Pastor Drew
at Lebanon, UMC, told us that if we wanted the best REAL local cooking, and no
bunk, we should not miss the place 1 mile west of the church. Mr. Bunky’s.
I was ready
for a ‘Goats on the Roof’ type place.
You know, all touristy and expensive?
Not so. Bunky’s is a REAL local
place. A place for meat (I believe they
butcher here), and a place for hardware, clothes, groceries and the entire second floor
mezzanine is consignment-anything that would make any thrift store proud. Oh,
and a gas station. Oh-Oh, and there is a restaurant.So this morning, with both of us awake and up at the abnormal early hour of 8:00 am we woke up TOAD and left FROG to get her own breakfast.
First let me
say the service was extra friendly, and so were the patrons who were just
finishing their meals as we entered.
Second, the food was REALLY good and plenty of it. Orange juice, fried catfish, eggs and grits
with a biscuit on the side. Such a meal,
split between us, makes a full breakfast for the two of us now. 
And third,
we walked out on the porch to find a bin of bait just waiting to feed any fish
we might want to catch with their breakfast as well. I wonder if they buy these wholesale or if
Bunky pays his grandson’s by the pound to catch them at night?
On the road
again! This time down past the Santee
and cotton fields. Many were just
beginning to come into bloom, but as we got closer to the coast more and more
fields were ripe for pickin’.
One way we
saw the picking done was new to us. But
why not? Hay doesn’t have to go into
bales anymore, why should cotton?
Then, just a
few miles west of the bridge to Edisto Island we drove through our first tunnels
of huge live oaks covered with dangling Spanish moss that caught on our
multiple antennas and rode along with us or twanged them around like banjo
strings.
Next stop Edisto
Beach State Park. The Atlantic Coast, and
water near 80 degrees.
A soft
breeze. Shrimp boats plying the waters a couple of hundred yards offshore,
pelicans and gulls chasing after.
The
afternoon passes slowly and well as we take a dip now and then and read most of
it away.
Evening, and
the moon rises as the sun sets. 
A blowfish,
probably caught in a shrimper’s nets and tossed overboard by the ‘pickers’ will
be a meal for some carrion bird before dawn.
Our
neighbors, Vinnie and Donna, snowbirds from Maine who live down south in their
coach 6 months of each year, enjoy their fire and a view of the moon with their 70 lb. pup, 6 month old Toby.
We’re here
for three nights, then possibly to a nearby church (like 6 minutes from our
camp site), or not. You don’t want to
over plan this kind of retirement.
Time for
bed, and a new day tomorrow!
-Ken
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