We passed into South Carolina today. Unfortunately, between the three of us—Skip, Bee, and me—and the two lovely people we spent the night with, M. and C., we managed to oversee Skip’s computer charger sitting on the ottoman in the living room. Skip and I were in Gastonia when we realized this. So, after we shot our roll at the South Carolina border, I turned around and headed back to Charlotte.
The drive was pretty though, and I stopped frequently to take pictures of signs I found humorous, as well as the sight of a goat tied up in the front lawn of a trailer. I took a photograph, but it might have well been one of the infamous Bigfoot photographs of yore, with a blurry and disputable subject. (Side note: I read in a book recently that, based on my birthday and year and phase of moon and all that jazz, my power animal is supposed to be a Sasquatch. I don’t know why, but I kind of like this, maybe even enough to get a tattoo of it.)
It doesn’t take long for South Carolina to distinguish itself from its northern counterpart. I laughed when I saw the Piggly Wiggly in Blacksburg. I craved peaches at the first stand I passed, and lit up like a roman candle at the first fireworks stand I drove by—come to think of it, it might have been the same stand. I considered all this while relishing the fried bologna sandwich I had for dinner when I finally met up with Skip.
I arranged for Skip and I to spend the night next to the Valley fire station in East Gaffney. (A big thank you to Craig who stayed outside and chatted with me in the chilly October evening, inviting Skip and I to come over to his house and shoot guns the next morning if we felt like it, and to Chief Happy who gave us the permission to camp there in the first place.) Skip arrived around 10 and I was wrapped up like a mummy within the hour, with only the hair on my chinny-chin-chin protruding from my sleeping bag.
2 comments:
I grew up going to South Carolina several times a year to visit my grandparents and various cousins, aunts, uncles, etc. We ALWAYS went to Piggly Wiggly. This was before the days of Wal-Mart Superstore. One time, Piggly himself was there, and I was terrified (I was a little tyke). This summer I went back and received a great bumper sticker: Get your Piggly on!" I'm still looking for the perfect place to put it. :) You should try to get one before you leave.
Every now and then I find a book that I love so much! While I'm out and about in the evening, maybe having dinner or drinks with my friends, I'm counting down the hours till I get to get home and snuggle up in my bed, next to my lamp alone with my book. I don't want to stop reading the book, b/c I enjoy it so much! Yet, I don't want to make more progress through the book, b/c I know it means I will be finished that much sooner and won't be able to read it anymore. This is how I feel about your blog. Throughout the day, I find myself thinking about it, hoping that you will write something. When I get home, I feel like I'm allowing myself a little luxury, like a fine piece of chocolate. I sit down to savor it, and then . . . .it's over. So quickly. And I have to wait until the next one. I'm struck with an urge to go back and re read all the old ones, but I don't.
The point is . . . . this is some very fine writing.
Do I sound like a stalker?
:)
Post a Comment