My gatherings are that Charleston is the oyster navel of the universe, although I don't know why, they apparently get their supply from the Gulf (of Mexico, not Persian). Upon arrival, Rob took me to a little restaurant near our hotel called Hank's and I depleted their supply by 15 already. I intend to see what I can do to help with any oversupply of these critters with which they might be burdened.

Our waiter last night already informed me that I am a Yankee. As a Yank, I have preconceived notions that the South is supposed to be warm and humid, either that or hot and humid or oppressively smoldering and humid. It is not hot or smoldering and it is not humid. It is warm, about 50F during the day and gets down to about 30F at night. So the Yank dug out winter coat, hat and mittens for this trip. Today while Rob labors to contribute his share to the GNP (HA!), I will outfit myself with backpack, cameras, lenses, hiking shoes and go to see what this city, so thick with history and Americana, is all about. Now the sun is just arising and I can catch my first glimpses of a brand-new horizon. The mental data-processors are rolling! This will be fun! And in case I become weak and require nourishment, there are oysters around every corner with my name all over them!