Missing South Carolina

I grew up in New England where we avoid eye contact and pleasantries unless absolutely necessary. We are also scared to venture south of New York. As we shiver and wrap our cold hands around Dunkin’ Donuts coffee, we imagine hordes of proper Southern ladies in fancy flowery hats plying us with sweetened tea and sugary pies who mispronounce “merlot” as “devil juice.” I felt nearly reckless choosing a college that broke the New York rule. My mother would call during a blizzard to inquire about the weather “down south." When she tagged along with me to a grocery store recently and witnessed me respond “very well, thanks. How are you?” to a cashier, she remarked, with a wry tone, “how chatty we are today.”

In August, Roommate and I both found ourselves in the enviable position of having almost an entire month off work. Roommate chose Charleston largely because Roommates’s sister recently moved there with her husband. Because her husband’s employment with the Coast Guard required him to be at sea for several months at a time, and because she was lonely, and because she was more than happy to offer up free lodging, Charleston it was.

On our first night, I needed to make a late-night toiletries run. I walked into a Walgreens and was *greeted* by a lovely teenager who graciously inquired into my well-being in a *genuine* tone. I was floored; after all, I didn’t think that Walgreens clerks worked on commission. I had been warned about Southern hospitality before, but remained suspicious. I made a quick check that her sweet friendliness hadn’t, say, been a ruse to divert my attention from my wallet. Still there. The strange sweetness continued at dinner. A young man *held the door* for the three of us. “What a bizarre thing, “ I thought. You see, we don’t have chivalry in Boston, but I had encountered it in my English studies to know it when I see it. Strange when a trip intended for nothing but pure Relaxation turns into an anthropological expedition…

The three of us spent weeks exploring old plantations and swamp lands. Mostly, I was me urging the other two on, and demanding they Appreciate assorted views, architecture, plants, and animals.

I fell in love within mere hours. Even now, I am half-considering a move there in the next few years. I moped around for a few days upon our return to the city, ruefully noting that I could never have a palmetto tree here. It was downright challenging to feel stressed in South Carolina (stress is a miserable by-product of being a trial lawyer), and I fantasized about strolling along the Battery at as a work break, watching the pelicans swoop and dive. I miss the palmettos, I miss the not-so-rush-hour traffic, I miss the fact that *everything* was half the price of what I'm used to, if not more.

I also miss the alligators.

Yes, I could live here.

***

The baddogs and I had a lovely autumn weekend. On Saturday Jack slipped and fell while "dominating" a chocolate lab and split his nail. After thirty minutes at a vet Emergency Room, we were clean and bandaged. Jack *adored* having all the triage nurses fawn all over him, and I similarly adored the $20(!!!!) bill. (Jack, of course, would have you believe that the split nail is a "battle scar" endured while gallantly protecting Coco'nut from...something.)

We spent Sunday afternoon at what I maintain is the best dog park, ever. It's huge, hilly, and has a creek. The hills are fantastic for wearing the kids out, and the creek cleans off any muddy pawprints. Jack took a particular liking to a beautiful Great Dane - since his new sister will be a Great Dane, I was especially happy to see two romp around :)