Merry Charleston Christmas,
A time when we break out our Christmas T-shirts and shorts
String lights on the trees holding up our Hammocks
and pour a little Cruzan Rum in our Holliday Eggnog
...
The time of year when we make wreaths out of magnolia trees
Sing Jimmy Buffet Carrol's and mow the lawn for the last time this year(maybe).
Beach walks on weekends and nights just cool enough to make steamed oysters a treat, under moonlight that's seen a million nights just like this.
Horses decorated for the season, walk down cobblestone roads just as they did 200 years ago, as the scent of a dozen fine restaurants and home kitchens fill our senses with recipes both new and old.
A place where people still say good morning and Merry Christmas to everyone they pass, and Y'all is a term of affection.
A place in time, where Church bells still play the background music for our Sunday mornings as we drive home with the windows down as the warm December air teases us with a hint of the sea. Past ladies weaving sweetgrass baskets and our favorite Boiled P-nut stand, whose been selling bags of joy at the same place for the last 30 years.
A time when friends and family gather around seemingly limitless platters of turkey and ham, blackeyed peas and collard greens and everyone just knows that they make the best sweet tea in town. Another day and another night where our windows are as open as our lives, where the sound of laughter drifts out and mingles with that of our neighbors and for a time all seems right.
MERRY CHRISTMAS FROM CHARLESTON Y'ALL
A time when we break out our Christmas T-shirts and shorts
String lights on the trees holding up our Hammocks
and pour a little Cruzan Rum in our Holliday Eggnog
...The time of year when we make wreaths out of magnolia trees
Sing Jimmy Buffet Carrol's and mow the lawn for the last time this year(maybe).
Beach walks on weekends and nights just cool enough to make steamed oysters a treat, under moonlight that's seen a million nights just like this.
Horses decorated for the season, walk down cobblestone roads just as they did 200 years ago, as the scent of a dozen fine restaurants and home kitchens fill our senses with recipes both new and old.
A place where people still say good morning and Merry Christmas to everyone they pass, and Y'all is a term of affection.
A place in time, where Church bells still play the background music for our Sunday mornings as we drive home with the windows down as the warm December air teases us with a hint of the sea. Past ladies weaving sweetgrass baskets and our favorite Boiled P-nut stand, whose been selling bags of joy at the same place for the last 30 years.
A time when friends and family gather around seemingly limitless platters of turkey and ham, blackeyed peas and collard greens and everyone just knows that they make the best sweet tea in town. Another day and another night where our windows are as open as our lives, where the sound of laughter drifts out and mingles with that of our neighbors and for a time all seems right.
MERRY CHRISTMAS FROM CHARLESTON Y'ALL
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