Friday, October 21

I had noticed a little parochial school-run thrift shop each day as we’d come and gone from our sweet cottage. Just around the corner and open for a very limited time only a few days a week, I had decided to stop by there on our last full day on Tybee Island. It would also make for a nice, quiet walk.

I slipped on my flip-flops, grabbed a little cashola and strolled over to the store. The St. Michael’s School Thrift Shop was a treasure chest of finds. Lots of goodies for the taking and I found myself digging through boxes, craning to read the title of books and peeking around the next corner in search of my own treasure. My efforts were not fruitless. I claimed a hardback copy of “Farewell to Manzanaar”, some vintage knitting pamphlets and an older “Interweave Knits” that I didn’t have.

I took a different route home, passing a sweet little modern church hidden behind tall pine trees. Beautiful shiny pine cones were scattered along the path I took to admire a calming fountain. I may have taken one for myself. A pine cone, that is, not a fountain.

At some point, we finally made it to Unwind during their regular business hours and I snagged some souvenir yarn and got a chance to hear, once again, that lovely slow-drawn Southern accent that immediately makes you feel like you are home.

We dined again at the North Beach Grill, sitting outside and snagging that one last margarita. The sun was bright and warm as we watched birds steal sweet potato fries.

We had been lured earlier in the week by the mention of key lime-white chocolate pie, so we got some to-go.

After a nice, loooooong dip in the pool, that pie was a nice little treat.

We snuck off to the beach and the pier to watch the sunset and admire the beauty and peacefulness of that ocean one last time, officially. I snagged a few last shells for my little collection.

Mexicali provided dinner and before I knew it, we were packing up a few last minute things in preparation for our trip home. I was sad, so very sad, to leave Tybee, to move out of the little cottage that had become our home and to head back to reality.


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