One of the many, many things I adore about Savannah is Tybee Island. It's the laid back, throw-back kinda beach that I grew up on and I just feel absolutely at home when I've got my toes in that murky water and derriere in the shell laden sand. With the PCP at camp, Daddy-O took charge of Cookie while Mother and I sipped on ice cold Cokes and gabbed about decor, fashion and the oodles of colorful characters spotted in various states of (sometimes inappropriate) undress on the beach. I can't recall the last time I actually sat in a lounge chair under an umbrella at the beach, but I felt like I owned cotton in Augusta for a while there.
We spent a good long while immensely enjoying ourselves on the deck at Social before boot-scootin' it to pick up John from camp. And then it was back to our run-of-the-mill antics - fishing, watermelon eating, baseball playing, hunting fiddlers and bathing in the sprinkler (I'm not the only one that does this, right?!) - until supper time. Once again, Mother and Daddy-O outdid themselves with filets on the Big Green Egg, oven-baked hand cut fries, cucumbers from the garden and Governor's Mansion Peach Tea.
You can take the girl out of the beach but you can't take the beach out of the girl. Perhaps we'll meander back to Tybee tomorrow.
xoxo
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