An Easy Antique Run — and a Diner Worth the Drive — in Woodbury

We didn’t set out to discover anything new. We were just willing to drive a little farther.

On a recent Saturday, we pointed the car south toward Woodbury, Georgia, looking for antiques for my 21-year-old son, who recently bought his first house — a 1910 home that practically demands old things with stories. We’ve shopped antique stores all over Fayette and Coweta counties, but this trip came with a nudge: High Cotton Antiques & Uniques had been recommended by one of my best friends in Peachtree City, a true maven of excellent taste whose suggestions I trust without hesitation.

That turned out to be the easiest decision of the day.

Woodbury is closer than many people realize. From Sharpsburg, it took us less than 40 minutes, and the drive itself was part of the appeal. There were almost no traffic lights the entire way — mostly roundabouts and country roads with one lane in each direction, the kind of drive that feels calm instead of congested. From Fayetteville, Peachtree City, or Senoia, it would have been even quicker. This isn’t a road trip — it’s a short jaunt that feels refreshingly uncomplicated.

Once we arrived, everything we wanted was right there.

We started at High Cotton Antiques & Uniques and worked our way through the space slowly. Just as we were getting ready to leave, my son spotted it in one of the last areas we looked at — an East Lake dresser with interesting drawer pulls and a strip of marble on top, a piece that will look right at home in an old Ohio house. It was the kind of find that makes you glad you didn’t rush. High Cotton’s merchandise was beautifully displayed, the sort of place that rewards lingering rather than scanning.

From there, we wandered over to The Gathered Warehouse, where Meemaw did what she does best and scored several clearance Christmas items, including some especially cute hand towels. It was the kind of stop that reminds you antiquing isn’t always about big furniture finds — sometimes it’s about small, happy surprises.

Our next stop was Resurrect Antiques, which had its own kind of appeal. The shop is phasing out clothing and accessories entirely, and everything in that section was marked 75% off — a true clearance sale, not a marketing tease. I didn’t see a rush of other shoppers loading up on clearance clothing, but I did what I always do in moments like that: I bought ahead.

I picked up gifts for people who haven’t even had birthdays yet, and for those future moments when you suddenly need something nice to give away and don’t want to panic-buy. I also bought myself a velveteen shirt that will be perfect if Georgia ever decides to give us genuinely cold weather. Seventy-five percent off isn’t as good as free, but it’s close.

After making the rounds and seeing everything the shops had to offer, we circled back to High Cotton. My son had done what good antique shoppers do: walked away, thought about it, and realized the dresser was still the right choice. That quiet certainty is how you know a piece belongs with you.

After a few hours of browsing, hunger made the decision for us. A local had recommended Smitty’s, and we followed that advice just down the street, near the first red light.

Smitty’s doesn’t try to be anything other than what it is: a straightforward, homespun diner with affordable prices and a loyal following. Most entrées hover around $12, with burgers even less. The most expensive thing I saw on the menu was a 12-ounce ribeye for $21, which feels almost unheard of right now.

The food backed it up. Like a fried corn nugget appetizer dipped in house ranch I will crave at 2 a.m. when I’m writing stories for The Citizen. The catfish came with a spicy, well-seasoned crust and homemade tartar sauce. The brisket was tender without being fatty, paired with a solid barbecue sauce. Sweet potato fries disappeared quickly, and my BLFGTPC — bacon, lettuce, fried green tomato, and pimento cheese — lived up to its nickname on the menu. They call it “the alphabet,” and it’s exactly as good as it sounds: crispy, creamy, and deeply Southern.

At the front of the restaurant, cookies the size of your head, and sweet breads were laid out on a table the way they are at a church bake sale, while slices of cake sat neatly in the bakery case nearby. The molasses cookie alone deserves a mention — crisp around the edges, soft in the middle, and massive—so you COULD share. Maybe.

As we sat there, it became clear that Smitty’s isn’t just a place to eat — it’s part of the town’s backbone.

Owner Bob Oxford explained that while Smitty’s itself opened in 2000, the building has housed a restaurant since the mid-1960s. His aunt originally built the building and ran a restaurant called Odell’s before leasing it out in later decades. Oxford said the space continued to operate as a restaurant through the 1980s and 1990s, and when he acquired the business in 2018, he chose to keep the name.

“This building itself was like an icon,” Oxford said. “So we’ve just maintained it as Smitty’s.”

Smitty’s sources its brisket and hamburger steaks from Caldwell Beef, a grass-fed cattle farm in Pike County. The décor won’t stop you in your tracks, but that’s not the point. It feels like a diner because it is: comfortable, unpretentious, and clearly loved.

Oxford summed up his approach simply.

“My philosophy here is that I hope people feel good when they come in and enjoy themselves and feel better when they leave,” he said.

A practical note for planners: Smitty’s is closed on Sundays and Mondays. Many of the antique shops in Woodbury close by 5 p.m., and hours can vary, especially on weekends. It’s worth checking Google listings or calling ahead before you go — nobody wants to make an easy drive and arrive to locked doors.

By the time we headed home, it was clear that Woodbury had given us exactly what we wanted: a productive day of antiquing, a satisfying meal, and the reminder that some of the best places are closer than we think.

For Fayette and Coweta residents, Woodbury isn’t a destination you need to plan around. It’s an easy afternoon, a short drive, and a town that rewards curiosity without demanding much in return — except maybe that you come hungry and leave with your trunk a little fuller than you planned.

And honestly, that’s the best kind of day.