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Four days at Hunting Island

We were going to camp for four days at Hunting Island State Park.

Heaven only knows where my tent was. I didn’t.

Hopefully, someone had kept track of it since my last outing before the COVID at Fort McAllister.

“Don’t worry about it,” they said. “We’ll set up a tent for you,” they said.

So, I did what any sensible woman would do. I went over to Dick’s Sporting Goods and brought home one of those festival tents like the ones lining Calhoun Street during May Festival.

No matter what, rain or hail, mosquitoes or sand gnats, I could add screen sides to this impromptu oceanfront villa plus a cot, sleeping bag, my favorite pillow, and ta-dah, I had a backup plan.

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