On Sunday morning we slept in. We had sorta initially discussed leaving in the mid-morning (though that did go against our “no-planning” plan), but once we woke up we just ended up lollygagging around all damn day.
While we were still hovering between sleep and wake, we were suddenly vaulted into awakeness by the sound of a screaming chicken and lots of crashes coming from somewhere below us (we were sleeping upstairs). My mother had left the laundry room door cracked, and somehow one of the chickens had managed to push it open and come into the laundry room (no doubt lured by the pungent scent of cat food). Once she got inside, she suddenly discovered she didn’t know how to get out and started getting a little nervous. My mom heard her and went in to try and help her, which the chicken interpreted as a direct declaration of war with an intent to make it as scary and painful as possible and the chicken EXPLODED all over the laundry room, jumping on every flat surface available, knocking down anything that wasn’t nailed down, squawking, and flapping her wings as she frantically tried to extract herself from such a dangerous situation. Idiot.
This is what woke us up.
This is what woke me and my Yankee boyfriend from Massachusetts up.
A chicken. In the house.
Welcome to Alabama, baby.
After we got up and ate breakfast and sat around on the deck for a while, we decided to go for a walk in the woods (“seeing the estate”). It was actually pretty damn hot as far as March goes; I think it was around 90 or so by midday. We walked for about an hour, mercifully snake-free, though we did have a contingency plan in case that happened. That contingency plan was this: If we see a snake, be prepared to carry me shaking and crying out of the woods. It was lovely, and I think Pete really enjoyed seeing the woods of Alabama. I certainly enjoyed the excursion, though I did not enjoy the inescapable scent of Deet that permeated every ounce of my being for the next two days.
We saw some pretty flowers:
And a spiderweb covered in pollen:
After we got back from the walk, we packed everything up, had lunch, and got back on the road for Charleston. We arrived back in Charleston around 9 PM, just in time to go out and have a nice farewell dinner at one of my favorite restaurants, Hank’s, which, once again, consisted of massive amounts of seafood (though this time, mercifully, without the awful redition of “Margaritaville”).