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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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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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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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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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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?
😩
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After our horse drawn carriage tour of Beaufort…(did you say Byoo-fert like I taught you?)
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We strolled along the harbor for a spell.
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Then headed over the bridge to explore the Sea Islands.
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Since the husband was hungry we stopped for a late lunch. Not much was open this time of year but we found a spot on the marsh called Johnson Creek Tavern.
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It was an unassuming little place, and while I don’t know exactly what I was expecting…
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It definitely wasn’t this.
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Every square inch of the place was covered in money.
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Yes, as in real U.S. currency. Ones, fives and tens. Most had names or funny sayings written on the face.
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One bad margarita….
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Some run of the mill hushpuppies with, oh the horror, margarine …
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And a terrible bowl of gumbo later, we decided we wouldn’t be eating lunch here… but we did marvel at the decor and inquire about its origins.
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It started at the bar decades ago as these things do. The first dollar spent, a big tip, a foreign bill brought back from faraway lands. But then it grew…
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And grew and grew.
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Now… they harvest the bounty every so often and donate it all to charity. Last year a veterans group was the happy recipient of over $11,000.
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And that’s money well spent.
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The flamingo agrees.
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For the friends who are soured on love.
For the readers who gag at Hallmark movies.
For the people who want Cupid to shoot himself in the butt with that stupid little arrow.
The perfect loveless Valentines Day gift.
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You’re welcome.
And speaking of litter boxes?
A Valentine from your cat….
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If cat poop isn’t your thing and you’re looking for something a little more direct?
How about this…
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Nothing says I love you like targeted heart penetration.
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The Angus drawn carriage tour of Beaufort continued…
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Past Spanish moss and charming antebellum homes.
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You might recognize this tree if you’re a movie buff.
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It’s the live oak Robert Duvall sat under during The Great Santini. They filmed it in Beaufort as the author Pat Conroy is a native son.
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Beautiful homes, beautiful gardens…
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And some of the most amazing Angel Oaks I’ve ever seen.
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The Angel is the variety of live oak that droops it’s branches to the ground….
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And in Beaufort?
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The town is so enamored of their spreading glory it’s illegal to cut one down or even trim.
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Thank you Beaufort.
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I wholeheartedly agree.
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Our guided tour was a little over an hour of immersive history and I loved every cold, wrapped in a blanket, minute of it.
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There’s a strict building code near The Point that says new construction must blend with the old. I’m not sure lime green was a popular Civil War era color, but they’re charming all the same.
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I wish we’d had time to explore this museum.
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But when we disembarked the carriage a certain someone had to strike up a conversation with the guide.
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Hint- it wasn’t me.
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Though I did enjoy a little quality time with Angus.
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He was a wonderful chauffeur.
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And deserved his treat.
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I thought finding a set of living room furniture my husband liked was hard, but we did it.
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I thought finding a decent patterned fabric for the chair, ottoman and pillows was hard, but we’ve (tentatively) done that.
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But now?
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The part I thought would be easy is turning out to be anything but.
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We need a solid fabric for the couches and nothing is working.
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Neither of us wants that much blue so we’re leaning towards neutrals.
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There’s not much color in the pattern and it’s been difficult choosing a coordinating shade.
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Too light.
Too dark.
Too turd like.
The new floor will look like this…
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So I have to consider that as well.
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Too light for the white walls.
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Too cool a shade for the floor and warm trim.
The search continues….
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As we headed down the road for our tour of Beaufort ( say it with me now… Byoo-fert. Byoo as in beautiful, fert as in fertile. Byoo-fert. ) SC, the husband wanted a second breakfast and chose this quaint little place in Port Royal.
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Cozy, and small …
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The Old Schoolhouse didn’t take themselves too seriously.
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I’m not a big breakfast person, but since it looked like this might be lunch as well, I looked forward to some true southern biscuits and gravy. Finding that dish in Maine is a rare occurrence so I was fully prepared to splurge.
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To say I was disappointed with this (yellow… WTH?) measly batch of gravy with very little sausage (not to mention flavor) is an understatement. I was in the south…
Y’all are supposed to do this right!
Unsatisfying breakfast/lunch over, we made it to Beaufort. (Did you say Byoo-fert in your head? Good. Let’s continue. )
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Where we had tickets for a horse drawn carriage tour around the city. That white horse was in training…
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So we had Angus.
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My husband rolled his eyes when I said I wanted to do this, but after a few minutes into the historic tour? He was hooked.
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Our tour centered on The Point. The old section of Beaufort filled with beautiful Civil War era homes.
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And some quirky art.
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At the beginning of the war the savvy residents of Beaufort took part in what is now known as the Great Skedaddle.
In the panic of The Great Skedaddle of 1861—the hasty escape of white residents from Beaufort, South Carolina, six months after the start of the Civil War—anything that could not be buried or carried was abandoned. Enslaved people were left behind along with all the wealth accumulated from nearby cotton plantations: expensive furniture, horses, and clothing. When the Union Army arrived, there was only one white man left in town and he was dead drunk, or so the legend goes.
As history would have it, what drove white Beaufortonians from their homes was ultimately what saved the town they left behind. Unlike burned and battle-scarred Charleston, 50 miles to the north, the Union Army claimed Beaufort without a fight. Setting up operations in the town’s stately mansions rescued them from destruction. To this day, Beaufort has more surviving antebellum architecture than almost anywhere else in the South.
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It’s a lovely area, literally lost in time and lovingly preserved.
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That stone out front? A step for women to board carriages without displaying their ankles. Only shameless hussies flashed those.
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This wall is called pigeon hole brick and is completely original.
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The grand old homes…
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The live oaks, the moss…
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The clomp of Angus’s hooves.
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It was like being transported back 160 years.
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River's world..... 