Today was a play day. My friend (whose job also keeps her geographically separated from her husband, so she totally gets me) took me to a festival down at one of the plantation houses. This was one of those where all the restaurants come in and have a limited menu of small items, and you pay way too much for a tiny amount of food, but it is still so delicious and wonderful you just don't care. We wandered around, looked at all the vendor booths (Southern Living was the primary sponsor), and baked in the autumn sun. We had a blast. My hair still smells like barbecue smoke, which probably explains my threatening migraine. There was a band playing a nice mix of country and rock songs, including Johnny Cash, Guns & Roses, and at least two songs by Charlie Robison by the time we left. (I had only half listened to them until we were in line for a pulled pork sandwich for my friend, when I realized they were singing "My Hometown," and it was done so well I snaked through the crowd to verify that it wasn't Charlie himself.) And of course, since this was Taste of Charleston, I paid four bucks for a single scoop of Americone Dream. Stephen's hometown, you know.
The festival was at Boone Hall plantation, where a lot of the exterior shots for the movie The Notebook were filmed. The grounds are so amazingly beautiful. On the way out, we wandered through the maze of gardens. I must have taken a hundred pictures. I have enough to make up for the lack of beauty shots for the last several weeks. I will choose my favorite dozen or so and put them up for your entertainment. And then I will lie back and ice my shin and wait for tomorrow when I can try to gather the courage to ask a doc to inspect it. Today's slow walk really irritated it.
Don't you wish your yard looked like this?
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