Every store in Charleston and Savannah sells grits, the restaurants serve grits and cookbooks offering a gazillion grit recipes grace the store front windows. My boyfriend keeps nagging me if I've eaten shrimp and grits and the answer is a resounding no. Grits are ok, but nothing that I sit around craving. Hmmm, I'm hungry and would love to eat some grainy grits right about now.
Grits, as the tour guide explained, are Girls Raised in the South. I'm far from being a grit and have a hard time understanding some words with the thick southern accent.
|Redneck wind chimes|
|I love the lanterns accenting the houses and their shutters|
On the running front, on Sunday after 1.5 miles of dead ends, I found a bike trail and got in a 7 mile run. The first half mile my calf was tight but loosened up and although the hammy had a "sensation" throughout the day, it is all good. Today I ran 8 miles and loved the run looking at the back yards of the houses, which have no back fences. The weather is awesome and I'm off for another day playing tourist.