Having spent a grand total of 36 hours in Charleston, South Carolina, I can confidentially say that
I heart the south. Here's why:
- Being addressed as "y'all."
- Sweet tea.
- Better yet? Sweet tea vodka! Best yet? Mixing it with lemonade. It's like an Arnold Palmer that knows somebody.
- Palmetto trees
- Palmetto bugs (I don't actually like the bugs. I just think it's the nicest way I've ever heard anyone refer to a cockroach).
- Seer-sucker suits with bow ties. I was so taken with this gentleman that I pretended to be futzing with my phone just to discreetly(?) snap his photo. I sure hope all ya'll appreciate the kinds of sacrifices I make for the blog.
- Calling your purse a "pocketbook" even if it's the size of a suitcase.
- Front porches with rocking chairs. Arnold and I could pass many happy hours that way.
- The Piggly Wiggly. If I had stayed three or four more days I think I could have legitimately started calling it "the Pig." As in, "alright ya'll I'm fixin to pop over to the Pig for some more lemonade. Anybody seen my pocketbook?"
- Trees that look like they're straight out of Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil.
- Manners: people use them and it's so pleasant.
There it is! On the anniversary of our country's independence, I publish my declaration of love for the first state to secede from the union. Woops.
