lot of snow this year.

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Or last year or the year before that unfortunately … so when the pretty white fluffy stuff does fall and stick?

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I wake up early to photograph it in that lovely pinkish blue morning light.

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And while I do enjoy it…

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Our contractor who still has to replace the siding from the bedroom window replacement does not.

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Can’t say I blame him.

🥴

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Windy beaches, selfies and fake stars.

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After discovering the lighthouse we’d come to see was closed, we decided to walk the Hunting Island beach instead.

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Following the rubber highway across the dunes we hit the sand and were just about blown away.

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I packed for the south, where it’s supposed to be warm…. and I swear the week we spent in South Carolina was colder than Maine.

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The beach was lovely.

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But to be honest it was too cold and windy to enjoy.

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The husband was less than thrilled to be walking in arctic wind, but I persevered.

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For a little while anyway.

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You know it’s windy when the sea foam is bouncing down the sand.

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We left before frostbite set in and continued on.

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Past a shrimping fleet and towards Fripp Island which we were told was lovely.

It might have been, but we’ll never know because it’s a gated private island where we were told to turn around and leave in no uncertain terms.

Didn’t they realize the rental vehicle we were driving cost $100k? That should have counted for something.

I mean really… it had a dashboard star display.

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What more could they want?

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In with the new… and a disturbing foamy bonus.

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When last I left the bedroom picture window saga, the old had been removed and the new was on its way.

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Carefully, across the ice covered snow.

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This baby was heavy, and awkward to lift as there’s really no place to grab.

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You knew it wouldn’t be easy, right?

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Did I mention it was about 12 degrees that day?

Good times.

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Hallelujah, it was in.

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Secured, insulated and awaiting new trim and sills.

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And speaking of insulation..

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Sometimes the spray foam has a mind of its own.

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A rather disturbing mind as it turns out.

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Or maybe that’s just me.

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Where we go to Hunting Island but don’t hunt.

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We’d heard quite a few locals mention Hunting Island lighthouse (which is the only lighthouse in South Carolina open to the public) and since we were in the area, we decided to check it out.

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Paying the unexpected entry fee at the gate, we drove down the twisting, turning road.

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It felt a bit like the forest primeval with dense vegetation and palms lining both sides.

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At the end there was a parking lot and our first glimpse of the lighthouse.

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The views of the Sea Islands were supposed to be great from the top and I was anxious to climb.

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We approached…

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Entered the gated area….

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Took the required wind blown selfie…

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And after climbing the entry steps to the door… read the sign saying it was closed.

Of course it was.

Thank you Mr. Gatekeeper for taking our money but not sharing that fact. Grr. 😡

Was it worth the $20? Sure.

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See there? That used to be the light keeper’s house.

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And my husband found a fascinating rail contraption used to move the lamp oil.

Totally worth it.

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🥴

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And the search goes on… and on, and on, and not surprisingly, on.

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Furniture? Check.

Fabric pattern for chair, ottoman and pillows ? A possible check.

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Flooring? Check.

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Solid fabric for sofas? A box we can’t seem to check.

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An interior designer I spoke with said I was going about this all wrong because a room should be built around the rug. Not willing to start over but interested to see if finding the perfect rug could help…

I grabbed a girlfriend and shopped.

It was not at all helpful.

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I wanted to draw in some more color. Do you see much color in the showroom above?

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Yes, some of them blended with the fabrics.

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Some of them quite nicely.

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But they were just an extension of the same palette.

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And while I liked a few of them …

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Nothing screamed take me home.

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So solid fabric searching continued.

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Fruitlessly.

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Blah, blah, blah.

Having such a terrible time with that blue pattern I tentatively chose another.

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Two blues, yes. But at least there’s rust, burgundy brown and cream mixed in.

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Here’s how the pattern will look.

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Though the color isn’t right on their app.

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Why is this so hard?

😩