Glorious. I quickly threw on a tank top and my running shorts, grabbed the parents and the dog, jumped in the golf cart, and headed to the beach. Even super early, the beach was pretty crowded (for Fripp Island standards) and Tabby was able to meet lots of other dogs... even if they didn't want to meet her. There really is nothing happier to see than a dog running at full tilt down the shoreline. I spent the rest of Monday in the sun: my pale-ass Irish skin is not too happy with me right now... but my mom kept telling me I looked like "the white meat of a chicken" so I was determined to take full advantage of those UV rays.
Despite the rain, the trip to god-awful Hilton Head, and the utterly dissapointing meal at Hominy Grill, it was still a great weekend. It's a little hard for me to not enjoy a weekend at Fripp: it's my home, but at the beach. It doesn't get much better than that.
Plus, the ultra-luxe-extra-soft pillowtop mattress that I made my parents get for my bedroom down there is just about the most incredible thing I've ever experienced.