No one's life is sane. It is learning how to live with the insanity that is the trick. Sure, down South, we all have our skeletons in the closet. The difference is - we open the doors and let them dance on the front porch. After all, who doesn't have a mother who thinks she knows it all, a father who knows best, at least one irritating sibling, and that weird uncle no one wants to sit by at supper. I'm not sure what "Normal" is, but whatever it is, I know I live a bit south of it.
Tuesday, March 4, 2014
Featherbed Motel Turbeville, SC
Continuing on my journey up Highway 301, I came upon the Featherbed Inn in Turbeville, SC. Now if you are not familiar with Turbeville (population 820), its most notable business may be its downtown local eatery the "Chat 'n Chew". I digress.
The Featherbed Motel looked to be a well to do place in her day.
Sadly, her day had past. What was left were remnants of days long gone. But just looking at the building it made we want to go back in a time machine, drive up in a 1960's Oldsmobile, check into room #4, put on my swim suit and relax by the pool. What more could a traveler want after a long day on the road.
The comfortable iron benches where visitors could relax under the shade of the awning still sit in front of many of the rooms.
Looking down the corridor, you can see the line of room doors.
And the pool, I am sure was most relaxing in its day. Although these days it is losing the battle to algae and weeds.
Such a sad site to see, a shadow of her former self, abandoned to the elements.