Sasee - August 2015

August 2015 Priceless www.sasee.com

I cannot even imagine where I would be today were it not for that handful of friends who have given me a heart full of joy. Let's face it, friends make life a lot more fun.

Charles R. Swindoll

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Volume 14, Issue 8

August2015

who’s who Publisher

Delores Blount

Sales & Marketing Director Susan Bryant

Editor

Leslie Moore

Account Executives

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Amanda Kennedy-Colie Erica Schneider Gay Stackhouse

Photography Director Patrick Sullivan

Graphic Artist Stephanie Holman

Web Developer Scott Konradt

Accounting

Stacie Sapochak

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Featured A Cat’s Tale by Jeffrey Cohen . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 8 Mongolia, Four Horses and a Husband by Samantha Southey . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 14 Five Things I’ve Learned About Friendship by Janey Womeldorf . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 16 Southern Snaps: Hope and Healing on Four Legs by Leslie Moore . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 18 Committed by Rose Ann Sinay . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 22 My Geriatric Vacation by Diane Stark . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 30 Pussyfooting Pals by Diane DeVaughn Stokes . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 38 My Charming Friends by Linda O’Connell . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 40 Mary by Celia Colby . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 42

In This Issue Read It! . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 10 Fashionable Comfort: Michelle Gallagher, The Walking Company . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 12 Finance Family-Style: Debi Burroughs, The Citizen’s Bank . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 26 Party of Five: Amy Bunn, The Joggling Board . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 32 Soul Conversations: Chris Richardson, Kangaroo Pouch . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 36 July Calendar . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 44

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Administrative & Creative Coordinator Celia Wester

Executive Publishers Jim Creel Bill Hennecy

PO Box 1389 Murrells Inlet, SC 29576 fax 843-626-6452 • phone 843-626-8911 www.sasee.com • info@sasee.com Sasee is published monthly and distributed free along the Grand Strand. Letters to the editor are welcome, but could be edited for length. Submissions of articles and art are welcome.

Visit our website for details on submission. Sasee is a Strand Media Group, Inc. publication.

Copyright © 2015. All rights reserved. Reproduction of any material, in part or in whole, prepared by Strand Media Group, Inc. and appearing within this publication is strictly prohibited. Title “Sasee” is registered with the U.S. Patent & Trademark Office.

Pen & Brush readers’ comments RE: “Life at 42 MPH,” by Rose Ann Sinay Loved it! As usual, your stories bring to mind some great memories that have somehow gotten misplaced. You bring me back to a long forgotten, slower paced world that I find myself yearning for in today’s hectic, computerized mayhem. Thank you for retrieving those memories for me.

– Mary Ann RE: “Southern Snaps: Safety in the Sky,” by Leslie Moore Great article and beautiful picture!

– Colleen RE: Sasee E-Book available on Facebook and Sasee.com Thank you! Love getting Sasee this way when I’m out of town! Excellent!

– Claire

letter from the editor Each month, writers from all over the country, and even the world, share their lives with Sasee readers through their writing –and reading these well crafted essays is fun, a lot like sitting down for a visit with a good friend. Many of these talented women (and a few men) have been submitting their work to us for years, and our frequent emails have deepened into personal relationships – we know what’s going on in each other’s lives and have shared good times and bad through long, rambling letters that are fun and rewarding to write and receive. I treasure these relationships and many times have thought about how wonderful it would be to travel and meet each one in person. Several years ago, I was able to meet Susan DeBow, a Sasee favorite since the beginning, and in mid-July I had the opportunity to spend a fun few hours with Janey Womeldorf, a name that you may recognize from her long term presence in Sasee. While she was vacationing in Charleston, Janey graciously took time from her holiday to meet me in Georgetown for lunch. And it was every bit as much fun as I had envisioned – we had an instant connection and it felt like we had been friends all of our lives. There was so much to talk about that lunch ended up being three hours long! Now that our virtual friendship has become an “in-person” one, I can’t wait until our next meeting.

Enjoy our friendship issue!

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Your [digital] magazine was recommended to me by an American friend who lives in The Netherlands, and I am now living in Spain, so you are reaching a very broad fan base!

- Marie RE: “Elvis, Poisoning and a Gas Station Healing,” by Liz Pardue-Schultz I was definitely laughing out loud at this -- the mental image was too perfect!

-Sarah

Cover Artist Kathy Womack Beach Girl, by Gwen Meyerson Artist Kathy Womack tells people she lives vicariously through her paintings. As a mother of three her life is hardly glamorous. It’s very “full,” just not glamorous. A little piece of Kathy screams to put on some strappy sandals and an evening frock, ready to hit the town, see the girls, have a glass of wine . . . or two. It may even be necessary to call the baby sitter and say she’s running a little late! That’s the inspiration for the “Women and Wine” series. The success of the series lies in the fact that the artist shares this view with many women today who sometimes feel the weight of their commitments and just need to get out and mingle. See the full series, and more of Kathy’s work, at kwomack.com.

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mail: P.O. Box 1389

Murrells Inlet, SC 29576 phone: 843.626.8911 email: info@sasee.com web: www.sasee.com

Voice

A Cat’s Tale

by Jeffrey Cohen

My father was an animal lover, and though we lived in the suburbs, that didn’t stop my dad from collecting quite a menagerie. We raised sweet singing golden canaries, a coop of cooing homing pigeons, a waddling duck, and even a raccoon that rode around on my brother’s shoulder after my brother adopted him from an overcrowded petting zoo. A neighbor “gifted” us a rabbit that had gotten too big for his cage. Another handed over three chicks that had outgrown their Easter cuteness. We had dogs of every size, shape and breed. The one thing we didn’t have was a cat. In fact, we weren’t even allowed to bring the subject up.

When my folks were first married, they owned a cat. My father came home from work one day and startled the kitty, which happened to be clawing her way up the living room curtains. The cat leaped at my father, leaving bloody scratch marks down his cheek. The cat was gone the next day, along with any notion of ever having another as a pet. So, cats were not a part of my life, until the day my eight year old found an abandoned kitten in a nearby field and brought it home.

“Can I keep it? Pleeeease,” he begged, stroking the tiny ball of fur.

I tried to warn my son of the perils of owning a cat, but I had to admit, the playful kitten seemed harmless enough, and not at all as dangerous as the dive bombing feline breed I’d grown up hearing about. He was a tabby with white paws, so we gave him the name Mittens.

We decided that Mittens would be an indoor cat, and then quickly learned it would not be our decision to make. Mittens had his own ideas. One morning, when the kitchen door was left ajar, he slipped out. I shook my head thinking we’d never see him again, but near dinner time, he showed up scratching and whining and waiting to be fed. From that day on, Mittens came and went as he pleased.

As he grew, he filled out, and began to look more like a jungle cat than the house variety. Daily, he prowled through our

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backyard, sizing up squirrels and birds or taking the occasional leap at a fluttering butterfly. Packs of screeching blue jays would gather on tree branches, planning their attack strategy while Mittens positioned himself in the high grass, waiting for their next assault. Down they would swoop and at just the right moment, he’d spring into the air, ready to do battle. Each day would end with him meeting me at the end of our driveway when I arrived home from work. He would look up, greet me with a twisting meow, then proudly escort me through the front door and head straight for his food dish.

There were evenings when Mittens was happy to stretch out on the living room rug or curl up on the couch next to my wife and me. I could spends hours just watching my furry best friend sleep. I’d never seen a man or beast look so relaxed. But there were those evenings when the call of the wild was greater than the comforts of home. He’d cry to be let out, and then disappear into the black of night. The next morning, he’d drag himself in, beat and battered after a night of carousing, ready for a good meal and a warm cozy spot to sleep.

One October night, he skulked off under the moonlight, but he did not return the next morning as was his usual routine.

When a second day passed without a sign, I began to search the neighborhood. Block by block, I spent hours combing every possible corner as I called his name, but I turned up nothing.

By day three, I widened my search. Following the railroad tracks that ran by the house, I rustled through bushes and poked into overgrown patches of weeds. Nothing. I came to the logical conclusion. Mittens was gone. I wanted to believe that some wealthy kid in a passing limousine had snatched him up, and driven off to a spacious house in the country where there were acres of open land, and Mittens would be treated like royalty. I imagined him being served warm milk and shredded chicken in sterling silver saucers for the rest of his days. That’s what I wanted to believe because I just couldn’t imagine any harm coming to my best friend.

“Someone must have found him and taken him in,” I explained to my wife as I tried to hide my heartbreak. “Maybe he’s with a nice family who has a bunch of kids. Maybe they even have other cats that he can play with.”

“Don’t give up hope,” my wife whispered, placing a consoling hand on my shoulder.”He’s a tough old Tom. I still think he’ll come home.”

I figured we all have our ways of dealing with grief and if my wife wanted to believe Mittens was one day going to return, I was willing to let her think so. I shrugged my shoulders and let it go.

Later that night, my wife went down to the basement to do some laundry.

“You’d better come down here,” she cried.

When I reached the bottom of the stairway, there was Mittens, curled up in an old shirt. His fur was muddy and matted. He was so weak he could barely lift his head, and there was a bad cut in his neck. We rushed him to the vet.

“He’s in pretty bad shape,” we were told. “If I have any chance of saving him, I’ve got to get right to it. You folks go home. I’ll do everything I can. I’ll call you when I know something.”

Ten days later the doctor was ready to release our now recovered pet.

“It was touch and go,” the doctor admitted.”He was scratching at death’s door. I’m guessing he was in a fight with another animal. The wound he received was pretty bad, and he lost a lot of blood, but he’s responded to the medication I gave him, and I think he’ll be just fine.”

When the vet carried him out, Mittens looked like a new cat -- healthy, strong and hungry, as usual. I smiled as I ran my palm over his fur, and he nuzzled up to me. On the ride home, as I listened to Mittens’ contented purr, I couldn’t help but think.

They say that cats have nine lives. One down...eight to go!

Jeffery Cohen Freelance writer and newspaper columnist Jeffery Cohen has written for Sasee, Lifetime, and Read, Learn, Write. He’s won awards in Women-On-Writing contests, Vocabula’s Well Written Contest, National League of Pen Women Writing Competition, Southern California Genealogy Competition and Writers’ Weekly Contest.

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by Nicole McManus

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Cami Anderson helps all creatures, great and small. That is her job as a veterinarian, but it is also a life-long passion. Her husband and daughter are used to the motley strays she brings home and nurses back to health. After one rescue mission, she comes home only to find that her husband has packed all of his things and announces the end to their marriage. While numb, she must not only face her family and friends, but also continue caring for an injured horse. Life doesn’t stop moving for Cami’s loved ones, as they all celebrate significant relationship milestones. Cami must learn to accept these events and move forward in life with the help of her friends.

Katrina Kittle packs a powerful punch with this novel. This book shows the different human dynamics of friendship and balances that with the soul-healing connections with animals. Told mostly through narrative, readers are taken on a journey through the important moments in each of the characters’ lives. The alternating points of view give readers an inside look into the emotions behind the characters’ actions. This is a wonderful book about friendship and compassion.

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Friendship is a powerful gift, and it can be found in a variety of ways, whether through old acquaintances or a sweet animal that found a way into your heart. We are grateful to experience this gift in its many forms throughout various stages of life, but it is during the darkest times that we lean heavily on our friends to help us push through to the light. I have been blessed to reconnect with friends that I haven’t seen in years, and it feels as though no time has passed. My two rescue pups have been by my side throughout the roller coaster ride that defined the last few years. I truly believe my soul is connected to them, and they have helped bring a smile to my face and peace to my soul whenever I have needed it. I can only hope to do the same for them each and every day.

Nicole McManus Nicole McManus loves to read, to the point that she is sure she was born with a book in her hands. She writes book reviews in the hopes of helping others find the magic found through reading. Contact her at

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ariesgrlreview.com.

Fashionable Comfort Michelle Gallagher The Walking Company

Tell us a little about yourself.

I was born in the Bronx, New York, and grew up in Yonkers. A few years ago, my husband, Ken, decided he was tired of our winters, and we moved here three years ago. I’m a mom of three and a grandmother of one. Rebecca, my oldest, currently lives in Virginia with her dad. Erik, 22, and Jake, 11, live with me, as well as my four year old granddaughter, Gianna.

Myrtle Beach is wonderful, and we love it. I do miss my family and don’t get up to see them as much as I would like. I still talk to my dad every single day! Dad is retired and my mom is in a doo-wop band – she stays busy!

Did you have a pet growing up?

I did. I had a beagle-boxer mix named Feathers – they used to call my dad Feathers, so I named my dog after him. Then I had Twinkles, another dog, and she lived to see my daughter. Our black lab, Jack, passed just before we moved here, and we haven’t gotten another dog.

What is your favorite thing to do with your women friends?

Why do you think these friendships are so important?

There’s nothing like a good girls’ night out! It’s so much fun to go to dinner and just relax and enjoy friends. I love to sing, but I’m terrible – only with my girlfriends do I belt out my favorite songs. My friends let me be me. We laugh at what used to be and what can be.

After we moved to Myrtle Beach, one of my lifelong friends, who knows everyone in my family, moved here and lives in the same complex. It’s so nice having her here – we take care of each other. When my grandmother died, she drove me home to her funeral.

What is the best thing about The Walking Company?

I love selling shoes and have been in the business for 26 years. Making someone mobile again is the best feeling in the world. This store opened a year ago this month, and I’ve been here since the very first day.

When you come into The Walking Company you will see lots of very fashionable, stylish shoes that are actually good for your feet! We have a special foot analysis computer program that will tell us exactly what your feet need to be comfortable and happy. We are all about health and wellness.

One woman came in at closing time and said her feet were killing her. We fitted her into three pairs of shoes, and she came back raving that now she can walk! A few weeks later the same woman came in with her running clothes on! The right shoes had let her walk wherever she wanted and even start running again.

Visit Michelle at The Walking Company in The Market Common at 3077 Howard Avenue, or call 843-232-0592.

Hours are Monday – Saturday 10 am – 9 pm, and Sunday 11 am – 9 pm.

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Voice

Mongolia, Four Horses and a Husband

by Samantha Southey

Sitting in a bar in Goa, India, enjoying a cold drink, watching the sun cast reds, yellows and pinks over the sea, I turned to my husband, Tim, and said, “I don’t want to go home to England.”

“Ok, where do you want to go?”

“I want to belong to The Long Rider’s Guild as a long rider.” I let out a sigh, thinking how amazing it would be to become a “real” adventurer.

“I’ll do it if we can ride in Mongolia.”

“OK.” We continued moving slowly south in India, thinking occasionally about our long ride. Our last planned stop, during our travels, was Thailand. In between lazy days at the beach, we emailed people the world over, asking if we could come and learn more about horses. The most replies came from Australia, so, we flew to Australia!

We spent a year working with an assortment of people. There was a horse trainer specializing in problem horses, a United Kingdom dressage rider, two English ladies who kept their horses in their back gardens, a trail riding company where, in exchange for long working days, we were given accommodation, food and a horse each. Our horse knowledge increased tenfold.

In Australia, in preparation for returning to the United Kingdom, I emailed a company looking for freelance work.

They agreed, and as they were based in Gloucestershire, that’s where we headed. We rented someone’s spare room and started saving for our Mongolian ride.

Things, as is often the way, didn’t quite go to plan. I remember telling our landlord, “We’re going to ride across Mongolia next year.” We rented his spare room for two years!

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We had to bring in enough money to pay our bills and to save. I had freelance work, but it wasn’t enough. Tim found it hard to get work. The TV and newspapers were awash with talk of a recession, fuel prices increased and we had more money going out than we had coming in.

Tim, wanting to contribute while job hunting, spent time with a local horse training couple. They were advocates of Monty Roberts and were well respected at natural horsemanship. They taught Tim, gave him access to their clinics and let him ride lots of horses. In return Tim picked up a lot of horse dung! After six months he found paid work and slowly over a year, his time filled up and he stopped working for them.

Saving for Mongolia took us five years. We had to budget for plane tickets, accommodation, horses, saddles, packing saddles, panyards, ropes…… the list went on!

We made a decision that had a huge impact on our Mongolian trip, and that was to ride without a local guide and this meant learning Mongolian. In March 2014, we left our jobs, sold or stored our things and set off for Ulaanbaatar. After three months of intense language studies we bought four horses and trained them the Mongolian way; hobble them, load them up, stand back and watch. Two of the horses were calm; two were not. We went on a two day “practice” ride and let them buck it out!

Finally, the day came, and we set off on the long ride. I didn’t make it to the end of day one without losing a horse. My pack horse, Captain James, had a fright and bucking furiously, he tore off across the steppe. I galloped after him on Morris, my riding horse. Finally Captain James stopped. I dismounted and gathered up the dislodged belongings. Suddenly, both horses spooked. I lost control of them and they galloped off out of sight.

I walked the five kilometers back to Tim, crying, and explained that I’d lost both my horses, my wallet, passport and all my luggage. Tim was annoyed, but had his own problems.

His riding horse, Goat, had thrown him, and Goat and Shar (his luggage horse, named after the Mongolian word for yellow due to his color) were trying to escape.

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We eventually found my missing horses and most of the luggage with the help of the people we bought the horses from.

I never recovered my waterproof coat, half our money and my bank card. We set off again, this time taking a local guide for three days to get us started. Baddtrack was a character. He’d drunk a bottle of vodka by the end of day one, spent day two hung over, and by day three he’d had enough and left us after a couple of hours.

We had so many adventures; we got thrown off our horses, bitten by them, kicked by them, attacked by huge bands of biting of flies, chased by dogs, threatened by thieves and lost in the mountains. We ran out of water and were helped by Mongolians, lost a lot of weight and were fed up by herders.

We met some fantastic, entertaining, kind and generous people, all of whom we’ll never forget.

We didn’t stick to our original route but we did ride from the south to the north of Mongolia, covering 1000 miles.

In 2014 we returned to England. Tim and I separated. It broke my heart, but I vowed my adventurous spirit wouldn’t be crushed. I did all I could to keep relations with Tim open and positive. We decided we would stay as climbing partners and work on becoming firm friends. The happy ending is that we got back together.

I don’t ask anyone who’s never done something like this to understand how hard it is, after an expedition, to return to everyday life. A sense of purpose leaves you, you re-evaluate what’s important and you question your life, both at that point and what your future self might become. We’re solid again and busy planning two adventures. One, dreamed up under the blazing Mongolian sun, as a welcomed distraction from difficult horses, and the second designed to take our mountaineering to the next level. Things can never be the same for me after Mongolia. My adventurous spirit is awakened and needs feeding!

Samantha Southey Samantha has been published by The Long Rider’s Guild, Training Magazine Europe and writes for her own enjoyment on her travel blogs. She is a corporate trainer by day and an adventurer by night!

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Voice

Five Things I’ve Learned About Friendship

by Janey Womeldorf

1. Husbands versus girlfriends My husband and I had been married less than three months. We were in our car, engine off, waiting to board a car ferry when I embarked on a conversation, in intricate detail, about the odd behavior I had recently experienced with a new friend. For over 45 minutes, I poured my heart out: How she acted, what she said, and how I responded. Once I felt he grasped the entire story, I sat back and with baited breath, waiting for his insight and input.

He looked at me blankly, and then said, “What?”

I felt gutted. I had expected us both to get lost in conversation as we explored, hypothesized and analyzed potential reasons for my friend’s behavior. Instead, I got a “deer in headlights” who assumed that when I was done, so was the conversation. As I fought back hurt, confusion and tears, he looked me, equally saddened, and confessed, “Janey, I can be your husband; I can’t be your girlfriend.”

It was a light-bulb moment: My husband is no more capable of thinking in shades of grey like my girlfriends, as I am of becoming a black-and-white thinker. If I try, I have a ten-minute window before his eyes glaze over.

Women, on the other hand, share, explore and embrace it all, be it a friend’s odd behavior, our dysfunctional families, the size of our butts or which color to paint the accent wall. As a newlywed, I thought the fact we couldn’t share all conversations meant we had a bad marriage; on the contrary, I applaud my husband’s honesty. It has made the last 25 years so much easier.

2. Follow that urge -- my best-timed phone call -- ever I was just about to write an e-mail to an old college friend when something prompted me to call her instead. In the thirty years since college, we have stayed in touch through cards, e-mails and a few magical get-togethers, but seldom by phone. I followed my urge and dialed her number.

When my girlfriend heard my voice, she shrieked with disbelief.

Unbeknownst to me, she had recently suffered a horse-riding accident and was temporarily bedridden. Several days in, monotony and boredom consumed her and she had been lying there, fingering her phone, when all of a sudden, as if by magic, it rang.

An electric hour of news, memories, old stories and laughter followed, after which we hung up with smiles on our faces and lifted spirits. Was it a bizarre coincidence or one of those unexplainable bonds of friendship?

3. It’s never too late.

I have two sisters. Growing up, we were three strangers, united by one bedroom, who talked most when we were accusing each other of something.

I have lived the last 23 years in the United States; my two sisters live in England. Of the three of us, only my younger sister and her husband have children which equates to busy lives, schools and schedules, not to mention

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expensive travel. Add to that us living in different countries and consequently, my younger sister and I have not spent as much time together as we would have liked. We were close, but our lives were separate.

Four years ago, she, her husband and children all flew to the States to visit.

One night, after everybody else went to bed, the two of us decided to pour some wine and go sit on the balcony. One hour passed, then two, then three as we shared, chatted, laughed and opened up to each other like we had never done (nor had the opportunity to do) before. We were unstoppable. As we hugged each other before finally going to bed, we both felt it: Something magical had happened.

Four years on, we can’t get enough of each other. We grab every opportunity to get together; often, it’s just us for a girlie getaway, and if we’re lucky, all three sisters. And to think, as teenagers, we barely gave each other the time of day.

Even with family, it’s never too late.

4. Think before you get offended I was on the phone with my older sister when all of a sudden, mid-stream, she blurted, “I have to go; my neighbor is walking this way and she has cookies.” Click.

As I contemplated possible offense at her abrupt and unapologetic hang up, I pictured my sister glowing over her unexpected plate of cookies. (She rarely cooks, let alone has home-baked cookies in the house, so, her urgency had merit.) Suddenly it dawned on me: Only someone you truly love, and truly loves you, can blow you off and get away with it. The fact she did it for a plate of cookies made it even funnier and suddenly, I loved her even more.

5. A quick girlfriend call is an oxymoron.

My girlfriend and I can go two months without talking, and then pick up the phone as if it were yesterday. After 45 years of devoted friendship, our lives are so entrenched that short conversations are a physical impossibility.

A fifteen-minute phone call is painful; thirty minutes barely scratches the surface; and hour-long conversations are do-able but leave us hanging. Many times afterwards, my husband will ask about her husband’s job. “We never got to that,” I reply. “We only had an hour.”

Phones with ear pieces work best; that way, I can clean and cook without missing a beat -- apart from when I am rooted in the middle of kitchen, blankly lost in deep conversation. Our longest-call record was two and a half hours.

Fortunately, we don’t have neighbors that bring us cookies so neither of us had to hang up suddenly. Not that we’d have minded -- true friends can get away with that -- besides, it was a conversation that could wait.

It was about some odd behavior I’d experienced with a new friend.

Janey Womeldorf Janey Womeldorf once went to work wearing different shoes. She now freelance writes and scribbles away in Orlando, Florida. It’s probably best.

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by Leslie Moore For most of us, our experience with animals is limited to our beloved four-legged companions – cats, dogs and maybe horses -- who provide us with love, loyalty and unconditional love, enriching our lives in immeasurable ways. However, our animal friends provide so much more for people who are disabled, traumatized and abused, and this month Sasee visited with two organizations that put animals and people together in miraculous ways.

Matt Burgess: Freedom Fidos “We’ve changed each other’s world,” said Freedom Fidos handler, Austin Shenyo matter-of-factly when I asked him about his relationship with his service dog, Bronson. A rising 7th grader, Austin’s friendly, outgoing personality belies the difficulties he’s faced in his young life. Before meeting Matt Burgess, founder of Freedom Fidos, Austin was struggling to keep up his grades and control the behavior resulting from a traumatic brain injury he suffered after being abused as a young child. Bronson, a gorgeous, long-haired German shepherd, was also the victim of abuse before being rescued by Matt and trained as a service dog. “Bronson nudges me when I lose focus,” Austin began. “And, when I’m sad or upset, he knows and stays close to me. He helps me a lot.” Austin also has orthopedic issues as a result of his injuries, and the large dog is able to keep Austin steady when he stumbles, preventing him from falling. During our interview, Bronson, along with the other service dogs, never took his eyes off of his handler – these highly trained dogs monitor every move.

For most of us, our experience with animals is limited to our beloved four-legged companions – cats, dogs and maybe horses -who provide us with love, loyalty and unconditional love, enriching our lives in immeasurable ways. However, our animal friends provide so much more for people who are disabled, traumatized and abused, and this month Sasee visited with two organizations that put animals and people together in miraculous ways.

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“Austin and Bronson bonded almost immediately,” Matt told me. “I knew this was going to be a good match.” Austin is one of 20 “handlers,” the term used for people with service dogs, placed by Matt in the last year and a half since founding the non-profit. Freedom Fidos provides tasktrained, no cost service dogs to individuals challenged with physical and cognitive impairments. Most dogs are rescued from local shelters, and Matt is an expert in selecting dogs with the right temperament for this demanding job. “When I go into a shelter, I bounce a tennis ball -- dogs that stay focused on the ball, no matter how long I bounce it, are the ones who make good service dogs. Service dogs must also be very task oriented, calm and non-reactive.” Freedom Fidos’ dogs are trained by Matt and other professional dog trainers who volunteer their services. Shock collars or other painful training techniques are never used. Service dogs are legally allowed to accompany their handlers anywhere, providing emotional and physical support.

Southern Snaps

Noah, Nick Mateo, Matt Burgess, Brinks, Bronson, and Austim Shenyo Nick Mateo, another Freedom Fidos handler, was in the Army for ten years and deployed three times to Iraq. Injured in mortar blasts, Nick spent a year in Walter Reid Hospital before being released and was subsequently given a medical discharge from the service. His injuries left him permanently disabled and unable to work. “Before I got Noah [Nick’s service dog] I couldn’t leave the house. I was diagnosed with PTSD and have severe anxiety – I couldn’t even stand in line at the grocery store because I didn’t like people being behind me.”

Growing up in a “Brady Bunch” type home, with eleven children, Matt, surprisingly, never had a dog growing up. “My dad liked cats, but I got a dog as soon as I left home,” Matt laughed. After Matt came home from his last tour in Iraq, his dog, Frosty, passed away at 15. “I went to the shelter and brought home Brinks. It was instant communication and love. But, he was a crazy puppy, and I had to train him. Because of Brinks, I learned to train dogs and found I was pretty good at it.” Through the training of the trainer, the idea for Freedom Fidos was born.

While Nick and I were talking, Noah became aware of his master’s rising anxiety and put his paws on Nick and bumped him repeatedly to calm him down. “Noah knows when I’m getting anxious, sometimes before I do,” Nick told me. “Now, when I’m standing in line, Noah watches behind me, and I am able to stay relaxed. He reminds me to take my medicine, watches my CPAP machine at night in case I stop breathing and even knows how to push a 911 button.”

Today, Freedom Fidos has a volunteer board of directors, 20 handlers and a waiting list of 70 people in need of a service dog. When asked how we can help, Matt told me that volunteer positions are available. Dogs in training need to practice being in all situations, and volunteers take them shopping, out to eat and to routine appointments. Donations toward the organization’s first free standing facility are also appreciated. “Once we purchase a facility, we will dramatically decrease the number of people waiting for a service dog.”

Matt understands the struggles his handlers face because, he, too, served in the Army and was injured by mortar blasts that left him with a traumatic brain injury. He also had a severe reaction to the anthrax vaccine that has had lasting effects on his health, including debilitating migraines and heart and lung problems. His service dog, Brinks, enables him to not just function, but to excel.

“Brinks actually saved my life. Last year, I was working outside my home and a board hit me, knocking me unconscious. This is very dangerous for someone with a brain injury. Brinks brought my cell phone, put it on my chest and then alerted a neighbor who called 911.”

Matt is passionate about the organization’s mission and growth, saying, “I feel that the incredibly satisfying mission of Freedom Fidos is a perfect trifecta in that we get to rescue dogs, help veterans and special needs children with the support of the community. If we empower just one individual to have the quality of life they once had, or maybe are experiencing for the first time, not only have we accomplished our goal, but we also experience a transformation into a deeper level of understanding our fellow humans.”

For more information about Freedom Fidos or to find out how to help, visit www.freedomfidos.org.

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Penny Lopez, Princess Sassy, Charlie McKinney, Seth McKinney

Penny Lopez: Barnabas Horse Foundation “One in three girls and one in four boys will be sexually assaulted by the age of 18,” said Penny Lopez, Equine Specialist with Barnabas Horse Foundation, an all volunteer nonprofit developed to encourage hope and healing through fellowship with horses.

After the Murrells Inlet resident retired from a 44 year banking career, she began using her lifelong love of horse to help local residents working to overcome the traumatic effects of abuse, rape and PTSD. “Barnabas Horse Foundation was founded in 2011, as the result of a child abuse case and our Director Sue McKinney’s interest in the growing progress with equine assisted therapy programs.”

“Horses respond to trauma,” Sue said when I asked about equine assisted therapy. “When our clients work with the horses, they learn new ways of responding.” Sue knows this well, as she was the victim of abuse at 4 years old. Today, this mother of five works tirelessly helping others gain the confidence to rebuild their lives after devastating trauma – and doesn’t even take a salary.

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“Clients are referred by their therapist,” began Sue. “And, the therapist accompanies them to the equine therapy sessions. First, the client chooses a horse, and sometimes this takes a while. Most are frightened in the beginning, but eventually something clicks and a bond is formed between human and horse. That’s when

the healing begins.” Therapy sessions include Equine Specialists like Penny, the therapist, the client and the horse. The client first learns to groom her horse and eventually is able to ride, assisted by the Equine Therapist. The clients learn “rhythmic riding,” done bareback to enhance the physical connection, and are asked to match their breathing to the horses’. The day Sasee visited, Sue led a mock therapy session with her sons, Charlie and Seth, to give us an idea of the process. Penny stood holding the horse’s head while Sue, posing as the therapist, guided Charlie through a series of exercises to encourage trust and mindfulness. The horse, Princess Sassy, was as gentle as a puppy with Charlie and appeared to enjoy the session.

I asked Penny to share one of her favorite success stories: We had four women from the Rape Crisis Center come to the farm and asked them to walk around and “choose” a horse that they would like to work with. None of them would come within fifty feet of the horses. There was one woman who was clearly fearful, not speaking a word, with her hands deep in her pockets. After 45 minutes, she still would not go near any of the horses. Then, all of a sudden, Charlie, a 1600 pound draft horse, blind in one eye with 30 years of varied history, walked up to her, put his head down for her to touch and showed her that he trusted her. The next week, our client, with a big smile, was leading Charlie around and grooming him. Not only had he gained her trust, she had gained his. Her progress

continues, and she is now in a loving relationship.

Penny also shared a wonderful story of a frightened child with extreme anxiety issues who chose the largest horse on the farm and has since made amazing progress. She now rides the huge horse with ease, and her parents report that her anxiety has greatly decreased at home. Horses are natural “therapists.”

The organization’s horses are magnificent, and I was thrilled to be able to interact with several while we visited. These gentle creatures seemed to know I was friendly, if untrained, and allowed me to come close and rub their beautiful coats. Barnabas Horse Foundation has horses of all sizes from a large draft horse, Tobie, to a family of miniature horses. All horses are donated and come from a variety of situations. “Horses do not ask or expect anything from us,” Penny told me. “They just want to feel safe and get along.

They have an extraordinary ability to read the body language of other horses and humans. You may think you’re acting normal, but if you are angry, impatient or stressed, your horse will know it.

The therapists use the horse’s reaction to their clients interactions to surface feelings that otherwise might not come out.”

Penny has loved horses all of her life. The daughter of an Army officer, she moved around a lot growing up, living all over the United States, and in Ethiopia and Japan. She and her husband, John, have lived in Wachesaw Plantation since 1989 and have one

son who lives in Los Angeles. It wasn’t until the age of 40 that Penny was finally able to realize her dream of having her own horse.

“Since then, I’ve owned four horses and currently have a four year old American Quarter Horse mare. I enjoy training and trail riding with my horse friends.”

Penny has been active with Barnabas Horse Foundation since 2014, working two days a week not only helping clients, but mucking stalls, grooming horses, digging post holes for fencing, mowing fields, feeding horses and helping with fundraising events.

This organization is her passion.

“No one is born emotionally wounded,” Penny began. “There is wide proof that horses help humans heal. The therapy at Barnabas Horse Foundation is free of charge. We currently work with abused and traumatized children, women in crisis and veterans. The foundation is run by volunteers and everything is donated. We survive on donations, fundraisers and grants. with all of the labor donated by our volunteers.”

Barnabas Horse Foundation is currently accepting new volunteers for a variety of positions. Donations are greatly appreciated!

Supporters may also adopt a horse, donate farm equipment or help with fundraisers. To find out more, contact Sue or Penny at 843-2413331 or visit www.barnabashorse.org.

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Voice

Committed

by Rose Ann Sinay

“You can always look them up on Facebook,” my daughter said after I told her another one of my old, high school stories with my daring partners- in-crime.

Though the tales were funny, it made me nostalgic and sad. I never saw those friends again.

I sat down at my computer. I decided to do the “Facebook thing”. It could be a secret window to check in on my old sidekicks, to see how their lives had turned out. I also wouldn’t mind seeing if the only boy who ever broke up with me still had all of his hair. I hoped not.

“You don’t have to commit to a lifetime of unwanted photos and information, if you just want to check them out.”

I typed in a name, and then another, before remembering my friends’ last names would have changed. I had no idea what their married names were now and probably had been for the past forty years. The high school websites were no help, unless I wanted to pay a fee. I didn’t. Besides, with the internet at my fingertips, how could I not find someone?

“I wouldn’t want anyone to think I was snooping,” I said.

My daughter laughed. “Well, you are, but no one can tell. Just don’t click on like or let your mouse hover over the friend request too long. And if you do, so what? They would probably be thrilled to hear from you . . . a blast from the past. Isn’t that the idea?”

“Maybe,” I said, already creating a mental list of people whom I hadn’t seen since ninth grade. I had attended several high schools over those years and lost track of the friends who filled my adolescent memories.

My father’s assignment to Eglin Air Force Base (Fort Walton Beach, Florida) had been an exciting one. Magical summers spent surfing on the ocean waves, tanning in the sun (before we knew it was bad for us), with a bunch of friends on the cusp of self discovery. It was the most unforgettable time in my teenaged life.

Strong friendships were created as we rushed headlong into young adulthood, together. Back then, we weren’t a crew or a clique; we were just a group of good kids, latching onto something solid in our ever-changing lives.

We often gathered at the 7-Eleven after school where we chugged Cherryflavored Slurpees and screeched as the brain freezes set in. We carpooled to the beach in bikinis that showed off our oil-slathered, sunburned bodies. The girls watched the boys through partially closed eyes, pretending to be asleep on our towels. We scrutinized their every movement, every flirtation--wondering if we would still be a couple the next day. But it didn’t matter; we had each other.

It was a time of firsts: my first kiss, first detention (because of that innocent smooch) and our first basement parties.

Though our relationships were fleeting, those friends were part of my comingof-age. Young adults, like me, whose families traveled from one place to another-- living one year here, two years there. Sadly, we didn’t keep in touch like we promised. We’d call and write, we swore with tear in our eyes. There had been a few months of letters--newsy letters with all the juicy gossip. And then . . . nothing, as they moved on themselves. In my mind, I can still picture our group, young and full of bravado. I remembered “us.” Did they?

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I typed in an old boyfriend’s name; it wouldn’t have changed. Nor had it changed for all the many other Robert D. Joneses* on Facebook. I clicked on more than a few of them. None of the small pictures posted on their pages even resembled the Robert of old (*name changed to protect the...innocent).

On to the next. Again, the list was long. Who knew the tag Reggie Tyler* was so popular? I couldn’t find one associated with Florida. I was discouraged; it was suppose to be easy to connect. Unfortunately, it appeared that my old friends were less social-media conscious than me. An age thing, I supposed.

A few more tries. Perhaps if I typed in more information -- I added Fort Walton Beach to a name. Bingo! The Alice in the profile picture was spot on.

Her hair was longer and blonde; she’d been a mousy brown way back when. But there she was, the same person that had been freaked out by the Ouija Board at a slumber party, and offered bad advice when we broke up with our boyfriends.

The few pictures on her page were scenic views, and little else. There was no friend button--just a place to send a message.

It took about fifteen minutes to create my “Hi, you probably don’t remember me” note and another fifteen to send it.

I admit-- I’ve checked Facebook more than a few times, hoping for a response.

It’s been a couple of weeks now. I feel like a little kid waiting for a gift. I hope I hear from Alice -- I’d love to re-hash those old times, hear how her life has turned out, and let her know she hasn’t been forgotten.

Until then, I’ll keep searching. I’ll even leave my name and ask to be a friend. I’m ready to commit.

Rose Ann Sinay Rose Ann Sinay is a freelance writer typing away in sunny North Carolina.

Her articles/stories have been published in The Carolinas Today, The Oddville Press and The Brunswick Beacon.

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Finance Family-Style

Profiles

Debi Burroughs The Citizen’s Bank

Tell us a little about yourself.

I am the City Executive for The Citizens Bank Georgetown Market. I also serve as a director on the boards of Burroughs & Chapin Company, Inc., Burroughs Company, Inc., and Chapin Company, Inc. in addition to the Coastal Carolina University Spadoni College of Education Board of Visitors. My hometown is Conway. I moved to the Murrells Inlet area in 1990 after attending college at USC – Coastal Carolina where I pursued degrees in both business and psychology.

Later, I completed my MBA at Winthrop University. Conway is a special place to me, and my parents still live there today. I have many great childhood memories.

Does your best friend have two legs or four?

I have two best friends, one with two legs and one with four – My sister, Georgia, who was named after my great grandmother and Mr. Banks, my cat. I can count on both when I need a sounding board.

Why do you think cats make such great friends and companions?

Pets give such unconditional love. Mr. Banks is there when I get home and gives me a lot of comfort. He hangs out with me every minute I’m home. He is a silly cat and loves to run, jump and swat around the house. It is hilarious! We play chase together – he is so much like a dog! I have had Mr. Banks since he was four weeks old – he is a rescue cat from the humane society. Even though he is strictly an indoor cat, he loves watching the birds and squirrels from the window and will run from one to the other to follow them around the yard.

What is your favorite thing to do with your women friends?

Why do you think these friendships are so important?

Every year my sister and I, along with two others, go on a special girls’ trip. My favorite trip was when we went to Costa Rica. We went shopping, took a waterfall tour and even went zip-lining! I think it is important to take that time to bond with friends. We are all so busy, and a vacation together gives us time to catch up and relax. I believe it is so important to be there for family and friends – they are the ones who are always there for us when we need them. Plus we make time to do fun things together that we don’t get a chance to do throughout the year.

What do you love about working for The Citizens Bank?

What makes it a great choice for our banking needs?

I will have been with Citizens Bank two years in October, but have been in banking for over 25 years with a background in Commercial Banking, Wealth Management Banking, Consumer and Mortgage Banking. The Citizens Bank is like a family. For us, it’s all about our relationships with businesses and individuals. We have the freedom to help our customers – if it makes sense, let’s do it!

The Citizens Bank has been in operation for 72 years and is where community counts and customer service is our priority. With an ever increasing network of branches and an array of modern financial products available, we still operate upon the same principals of service and commitment that it was founded on in 1943. Solid Traditions, Smart Solutions. We have a great team in our Coastal Region that collectively has over a total of 133 years of banking experience.

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We offer a comprehensive mix of Consumer, Commercial, and Mortgage services to meet the needs of our customers. I love the closeness of our banking family and having the ability to assist our customers with all of their financial needs!

Contact Debi at the Pawleys Island branch of The Citizens Bank, located at 10769 Ocean Highway or call 843-237-5777. Locally, The Citizens Bank has branch offices in Georgetown and Myrtle Beach, as well as various other locations within the state of South Carolina, www.thecitizensbank.cc.

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29

My Geriatric Vacation

Voice

by Diane Stark

“I’ve got a great idea for your mom’s birthday present,” I told my husband, Eric.

“Her friend, Sue, moved to Florida last year, and she really misses her. We should send her down there for her birthday gift.”

It was refreshing in that way that touches your soul and brings tears to your eyes.

It reminded me how rare and precious true friendship is, and how blessed we are when we find it -- even when many years or many miles separate us.

But Eric shook his head. “She wouldn’t go. She’d be too nervous to travel by herself.”

The next day, we took another boat ride, this time to an island to hunt for shells.

On the way to the island, a pod of dolphins played just a few feet from our boat.

We found tons of beautiful shells and sand dollars. As I walked on that island, I thought it would be the best part of the trip.

“I know, and that’s why I’m going with her.” I shrugged. “I love your mom, and I love Sue too. It would be really fun.”

Sue was my mother-in-law’s friend first, but she and I became fast friends as well.

Despite a 25-year age difference, Sue and I just click. We are both writers, and we both met our husbands on the dating website eHarmony. A few years ago, Sue and I attended a writer’s conference together, and we had a blast. Sadly, her husband passed away in 2011, and she moved to Florida to be closer to her children. My mother-in-law had been talking about visiting her ever since.

When we told Judy about the birthday trip, she was thrilled. She even suggested inviting her sister, Barb, who was also recently widowed.

So it was decided. The three of us would fly down to Florida to visit Sue. Several people told me that it was sweet of me to accompany the ladies on their trip, and I jokingly dubbed it “my geriatric vacation.” Yep, at 41 years old, I was going to cruise around Florida with three senior citizens. I expected it to be fun, but in a quiet, relaxing sort of way.

I was wrong. It was fun in the best sort of way.

Sue picked us up at the airport and although we hadn’t seen one another in more than two years, our friendship picked up right where we’d left off. We talked into the wee hours that first night.

The next day, we walked downtown and shopped. Not for clothes or souvenirs, but for attractive older men for our two single ladies.

“Look at him,” I’d say. “He’s a nice-looking guy.”

“Him? He’s too old for either of us,” they’d say.

“But he looks about 70,” I’d say. “How old do you want him to be?”

“We don’t care how old he is,” they’d say. “We care how old he acts.”

I nodded, but I didn’t really understand. But as the days went on, it became clear to me. These ladies might have been pushing 70, but they weren’t old.

We took an airboat ride and spotted several gators and dozens of bird species.

We laughed at one another’s wind-blown hair after the ride.

We had a seafood lunch and went shopping -- for clothes this time. I bought a dress that was so-not-me because these ladies told me to. I even bought the matching shoes.

That night, we took a walk around the lake at Sue’s condominium complex. It was a beautiful trail, and the walk gave us more time to talk about things that really matter. Things like love, and self-image and finding purpose in life. Important things, no matter how old you are.

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Again, I was wrong.

On the last day of my stay, we went to a manatee park. I love manatees, and it was really neat to see them, but it still wasn’t the best part of my trip.

We did fun things and ate yummy food. We relaxed and enjoyed God’s creation.

It was an amazing trip.

But the most amazing part wasn’t what we did. It was the lessons those ladies taught me.

I went on a trip with three women, each old enough to be my mother. But it wasn’t that way. They gave me advice, but as friends, not maternal figures. We enjoyed girl talk, and I never felt like anything but “one of the girls.”

We were four friends on a trip together. I had a blast, and I couldn’t have enjoyed myself any more had I gone with women my own age.

The trip wasn’t what I’d expected. I knew I’d have fun, but I never guessed how much.

I went on the trip to help my mother-in-law, but I never realized how much I’d learn myself.

I learned that when choosing friends, age shouldn’t be a consideration. Those ladies showed me that age really is just a number, and although cliché, you really are as young as you feel.

I learned that life goes on, no matter what your age, and it’s never too late to start over.

I’ve always known how lucky I am to have a wonderful relationship with my mother-in-law. She’s a lovely woman who raised eight great kids. She’s been married for 51 years, and she is now caring for her ailing husband. I’ve always admired her and been grateful to her for teaching my husband how to treat a woman.

But on that trip, I watched her interact with her friend and her sister. I saw her as more than just my husband’s mother and my children’s grandmother.

My geriatric vacation turned out completely different than I thought it would.

What started out as a gift for my mother-in-law turned into a blessing for me.

The blessing of a renewed friendship and two new ones.

Diane Stark

Diane Stark is a wife and mom of five. She loves to write about her family and her faith. Her essays have been published in over 20 Chicken Soup for the Soul books.

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Profiles

Party of Five Amy Bunn

The Joggling Board Tell us a little about your family.

I’ve lived in the area for most of my life. My husband, Rob, and I were high school sweethearts and have been married 23 years. We were married ten years before we started our family, but now we are the Bunn “Party of Five”– our children are Rion, Rivers and Lily. Lily was named after my grandmother, Lillian, NOT Lilly Pulitzer! [laughing] Our family also includes two dogs, a blond lab, Belle and a little Maltese, Bentley [pictured with Lily and Amy], a hamster and several fish!

Does your best friend have two legs or four?

Two – my best friend is my twin sister, Carrie, who lives in Murrells Inlet. People used to mix us up, but I don’t think we look as much alike as we did as children.

It was fun growing up with my best friend. Carrie has Bentley’s sister – my mother gave them to us last Christmas. I also have two brothers –one lives in Georgia and one is in North Carolina.

Why do you think dogs make such great friends and companions?

They love you unconditionally and don’t care if your breath smells, your feet stink or your hair is greasy! I’ve never had a tiny dog like Bentley before, and I just adore him. I can carry him with me everywhere, and he’s always up for a cuddle! I’ve always had dogs, though, and can’t imagine life without them.

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What is your favorite thing to do with your women friends?

Why do you think these friendships are so important?

I don’t have enough girls’ nights out. We are all always so busy with our careers and families. If we do get together it’s usually for a Christian concert, and we always involve the kids. Our women friends are so important – we lean on them and they lean on us. I do it all the time and call it throwing up! I “throw up” on them and they “throw up” on me! Our friends keep us sane and confirm that we are all normal – some of us are more normal than others, but it really is okay -- we all have stuff to deal with!

What’s new and exciting at The Joggling Board?

We celebrated 25 years at Oak Lea last year – right after remodeling the store (with lots of blood, sweat and tears!). We now have the best of both worlds – a huge selection of clothing and accessories, for boys and girls, and Lilly Pulitzer for everyone! Need I say more? We are a family here at the Joggling Board and it shows!

The Joggling Board is located at 11096 Ocean Highway in Pawleys Island.

Contact Amy at 843-237-2631 or visit thejogglingboard.com.

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35

Soul Conversations Chris Richardson Kangaroo Pouch

Tell us a little about your family.

I am married to Matt Richardson who grew up in Conway, South Carolina.

We relocated to Myrtle Beach from Charleston after getting married 13 years ago. We have an energetic six year old, Braxton. And we recently added to our family with a Golden Doodle puppy, Marcus.

Does your best friend have two legs or four?

While Marcus has quickly become a companion to Braxton, my best friends have two legs.

Why do you think dogs make such great friends and companions?

Dogs are amazing. No matter what sort of day you have had, Marcus is always excited to see us. But the best part for me is watching Braxton become so close with him. Marcus is not the smallest of dogs, and we are still training him not to jump on furniture and other behavior courtesies, but he has brought love to our house that we had no idea was missing. Even if at times I feel like a small horse lives with us. [laughing] What is your favorite thing to do with your women friends?

Why do you think these friendships are so important?

I enjoy so many things with my girlfriends and their families. I work out in the mornings with a group of women that are amazing inspirations to me. I also LOVE a good girls’ night. Just to be able to take a couple of hours away from reality and spend it with women that uplift you can do a lot for your soul. Dinner and a glass of wine are nice, but the conversations are what keep me going. I have found that women that uplift each other are crucial in life.

We are given one chance at life and there is no sense in going through it alone -- good friends are a must!

What’s new and exciting at Kangaroo Pouch?

The Kangaroo Pouch is making a big move this month. We are moving our main store from Mr. Joe White Ave to 40th Ave North on Kings Highway.

We are excited about a new location to better serve our customers. We have started selling a wider variety of youth furniture as well as the newest in nursery furniture. Our fully upholstered gliders have become a hot item for non nurseries as well. We continue to seek out the latest in the nursery and youth world in order to bring the best to Myrtle Beach. This has to be the most fun job. Where else do you get to help new parents pick items out and then see them in use with the sweetest little miracles? I truly enjoy coming to work each and every day!

Contact Chris at 843-839-0990 or 843-839-2958.

Visit her new location at 40th Avenue North on Kings Highway in Myrtle Beach or her Market Common location at 3320 Reed Street. Kangaroo Pouch is open Monday-Friday 10 am-6 pm and Saturday 10 am-6 pm.

36

Profiles

We’re packing our pouch and hopping over to 40th Ave! Make sure you visit us at our new location by September 1st.

In the meantime, stop by our Mr.Joe White Ave and Market common locations for all of your back-to-school gear!

961 Mr. Joe White Ave. (10th Ave. N.) Myrtle Beach 843-839-0990 Mon.- Fri. 10 am-6 pm Sat. 10 am-5 pm

The Market Common 3320 Reed Street Myrtle Beach 843-839-2958 Mon.-Sat. 10 am-9 pm Sun. 11-7 pm

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37

Voice

Pussyfooting Pals

by Diane DeVaughn Stokes

We would all agree that our pets give us more love than we could ever give them.

I once heard a friend say that he wished that he were as good as his dog thinks he is. I feel that way about my two white adult kitties adopted from local shelters. They look at me with adoring eyes and hearts overflowing with love each and every day, the same way Chuck looked at me on our wedding night!

(And most of the time still does!)

Yet, I don’t buy the thought process that animals don’t think and feel the same way we do. Many think that their brains do not work like ours. I adamantly don’t agree.

When mine are hungry they let me know with a lavish deep “meow” much different than their normal soft purr. When mine are happy they acknowledge it with rubbing themselves all over me, so that sooner rather than later I have more cat hair on me than they they do. Yes, I wear a lot of black clothing, and all of my black pants have layers of white fur on the lower four inches of fabric. I have a lint roller in my car, in my office, in my husband’s car and in my laundry room. You cat lovers know what I talking about.

Every time we are going on an out of town trip, they freak out at the sight of the suitcase. They crawl in it while we are packing, and their dialect changes from their usual soft purr to an exorcist type howl that would scare the living daylights out of a non-cat lover. I imagine that some of my neighbors, who I often ask to feed them when we are gone, dread the chore.

My calico, “Tosca” remains loveable and sweet I am told, but my longhaired “Sonya” turns into the cat from hell, hissing at

38

anyone who comes near her. Thankfully, I have never seen this side of her. To me she is an angel. She is my precious shadow who follows me everywhere. I can’t even shut the bathroom door without her wanting to be inside. Now that is pure unadulterated love.

I don’t care about the cat poop I scoop each morning, or the hair balls stuck on the sun-room sofa or the big chunk of the budget spent on litter, food and vet bills. I don’t even care that after having cats my entire adult life I have developed an allergy to my babies. Constant sinus infections have led to daily meds, and for a talk-show host that is never good. However, as I told the doctor, they aren’t going anywhere. They are here to stay.

They brighten my life more than I could ever tell you. They greet me at the back door when I come home each day. They are in my lap the moment I sit down. They listen to me when I tell them intimate stuff that I would not admit to anyone else.

And those of you who, like me, do not have kids will agree, that they offer me a chance to use all those pent-up motherly instincts.

As the song says, “For the good times and bad times, I’ll be on your side for evermore. That’s’ what friends are for.” And even though I have some of the greatest two legged friends in the world, my two little four-legged darlings are simply “purrrfect.”

I count them among my dearest of friends. Who else would want to hover around the toilet while I’m doing my business?

Diane DeVaughn Stokes Diane is the Host and Producer for “Diane At Six” on EASY Radio and “Inside Out” on HTC channel 4. She and her husband own Stages Video Productions in Myrtle Beach.

Diane is also the author of Floating on Air – A Broadcasting Love Affair, found on Amazon.com.

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Voice

My Charming Friends

by Linda O’Connell

In the late 1950s, when charm bracelets were the in thing, classmates huddled at recess and fawned over their newest decorative silver charms. I listened to their happy chatter and jangling bracelets: “Horses are my favorite; and I also like ice skating. I received this ballerina for my birthday.”

I hoped. The two new couples were about our age, but sadly both families spoke little or no English, and although we all made an effort to be neighborly, communication was difficult for all of us. No back fence neighbor for me to share tidbits with.

Examining charm bracelets was like reading today’s bumper stickers. Girls wore their interests and their heart’s desires on their wrists. I had no means of advertising. My family could not afford a silver link bracelet, much less individual charms. I yearned to feel the weight of a charm bracelet on my arm. I wanted to add to the collective melody. I imagined my charms clinking across my desk as I did my math and wrote compositions. But it wasn’t to be. By the time I could afford to purchase my own charm bracelet, they were no longer in vogue.

My female work associates were younger with small children. We laughed at work, but when I came home, I longed for that old feeling of sharing a cup of “gossip coffee” with the gal next door.

Over the years I have owned every kind of bracelet imaginable: macramé friendship bracelets, real gold bracelets, jeweled, beaded bangles and colorful stretchy wrist bands to announce my support and/or affiliation. I have a weakness for bracelets. I own junky, clunky, delicate and expensive ones. No matter, I’ve always secretly ached for that young girl’s charm bracelet.

I was delighted in the 1980s when I discovered a silver “wish” bracelet with one charm, a miniature silver box that actually opened. The wearer could print a wish on a tiny scrap of paper and stuff it into the box. It was more appropriate for my preteen daughter who rejected it. Goodness knows she’d have worn out the teeny clasp on the box as often as she changed her mind.

So, I declared that cheap piece of jewelry my charm bracelet. I didn’t write my wishes in miniature print, but I did whisper my wishes into that little box.

When my friend developed terminal cancer, I wished for her healing and then to prolong her life. When my kids fought, I wished for peace. I wished for everything from a new car to a new job. I visualized my wishes as charms. That bracelet seemed to get heavier with every whispered wish. After my divorce I wished to meet a compatible, nice man. My wish came true. I wished for a healthy granddaughter, and my wish was granted. Like an omen, my bracelet broke after my best friend passed away, and I left it in a heap in the bottom of my jewelry box.

My children grew up. I remarried and started a new life. My new husband and I are best friends, but it isn’t the same as having a back door girlfriend with whom to share life’s joys and sorrows. As happy as I was in my new marriage, I was equally unhappy not having a best female friend anymore.

When we bought our house in a comfortable residential neighborhood; I just knew I would find her. Out of habit, I lifted my bare wrist and whispered a wish when we moved in. Unfortunately, our neighbors were very elderly, and we had little in common. Years passed, and eventually the neighbors on either side passed away. Each time the “For Sale” signs went up on the lawn,

40

Then it occurred to me that I could hand-select my new best friends. I chose four women of varying ages. I had met each of them at different times at writing events. I invited them to form a writer’s critique group with me.

We came from all ends of town to gather twice a month at a local bookstore to read and critique one another’s work. We were a bit awkward at first, very formal, and we conducted our meetings in a businesslike manner. Then one of the women, Sioux, accidentally pulled a chair out from under me as she politely offered, “I don’t mind sitting in this wooden chair; please take the soft arm chair.” Her tongue-in-cheek sense of humor led to blog posts with hilarious headlines about the incident.

At the next meeting, Tammy mentioned internet dating sites. We spent our first half hour discussing what “pieces of work” some guys can be, rather than discussing our works-in-progress.

At the following meeting, Beth, the youngest member of our group, shared her life stories which sent us all into giggle fits.

Lynn opened up and invited us into her home. She knew we couldn’t continue at the public bookstore carrying on as we had been. Now, twice a month my new friends and I meet at Lynn’s for writing group. We take turns bringing food. Our first hour is informal, devoted to sharing delectable desserts and details of our lives. We laugh until our sides hurt and our facial muscles ache. We are fresh, frank and funny. Each of has a signature personality. Our meetings have been beneficial, and we have all been published as a result of our joint efforts. More than that, we have connected on a deeply personal and supportive level.

I still don’t have a back door woman friend, but when I walk through Lynn’s front door every other Wednesday and see my charming friends, I feel like a young girl at recess showing off her jewels. They have no idea that I regard them as priceless charms on my imaginary bracelet.

Linda O’Connell Linda O’Connell is an accomplished writer and seasoned teacher from St. Louis, Missouri. Her work appears in several issues of Sasee and 22 Chicken Soup for the Soul anthologies. A positive thinker, she writes from the heart, bares her soul and finds humor in everyday situations. Linda enjoys a hearty laugh, dark chocolate and the beach. She blogs at http://lindaoconnell.blogspot.com.

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Voice

Mary

by Celia Colby The nursing home smelled like urine and death. I felt out of place standing in the foyer in my cheerful polka dot skirt and red ballet flats.

“So you’re interested in volunteering?” The overly-perky community coordinator in front of me went on to say, “That’s wonderful; it’s great to see young people trying to connect with an older generation.”

“Do you want to see what they’re doing in the activity room?” I asked.

I smiled politely. “Well I’ve always loved hearing my grandparents’ stories.” I failed to mention the part about how I was required to do community service for school.

“Nah, those crafts are for sissies,” she said, fiddling with her chair.

“If I wanted to glue colored paper onto popsicle sticks I would’ve gone back to preschool.”

“Excellent. We’ll put you down for visiting then. Why don’t we start you off with Mary?”

I smiled. I admired Mary’s easy ability to speak her mind. Why keep it to yourself? She always said. We’re all here to die anyway.

I nodded and followed her down the slightly off-white hallway. Undoubtedly it was supposed to be “eggshell” or “crème” but it just looked dirty: Dirty and sad.

“Do you take Latin?” she asked me early on.

She led me into a room with two beds. Both were empty, but a woman in a wheelchair sat with her back to us, looking out the window.

She shook her head at me. “You really should take Latin. No education is complete without understanding the basis of all languages.”

“Go on in and introduce yourself. You can stay as long as you’d like,” Perky said before rushing off to rope in the next volunteer.

I nodded. “You’re right; I should at least know some of the root words.”

I stood awkwardly in the door for a few seconds.

“You should know the language,” she said, looking me right in the eyes, smiling but serious.

“Uh, excuse me?” I said. Nothing. “Excuse me,” louder.

Slowly she wheeled herself around.

“Did you say something?” she asked. She had snow-white hair, still a good head of it, and bright blue eyes. Her face was a splotchy red, and she held her hands clasped in her lap.

“Yes. I’m volunteering here, and I’ve been assigned to you. I’m Celina.”

She looked me up and down, assessing. “You really should speak up. No one will take you seriously without a commanding voice.”

She turned back to the window.

That was how I met Mary.

The next week she didn’t apologize, her Irish pride wouldn’t allow for that, but she did offer to share her pudding cup with me, and that was enough.

Her room was the same ugly white color as the hallway. It featured

42

two rolling beds divided by a curtain and a built-out set of cabinets in a muddy brown. Mary’s bed was by the only window. She had a portrait of her son and a crucifix on the wall. We spent almost all of our time in that room, watching old TV shows and checking the status of the bird feeder outside.

“No, I take Spanish.”

“How do you say ‘I will learn Latin?’”

“Ego Latiné discere cupiant.”

I repeated carefully, “Ego Latiné discere cupiant.”

At 2 pm every week we went out for her smoke break. I wheeled her down the hall and out the backdoor while she yelled jokes and riffs at the nurses.

“Cut your hair for God’s sake, you look like a hippie!”

“What time are we getting dinner tonight? I’m already hungry from lunch.”

“Why are you still here? Go home, you work too hard!”

A group of five or so patients would assemble on the small concrete patio outside for a half hour every day. I stood next to Mary in the frigid, New England winter, five wheelchairs in a circle and myself, in my pink tights and white coat, nodding along while they talked

about “the war.” Eventually the conversation would turn to me.

“Celina is an excellent student,” Mary would say. “She’s in all honors courses, and she’s going to take up Latin.”

The others would nod approvingly and assess me while they took a collective drag.

“You’re dressed up real nice,” one of them said. “You going to a wedding?”

“She always looks nice,” Mary pitched in. “She’s a very classy girl.”

She would never compliment me to my face -- that could go to a girl’s head. But it was during the smoke breaks that I started to understand how much my visits meant.

where he sat on his bed. He leaned down and kissed her. “How you doing, baby?”

She turned to me. “This is my boyfriend, John.”

“Mary!” I fake-scolded. “All this time you’ve been seeing a boy!”

She laughed. “Well I might as well have a little fun around here.”

After our rounds we exchanged gifts. She gave me a blue and yellow plaid scarf, and I gave her a box of specialty chocolates for her stash. While we sampled the chocolates and gossiped about her new roommate, I couldn’t help but be amazed. Sixty someodd years between us, and this woman was still one of my dearest friends.

After about ten minutes of talking a restful silence would fall on the group. When Mary was finished she would hand me her cigarette, and I would put it out in the nearby ashtray. We all sat for a while, smoke puffing up and hanging in the cold air, the snow piles around us black with grime. I put my hand on Mary’s hand, and she squeezed it and smiled.

After Christmas she gave me the December report. Roberta, Charles and Hector had died. Roberta had been in the smoking group, so that day at 2 pm we held a makeshift memorial for her.

Sitting in the circle we all held hands and said our last words to her.

Mary recited a brief prayer. Even in the midst of death I still never considered that it could happen to her. It’s funny how we can be so close to something and still not see it.

One day after the smoke break as we watched the original Hawaii 5-0, I broached the subject.

In the fall I went off to college. I still called Mary with some frequency and thought of her often. My school didn’t offer Latin, and I knew she’d be furious if she found out.

“Does your son come visit much?”

“Not often. He’s very busy.” She didn’t look at me.

I was sitting on her bed. She sat in her chair looking at the screen.

“He’s missing out,” I said, trying to lighten the mood.

“It gets very lonely,” she admitted. “Knowing we’re all here just waiting for the end.”

On the screen they were catching the bad guy, cuffing him and high-fiving each other.

On Christmas Eve I put on my Santa hat and prepped for the perfect night. I put together a picnic basket with all the trappings of an elaborate tea. Delicate china cups, cookies of all sorts, little finger sandwiches. I also brought her present, a framed picture of us from the Christmas before.

When I got to her room she wasn’t there. That’s odd, I thought.

She must have moved.

“Excuse me, I’m looking for Mary. Do you know what room she moved to?” I asked a nearby nurse.

“Mary,” I said.

“I’m not sure where she is,” she said. “Why don’t you ask the front desk?” It struck me as strange but I thought maybe she was new.

She turned her chair towards me. “Yes?”

“Hi, I’m looking for Mary,” I told the woman up front, putting on my best help-me smile.

“How do you say ‘I love you’ in Latin?”

She grabbed my hand and squeezed.

“Te amo.”

On Christmas Eve Mary and I became the official spreaders of holiday cheer. Dressed in matching Santa hats we went from room to room dropping off red and white carnations. Mary knew everyone.

“Merry Christmas!” She crowed as we rolled into a room at the opposite end of the home.

“Well my, my, if it isn’t the most beautiful damsel in all of New Hampshire,” said a surprisingly handsome and agile man from

“Oh dear, I’m sorry,” she said. “She died.”

I don’t remember leaving or driving home. I didn’t ask any of the important questions. How did she go? When? Was she in pain?

In my living room I crumpled. I wasn’t family, but I couldn’t believe they hadn’t called. For two years I had visited Mary every week, and they hadn’t called. I clutched the photograph of us, still wrapped in cheerful holiday paper, and visualized those bright eyes, that serious smile. Te amo. Te amo. Te amo.

Celina Colby Celina Colby is a Boston based writer and the founder of the style blog “Trends and Tolstoy.”

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august2015 2 9 16 23 30

1-29

Farmers Markets, Saturdays,

2-30

3 10 17 24 31

4 11 18 25

5 12 19 26

1-9/20

6 13 20 27

1 7 8 14 15 21 22 28 29

5-26

Fun for Kids at Myrtle Beach Norman Rockwell’s Tom State Park, Tuesday – Saturday, Sawyer and Huckleberry various nature programs, most free with Finn exhibit at the Art Museum of

Concerts in the Gazebo in Village Park,Sunset Beach,

park admission. For more info, call 843-238-5325 or visit www.southcarolinaparks.com.

Myrtle Beach, 3100 S. Ocean Blvd. For more info, call 843-238-2510 or visit www.myrtlebeachartmuseum.org.

5-26

6, 20

6-27

6-28

Wednesdays, Huntington Beach State Park, bring binoculars and field guide.

For more information, call 843-235-8755.

Marion Park, Georgetown, 6-9 pm, free. Series, Thursdays, Main St., North Myrtle Beach, 7-9 pm. For more info, For more info, visit call 843-280-5570 or visit www.hammockcoastsc.com. www.nmbevents.com.

10 am - 3 pm in Market Common.

For more info, call 843-839-3500 or visit www.marketcommonmb.com; 8 am – 1 pm, Screven Street, Georgetown.

For more info, visit www.hammockcoastsc.com.

Coastal Birding, 10-11am,

Music in the Park, Francis

Music on Main Concert

Wednesdays, 6:30 pm – 8:30 pm.

For more info, call 910-579-1016. for more info.

Ingram Planetarium Laser Light Shows, laser light display set to classic rock and country music, Thurs., Fri., 6 pm, 7 pm, 8 pm each night, 7625 High Market St., Sunset Beach, NC. For more info, call 910-575-0033 or visit www.museumplanetarium.org.

7 7-28 21 9/4-5

Ross Holmes Band (standards, big band), 7 pm, Brookgreen Gardens’ Cool Summer Evenings, free with garden admission. For more info, call 843235-6000 or visit www.brookgreen.org.

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Ocean Isle Concert Series,

Fridays, 6:30-8 pm, Museum of Coastal Carolina parking lot, E. Second St., Ocean Isle Beach, N.C. For more info, call 910-579-6030. www.brunswicklittletheatre.com.

Moveable Feast, Kim Boykin dis- Beach Boogie and BBQ cusses A Peach of a Pair, 11 am, Inlet Festival, Market Common. For Affairs, $25. For more info, call 843235-9600 or visit www.classatpawleys. com.

more info, call 843-626-7444, or visit www.visitmyrtlebeach.com.

Security, at your fingertips.

Your “Campus Essentials” Headquarters!

• Commercial & Residential Security • Remote SecurityReal Time Video Monitoring • Camera Systems UL Listed 24 Hour Monitoring • Audio/Video and Home Theater Systems www.strandsecuritysystems.com

843-318-6392

Palmetto Ace Home Center 8317 S. Ocean Highway Pawleys Island, SC 29585 (843) 235-3555 www.palmettoace.com

D ECKS • S IDEWALKS • W INDOWS B RICKS • V INYL • P LANT F RIENDLY!

Foreign • Domestic • Cars • Trucks • SUVs

Carolina Car Care

For All Your Automotive Repair & Maintenance Needs

B USY B EE P OWER WASHING 843.314.4447 910.234.5866 Licensed & Insured

Bob & Myra Levine, Owners

Locally Owned & Operated!

860 Inlet Square Drive Full t Keep I Murrells Inlet S e rvice ! l a Loc

DONT BEE STUNG BY HIGH PRICES!

843-357-0862

45 45

Join us for great specialty drinks, craft beers & Great PDQ teas Fresh brisket burgers, delicious Certified Angus Beef steaks and locally caught seafood!

Pastries and desserts prepared daily by our in-house pastry chef!

My Sister’s Books

Join us for our

Dogs Days of Summer Open House Authentic Smokehouse Barbecue and Locally-Sourced Lowcountry Favorites

Great PeeDee Q

843-314-3928 • 251 Willbrook Boulevard, Pawleys Island, SC 29585 11am-10pm 7 days a week • extended bar hours

Wednesday Aug 26th, 2015

Free Gift With Purchase of Dog Book! *Free people treats as well, including ice cream!

Open Mon-Sat 10am-6pm • 843-235-9618 13057 Ocean Hwy, Unit C Pawleys Island SC info@mysistersbooks.com www.mysistersbooks.com

www.greatpeedeeq.com

Vintage & Shabby Chic Home Décor

The Oasis Shopping Center 2520 Hwy. 17 Business Garden City 817-235-6875 717-451-2856 2sisters@hotmail.com

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Antiques • Avon • Baby & Toddler Boutique • Collectibles • Country Decor Fabrics + Notions • Wood Products • Unique Handmade Crafts Handbags • Jewelry • Vintage Items • Glassware • WoodWick Candles

843-238-3622 • www.homespuncrafters.com 114-A Hwy. 17 N. • Surfside Shopping Center, Surfside Beach Mon - Fri: 9am to 6pm • Sat: 10am to 5pm • Sun: 1pm to 5pm

Calabash Garden TEA ROOM

& Gift Shop

Enjoy High Tea in a Quaint Cottage Setting Call for reservation

910.579.9500

Hours Wed. - Sat. 11:30am - 3:00pm 10152 Beach Dr., Calabash, NC 28467 www.CalabashGardenTeaRoom.com

94.5 The Tide.. ................................................................. 39 The Accessory Cottage.. .................................................... 28 B. Graham Interiors.. .......................................................... 9 Barbara’s Fine Gifts.......................................................... 25 Bienvenue Home............................................................. 29 Brookgreen Gardens.. ....................................................... 35 Busy Bee Power Washing.. ................................................ 45 Cabana Gauze. . ................................................................ 39 Callahan’s of Calabash. . ...................................................... 7 Calabash Garden Tea Room & Gift Shop. . ........................... 47 Carolina Car Care............................................................. 45 Centro Shoes................................................................... 41 CHD Interiors. . ................................................................... 3 Christopher’s Fine Jewelry. . .............................................. 47 The Citizens Bank............................................................ 27 Coastal Dance. . ................................................................ 27 The Crab Cake Lady.......................................................... 23 Currents.......................................................................... 28 David Grabeman, D.D.S., P.A............................................. 33 Dr. Sattele’s Rapid Weight Loss & Esthetic Centers.. ............ 31 Eleanor Pitts Fine Gifts & Jewelry..................................... 33 Fabric Decor & More.. ....................................................... 17

843-237-3773

11412 Ocean Highway, Pawleys Island www.christophersfinejewelry.com

Advertiser Index

Flamingo Porch............................................................... 34 Gordon Hunter’s custom Painting, Inc............................... 37 Grady’s Jewelers.............................................................. 11 Grand Strand Plastic Surgery.. .......................................... 21 Great Pee Dee Q. . ............................................................. 46 Gym Etiquette 101.. ......................................................... 23 Harry the Potter.............................................................. 29 The Hammock Shops Village.. ........................................... 11 Homespun Crafters Mall. . ................................................. 46 Homewatch Caregivers.. ................................................... 34 Joggling Board................................................................ 33 Kangaroo Pouch.............................................................. 37 Litchfield Dance Arts Academy......................................... 37 Menagerie.. ..................................................................... 10 Moonshine Beads............................................................ 10 My Sisters Books. . ............................................................ 46 Paint with a Passion.. ....................................................... 29 Palmetto Ace Home Center.. ............................................. 45 Pawleys Island Festival of Music and Art........................... 48 The Pink Cabana.............................................................. 24 The Pink Cabana.............................................................. 25 Plain & Fancy.................................................................. 37

Pounds Away. .................................................................. 28 RK Consignments & Interiors............................................ 35 Rose Arbor Fabrics & Interiors........................................... 25 Rosewood Manor House................................................... 41 Rustically Refined............................................................ 34 Sea Island Trading Company............................................... 2 Seven Seas Seafood......................................................... 35 Shades & Draperies. ......................................................... 15 The Shops at Tweaked...................................................... 23 Shop the Avenues....................................................... 24-25 Simply Divine.................................................................. 27 South Atlantic Bank........................................................... 5 Strand Security................................................................ 45 Studio 77........................................................................ 24 Sunset River Marketplace................................................. 15 Swamp Fox Art Gallery. .................................................... 34 Taz.................................................................................. 29 Tire Town........................................................................ 39 To Your Health................................................................. 23 Two Sisters with Southern Charm..................................... 46 The Walking Company...................................................... 13

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featuring Grammy Award Winning Artists:

AARON NEVILLE STEVE TYRELL MIKE FARRIS

AND THE

ROSELAND RHYTHM REVUE

as well as Squonk Opera • A.J. Croce • Natalie Douglas Ken Lavigne • Davis & Johnson and the Fabulous Equinox Orchestra • So Good For the Soul

S EPTEMBER 25 - O CTOBER 17, 2015 for tickets & information please visit www.pawleysmusic.com or call 843.626.8911 All musical acts to be held at The Reserve Golf Club of Pawleys Island