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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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