Sasee January 2013

January 2013 Priceless www.sasee.com

Peace begins with a

smile. – Mother Teresa

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HO ME FURN I S HI N GS & ACCESSOR IES • FAB R ICS • ANT IQUES • I N TER I O R DESI G N

featured articles

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January 2013 Volume 12, Issue 1

who’s who

Unchanging Change

Publisher Delores Blount Sales & Marketing Director Susan Bryant Editor Leslie Moore Account Executives Amanda Kennedy-Colie Erica Schneider Celia Wester Art Director Taylor Nelson Photography Director Patrick Sullivan Photography Intern Hailee Schlude Graphic Artist Scott Konradt Accounting Ronald Pacetti Administrative Assistant Barbara J. Leonard Executive Publishers Jim Creel Bill Hennecy Tom Rogers

by Susan Harvey

Vomit Phobia

by Melissa Face

A Family Wedding Followed by a Mystery Wedding

by Ann Ipock

In Search of Treasure

by Kim Seeley

Southern Snaps

by Connie Barnard

To Everything, There is a Season

by Erika Hoffman

Library in the Sky

by Rose Ann Sinay

The Mail Mix-Up

by Diane Stark

Just Blame it on Your Childhood

by Susan DeBow

Chilling Out Sonoma Style

by Diane DeVaughn Stokes

PO Box 1389 Murrells Inlet, SC 29576 fax 843-626-6452 • phone 843-626-8911 www.sasee.com • info@sasee.com I n T h is I ssue Read It! . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Sasee Gets Candid . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Letters to the Editor . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Sasee’s 2012 Circle of Love . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Women & Men Who Mean Business . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Polar Plunge . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Scoop on the Strand . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

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Sasee is published monthly and distributed free along the Grand Strand. For subscription info, see page 33. 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 © 2013. 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.

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www.sasee.com 5

contributing writers Connie Barnard traveled the world as a military wife and taught high school and college composition for over 30 years. She has been a regular contributor to Sasee since its first issue in 2002.

Susan DeBow is a writer/artist/motivational speaker. She now writes a blog at susandebow.wordpress.com and her art can be seen and purchased at www.susandebow.com. She looks forward to hearing from you.

letter from the editor Our “Read It” column has been a favorite of Sasee readers ever since Lisa Hamilton began writing it. Her thoughtful book choices coupled with her insightful comments have all of us rushing to the book store or our e-reader.

This month will be Lisa’s last column. Due to circumstances beyond her control, Lisa will be unable to continue writing our book reviews. Please join me in thanking her for a job well done – Bravo Lisa!

January is a time of beginnings and reflection, perfectly suited for defining our goals for the year, whether that means losing a few pounds, cleaning out that junky garage or making a life change that may impact us for years to come. The world didn’t end on December 21st (we all knew it wouldn’t right?), but maybe, as some suggest, a shift occurred – a shift that will gradually move us to find solutions for problems that now seem insurmountable.

One of our staff members, Barb Leonard, welcomed a new baby into her extended family in December. Her niece gave birth to a perfect baby boy named Oliver, whose brand new life reminds me that there is hope and promise for a good year ahead. I have decided to honor that promise, for Oliver and all the other little people who look to us for comfort, for protection, for love and, most of all, for hope. I will continue to hold a vision in my heart of peace and a bright future for us all.

cover artist

Melissa Face lives in Virginia with her husband, son and dog.

Her stories and essays have appeared in Chicken Soup for the Soul and Cup of Comfort. E-mail Melissa at writermsface@yahoo.com.

A native South Carolinian, Lisa Hamilton is the director of the First Presbyterian Church Preschool and Kindergarten. Of course she loves reading, but also finds time for cooking and walking her dog, Hurley.

Susan Harvey is a native South Carolinian, a retired college English instructor, and a humor writer. She recently completed her first mystery manuscript and is searching for an agent. Visit her website at www.susanharvey-writenow.com.

Erika Hoffman writes stories and essays. Most recently she has been published in the new series, Not Your Mother’s Book. Her story is in the first edition is titled NYMB…On Being a Woman.

This is an anthology of humorous personal essays.

Ann Ipock is an award-winning Southern humorist and speaker who writes for the Georgetown Times, Sasee and Columbia County Magazine. Ann lives in Wilmington, N.C., with her husband, Russell. Life is Short, I Wish I Was Taller (published October, 2010) completes the Life is Short trilogy. Contact Ann through her website, www.annipock.com.

Kim Seeley, a former librarian and English teacher, lives with her husband, Wayne, in Wakefield, Virginia. Her most recent story, “Amanda’s Jonquils,” can be found in Chicken Soup: Messages from Heaven. She loves to read, play the piano, travel and spend time with her grandson, Evan.

Gigi Chardonnay, by Sara Credito

Sara Credito operates w.i.n.k.

Art (whimsically inspired, naturally keen) in Pawleys Island. She paints daily and is inspired by the beauty and lifestyle of her chosen home. She began painting on glass, but now expresses her creativity on canvas.

While holding a strong personal belief in tackling tough issues and giving back to the community, Sara transmits into her works a feeling of whimsy and humor. Her fantastical depictions of trees, flowers, beaches, suns and moons capture local color with a lighthearted approach. He strokes reveal great fluidity and a curving free-flowing movement that often results in the viewer seeing various other images within her scenes.

To see more of her work, visit www.winkartinc.com, www.fineartamerica.com or call 843-235-3390.

6 www.sasee.com

Rose Ann Sinay lives in North Carolina with her husband and dog where she spends her time writing. Her children graciously continue to provide her with moments worth preserving.

Diane Stark is a former teacher turned stay-at-home mom and freelance writer. Her work has been published in dozens of magazines. She loves to write about the important things in life: her family and her faith.

Diane DeVaughn Stokes is the President of Stages Video Productions, Host and Producer for the TV show “Inside Out” as seen on HTC, and “Diane on Six” heard on EASY radio. She loves traveling and scuba diving with her husband Chuck, acting in community theater and is the proud mom of three awesome female cats.

january

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www.sasee.com 7

Unchanging Change

by Susan Harvey

8 www.sasee.com

C

hange, the only constant in life, prepared me for new beginnings, yet at the same time it taught me to fear the unknown. Two changes have made significant impacts on my life: long-distance moves and technology. I resisted relocation, but learned to embrace it; I embraced technology, but learned to resist it.

Marrying a U.S. Defense Department engineer ensured I would experience a new beginning every two to three years. At first, I didn’t enjoy moving around the country. Breaking up a household and moving a thousand miles cross country was difficult. From NASA in Alabama, to Fort Lee in Virginia, to Fort Hood in Texas, the government moved us at the commanding officer’s whim – your tax dollars at work. I wanted roots, not farewells.

After four such moves, I began to look forward to the relocations: New places to see, new friends to make, new houses to decorate. We were married fifteen years before we lived in a house long enough to wash the windows.

What a surprise when I discovered rain doesn’t actually wash them. I also discovered that a long-distance move enabled me to rid myself of demanding friendships and unwanted community and social obligations. When we bought a new house, I didn’t worry about my neighbors. If I didn’t enjoy their company, I would be gone in a couple years. My outlook changed. I embraced change. In doing so, I opened myself to many new friendships and opportunities I would have missed had I not overcome my fear of the unknown.

When technology swept over us, I welcomed it. I took classes to learn to use computers, peripheral hardware and various software platforms. I wanted every electronic device on the market – the newer the better. Discard the old; bring on the new. For ten years I was a computer-literate administrative assistant when most people didn’t know what a hard drive was. When I began teaching, I embraced online classes and used teaching software to teach online classes for twelve years. As I aged, technology became overwhelming, and I revisited my old fear of the unknown: What’s happening in a world where faceto-face communication is rare?

Now that I’m retired, I’ve discovered that I can hold on to some of my old habits and parts of my pre-technology lifestyle. I’ve learned to combine the old with the new and decide which is best for me – a woman of age. I can’t say I’ve completely overcome my fear of the unknown, but when I face change, I do so with a positive attitude, telling myself that something good will come from the situation. Usually, I’m not disappointed – except when I tried to use an

iPad.

january

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www.sasee.com 9

New Year, New and More Happy You!

“A Year from Now You Will Wish You Had Started Today” - Karen Lamb We invite you for two informative presentations by Dr. Goh Wednesday, January 16, 5:30 - 6:30pm at the YMCA on 62nd

sponsored by Grand Strand Regional HealthFinders

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by Lisa Hamilton 10 www.sasee.com

The Orphan Master’s Son, by Adam Johnson, is a remarkable and timely novel about a man living an unbelievable life in North Korea.

This literary thriller, so to speak, is about the hidden world of North Korea with all its misery, violence and impossible circumstances.

Pak Jun Do (John Doe) believes he is the son of the master of the orphanage who runs a work camp. His mother is a famous singer “stolen” to Pyongyang. He considers himself

january

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a “humble citizen of the greatest nation on earth,” and becomes a professional kidnapper. As he is driven to extremes more horrific than any one individual should endure, Johnson takes us into a place and life that is unforgettable. From prisons to fishing villages and into the lives of high ranking officials, this addictive story eats into our hearts with power and fear.

Stated one of the best books of 2012, it gives us a glimpse into a current place of crisis even if it is only through our imagination.

january

www.sasee.com 11

Vomit P h o b i a

by Melissa Face

“Craig!” I called out to my husband who was sleeping downstairs on the couch. “I need your help!

Evan is sick! Bring a bucket!”

Craig arrived upstairs in time to see me peel Evan’s vomit stained pajamas off and plop him in the tub. While I washed our baby’s hair and body, Craig quickly gathered the soiled linens and started a load of laundry.

“Take this too!” I yelled. I threw my shirt out the bathroom door. Just the smell of the vomit spot on my own shoulder was enough to make me sick also.

Over the next few minutes, I got the baby cleaned and dressed. I fixed him a cup of ice water, settled him in his chair, and turned on his favorite Barney movie.

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From an outsider’s perspective, I compared with any other capable mother caring for a sick child. I looked like I was in complete control of the situation.

But looks can really be deceiving.

In reality, there are few things in life that freak me out more than vomit. As a child, I remember the terrifying feeling I had each year when the notorious stomach flu made its way around. Even as a teenager, I recall avoiding others whom I knew had been sick in recent weeks. I dreaded catching a stomach virus.

I have grown up in many ways, but I have not outgrown my fear of vomit. In fact, it was one of the first fears that entered my mind when I became pregnant. I was only a few weeks along and already dreading the day when my precious little one would come down with his first stomach bug.

During pregnancy and as a new mother, I solicited advice from my more experienced friends.

“How do you handle it when your kids get sick?” I asked my friend Airon.

“You’ve just got to dig deep,” she told me. “I wish I had a better answer for you.”

I questioned co-workers and received similar responses.

“Somehow, you’ll just be able to deal with it,” Sonya said.

“Your mothering instincts will kick in,” Noelle reassured.

I really wanted to believe them, but I was still skeptical. I was put to the test when Evan was sixteen months old.

When Evan cried out around midnight, I had every reason to believe that his teeth were hurting. He was cutting a top molar, and our house suffered with each and every tooth that broke through the surface.

I went into his room, scooped him out of the crib, and placed him next to me in the guest bed. He squirmed and whined and tossed and turned.

I rubbed his back and sang and then quietly rolled over on my side to try to get some sleep.

Then I heard a strange sound. At first I thought it was a cough, just a bit gurglier. Then, I smelled a telling, putrid odor. Next came the cries, another louder, gagging sound and more crying. I jumped out of bed and flipped the light switch, illuminating one of my biggest fears: my child had a stomach virus.

For what seemed like several excruciating minutes, I stood and watched my child cry as he threw up all over the bed. I stared at him in disbelief and waited. I’m not sure what I was waiting for. Maybe for divine intervention or maybe I was hoping that my mothering instincts were going to kick in and that at any moment, I would be able to “handle it.”

Unfortunately, that never happened. I was just as grossed out by my child’s vomit as I imagined I would be. At the end of the day, when we realized that Evan was definitely on the mend, I breathed a sigh of relief.

“I didn’t think I was going to get through it,” I told my husband.

“Oh, it wasn’t so bad,” he said. “Throw up doesn’t bother me.”

“What?” I replied.

I couldn’t believe my ears. My husband hadn’t been anywhere near as traumatized by this event as I was. And so, like any sensible couple would do, we made a deal. From then on, Craig would handle episodes of vomiting, and I would be in charge of diaper changing. It is a deal I can live with, even though my work is much more frequent.

The next time the stomach flu goes around I might go out of town for a few days. I’ll call, of course, to check on my husband and the baby.

But it might be nice to go the beach. I’ll sit by the water and wait for that instinct to kick in.

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www.sasee.com 13

Wedding Wedding A Fam i ly

Fo l lowe d by a My st ery

by Ann Ipock

After enjoying the wedding of her dreams, our daughter, Katie, and her new husband, Michael, have settled into marital bliss. I, on the other hand, can’t get used to her new last name, Voulgaris, but I will eventually. I can’t get used to her not living here with us, but I will eventually. I can’t get used to us being invited over for meals at their house – Katie is NOT a cook, though Michael is – but I will eventually. In fact, starting with their very first major holiday, Thanksgiving, they’re cooking up a feast for us. THAT, I can get used to!

Weddings are a beautiful thing. They bring family and friends together, they create a union between husband and wife, they serve as a channel for LOTS of wedding gifts. And if you’re lucky like us – most of the people that you invite do attend. We had a little over the standard 80% acceptance, but it seemed like so many more. That’s because Michael and his dad, Nick, took turns performing a special Greek dance. Talk about a packed room, but an appreciative, happy and entertained crowd! Opa! But, y’all, please answer this for me: what happens when you get invited to a wedding, and you don’t seem to KNOW the couple? This did not happen at Katie and Michael’s wedding (that I’m aware of), but it’s happening with us now. I just received a “Save the Date” card from a couple that I absolutely do not know. Our names and address are hand-written on the charming, colorful, whimsical post card. One thing’s for sure: they have great taste! The invitation is on card stock with ornate turquoise, ivory and white color themes, depicting ocean waves, sand and birds.

Our name and address are printed correctly, so I know it wasn’t a mass-mailed, solicitation type of mail – of course not, not for a wedding! For a short sale on a house, yes; but not for a wedding. One hint: our name is written in a beautiful manuscript, similar to the perfect style drafters use on surveys and plans. And the ink is a lovely turquoise to match the front of the card.

I’ve asked everyone I can think of if they know this couple, and I’ve had a resounding, “No!” So what am I to do? Oh, and to top it off, this is a destination wedding in Rincon, Puerto Rico, next May! The postcard showed

14 www.sasee.com

a website for this engaged couple, and I immediately looked that up. She has long blonde hair, and he has short brown hair. That’s the only clue I can obtain – that, and they love surfing and the great outdoors. In order to avoid embarrassment, I won’t tell you their first names, but I will say they are common ones. I’m guessing their ages are mid to late 20’s. Katie, our 28-year old daughter, does not know them – I’ve shown her the invite and their website.

When I showed this card to hub-Russ, he was the first to say, “Well, it’s for dang sure we aren’t going to Puerto Rico for a wedding.” But I teased him, “Well, why not? I’ve never been there. It would be a great vacation!” Russell replied, “But, Ann, think about it! We don’t know them!” My rebuttal, “Okay, you have a point, but the way I look at it is: they know us, and they KNOW that they know us. We don’t know them but they don’t KNOW that we don’t know them (evidently). So why not meet them half-way, so to speak, at their wedding? Kind of like, Surprise!” Russell just rolled his eyes and continued cleaning his golf clubs with that scruffy old toothbrush. I also reminded him there are wonderful golf courses in Puerto Rico. He still wasn’t interested. Men! One other clue: their return address is on the back of the card. He/ she/they currently live at Wrightsville Beach, a short fifteen-minute drive from our home. I could go spy on them. Y’know, watch them come and go. Pretend to bump into them on the sidewalk IF they have a sidewalk. But that is just SO obvious, right? And though I have been called Mrs. Kravitz from the popular TV show, “Bewitched,” I prefer to spy only in my own neighborhood.

At the very least, I plan to send them a gift, except, where are they registered? And, how shall I sign the card? “Happy wedding day from your long-lost pals, Ann and Russell.” Oh, no, wait! I keep forgetting that they know Us but we don’t know Them. I’ve done a Facebook search, a Google search and again, thoroughly read their website. Ack! So if you are reading this now and know who this couple is – hey, you may BE this couple – then please by all means tell me who you are, so we’ll both know. Okay? Confused? Yeah, me too.

january

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january

www.sasee.com 15

In Search of Treasure

by Kim Seeley

My mother and I have made an annual jaunt to the beautiful Shenandoah Valley of Virginia for several years now. We are treasure-seekers, but not in the usual sense. There are two events which determine the exact timing of our trip. One, of course, is the peak season of the fall foliage. I anxiously scan the websites of the Virginia Department of Tourism and the National Park Service for the first two weeks of October, trying to choose the best time to travel Skyline Drive and view the fall extravaganza of colors.

The second event is of equal importance – the Green Valley Book Fair. It is only held during certain weeks of the year, which makes timing our trip quite important. When can we be certain of attending the book fair and seeing Mother Nature’s splendor? I finally decide on dates and book the hotel.

The weather predictions are good, the leaf display sounds promising, and we will attend the book fair on the first day of our trip.

For those of you who are unfamiliar with the Green Valley Book Fair, it is not like the annual book fair held in your child’s school. The location is directly off Interstate 81, just a few miles from Harrisonburg. It is housed in two huge metal buildings and located behind a bucolic white-framed farmhouse, with spotted cows and dairy farms scattered about the entrance road.

One metal building is devoted to books for children and young adults, and I immediately head for the board books, which cannot be easily destroyed by my two-year-old grandson. The books are arranged by ages, topics, Caldecott and Newbery medal winners, religious titles, Spanish titles and many others.

When my mother and I finish browsing the children’s section, she rests for a bit near the front. I head for the second metal building to do a treasure hunt of my own. Here are the New York Times best-sellers, the popular authors, romance novels, Christian fiction, classics and more. On another level are the non-fiction books, history, psychology, art, sports, you name it. I could literally spend hours in this building, but I want to check into our hotel soon, so I concentrate on choosing my winter reading.

I come back to my mother’s resting spot with my arms loaded with treasure. I show her my jewels – the Pulitzer Prize winners, Book of the Year winners, Nobel Prize winners and personal favorites of mine. Mom is equally excited, because she knows she will read them as soon as I finish them. We gather our riches and head for the check-out counter. I saved the best part of this book fair for last. Every single title is marked down by 75%. I almost feel

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guilty, walking away with two bags of knowledge, imagination and experiences for such a bargain.

The next two days, my mother and I continue on our quest for jewels. We travel Skyline Drive and view a vast wonderland of colors, particularly enjoying the gold, amber, scarlet and orange colors of the various types of trees.

King Midas owned no gold that could rival one particular part of Skyline Drive, where the glistening golden trees arch over the road and encircle you in beauty. Mother Nature has left us stunned once again.

We exit at New Market to visit yet another treasure trove – Showalter’s Apple Orchard. We visit this lovely farm each year and have the opportunity to pick apples off the trees, choose our own apples to bag or buy them by the bags. Once again, we are overwhelmed by the variety and perfection of these red, green and yellow beauties. I load the car with apples of various colors and types, savoring their delicious aroma as I place them gently in the back recesses of the trunk.

When we head for home the next day, we are once again treated to a stunning feast of leaves in all their splendor. We admire the scenery and are grateful for great driving weather. Interstate 64 near Charlottesville is arrayed with a rainbow of colors that rivals Skyline Drive. Once we return home, I help my mother unload her luggage and her riches, and then return home with my own. I unpack my treasures and put them away.

The apples are in the crisper and the pantry. They will be eaten within the month. Bags of apples sit by the door to be given to family. But the books are in the study, waiting for winter. After the Christmas tree is put away, and the lights are stored in the attic, these treasures will see me through the dark of winter, taking me to unseen lands, helping me to understand other life experiences. I will sip hot chocolate, wrap up in my fleecy robe, and immerse myself in my jewels, which will bring light into the shortest, darkest days of the year.

I will delve into the worlds of other people’s imaginations. I will ride the winds of these creative authors’ makings. And I will be thankful for my own fall journey, which led me to these purchases. Always and forever, I will be grateful that I shared these journeys with my mother, who has always shared her love of nature and beauty with me.

january

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www.sasee.com 17

gets candid

Meet Sara Credito

Visitors to Sara Credito’s home in Pawleys Island are greeted with an explosion of colorful, whimsical art, most of which she created.

Her paintings, some reminiscent of Monet, others more “Klimt-like,” are a direct reflection of the artist’s love of the South Carolina coast, specifically Pawleys Island. Sara, the owner of w.i.n.k. Art (whimsically inspired, naturally keen) is a self-taught artist who began her work on glass, but has since expanded her creative expressions to canvas. Sara’s work is bright and fun, but, on closer inspection, the spirituality of her work draws the viewer in for another look. Sasee was invited to this delightful woman’s home to learn more about her and her unique approach to art and life.

Sara, when did you begin your work as an artist?

I started painting on glass and developed w.i.n.k. (whimsically inspired, naturally keen) Art about two years ago. When my husband, Steve, and I moved here from Baltimore, I was a pharmaceutical rep with Johnson & Johnson, but retired soon after our move. I loved working on glass, but I wanted more versatility and moved to canvas.

I’m not a trained artist. My work is very much a part of me, and who I am.

When I paint, the spiritual side of me takes over; it’s almost as if I channel the work – I know this is what I’m supposed to be doing. Things show up in my work that I never intended to be there – every piece has “eyes” somewhere, and I never actually put them there! The beauty of Pawleys Island inspires me – I think we live in one of the most beautiful places on earth.

Due to the very positive response I’ve gotten from my work, I have developed a line of note cards as well as prints and original paintings. I don’t do commissions, though, my art flows from the heart.

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Please tell our readers about “Paint It Forward.”

I came up with the idea of Paint It Forward as a way to give back. During my first art show two years ago, I thought that asking celebrities to paint on glass, and then using the finished pieces in an auction to raise money, would be a great way to help charities. It has been a huge success. Locally, I’ve done events for Tidelands Hospice and Waccamaw Hospital. I’ve also worked with Hope House Foundation in Norfolk, Virginia. One of my paintings was chosen to represent the Stockley Gardens Art Festival, and we held the most successful Paint It Forward event thus far. Several other opportunities have stemmed from the success of this event. I am very excited about the future of w.i.n.k. Art and a possible partnership with a nationwide organization. Please stay tuned for more details!

Tell our readers a little more about yourself.

My husband and I have been married for 37 years and have two sons, Ryan and Derrick. Ryan lives here and has an eight year old son, Nicholas Steven, whom we adore! We spend as much time with our grandson as possible. Our life in Pawleys Island really is idyllic. We have made some wonderful friends and have a very full social life.

I spent a lot of time on my art, but I do workout on my elliptical machine. I’m not a “real” golfer, but I play a little for fun. We also love to travel when we can.

How can people see more of your work?

I have a website, www.winkartink.com and my work is featured on www. fineartamerica.com. Locally, I can be contacted by phone at 843-235-3390.

january

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www.sasee.com 19

Southern Snaps A Place of Peace and Quiet

by Connie Barnard

“Things that are real are given and received in silence.” – Meher Baba

For years I have driven by the Meher Spiritual Center’s discreet entrance tucked in a woodsy thicket just north of the Tanger Outlets and WalMart’s busy blare. Each time I have felt drawn to its quiet presence, intrigued yet intimidated by all I do not know. Today through friends of friends, I have arranged to enter its gates and explore the life and world of Meher Baba and those who follow him.

Even before arriving at its Gate House entrance, I feel a sense of peace rarely found in the workaday world. Dense forest gleams with early winter sun as silence surrounds me. My guide for the day, Mimi Hay, greets me warmly. A lithe, stunning artist with kind eyes and a soft voice, Mimi will spend the next three hours sharing her own story and the story of Meher Baba. Along the way, she will also tell the stories of several strong women, followers of Baba, who created this wondrous place to honor and welcome him.

As we walk the sandy, neatly raked paths spread over the center’s 500 acres, Mimi points out simple, well-tended buildings and talks about Elizabeth Chapin Patterson, daughter of early Myrtle Beach leader Simeon Chapin, who led the efforts to create a Western Center and spiritual retreat for Baba and his followers. In the 1940s Patterson and her good friend and fellow Baba devotee, Princess Norina Matchabelli, traveled all over the American continent in search of a location which met his specifications. Mimi says, “Baba’s Center in the West was to have equitable climate and ample water. It was to be built on land that had not previously been developed and ‘given from the heart.’” After searching for several years, Elizabeth came to realize that land possessed by her own father on the northernmost edge of Myrtle Beach met all these qualifications, including the challenging requirement for previously uninhabited soil.

The wondrous tract also contains a mile of unspoiled oceanfront, two fresh water lakes, and such a wide variety of plants and wildlife that it has since been designated as a state wildlife sanctuary. When Simeon Chapin was approached about the property, he willingly transferred the land to his daughter who in turn presented it to Meher Baba “from the heart.”

Each of the Center’s simple original structures was built according to Baba’s directions in preparation for his arrival. Among these is an old cypress mule barn from Conway which was taken apart and reassembled on this spot.

It accommodates up to 200 people, as specified by Baba, and contains furnishings from Elizabeth’s and Norina’s own homes, now including an exquisite antique Mediterranean dining table and a special chair reserved for Baba. The rustic building blends with its natural setting yet features touches of graceful elegance with open rafters and a sky blue ceiling. A simple two unit cabin designated as Cabin on the Hill sits near Discovery Point where Elizabeth and Norina stood when they first realized that their long search for the right location had come to fruition. Several of the small cottages are former Army Air Corps

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january

huts which Elizabeth purchased, moved and re-fitted for guests at the retreat.

In 1952, Meher Baba came to the Grand Strand for the inauguration of his “home in the West.” Accompanying him on the journey was an amazing English woman, Katherine (“Kitty”) Davy, whom many here still remember with joy. When Baba left, at his request Davy remained an integral part of the center, touching many until her death in 1991 at the age of 100. Among these was a dear friend, Jane Barry Haynes, whom Kitty trained to become the Meher Center’s long term director. Jane’s daughter, Wendy Haynes Connor, met Meher Baba in 1958 on one of his two return visits to the Center. She still resides on adjoining property and has remained actively involved, both as one of its directors and as a volunteer. By Meher Baba’s direction, the retreat has remained open to “all who love and follow me and those who know of me and want to know more.”

Mimi explains that the term Meher Baba translates as “Compassionate Father.” It is these tenants of compassion, unconditional love, and quietude that first attracted her to his universal philosophy. Hay says, “Followers of Baba each have their own relationship with him, bringing together all religions of the world. There are no requirements except an open heart. I grew up in the Catholic faith and have retained those roots but added to them, as we say, like ‘beads on a string’”.

As we walk the Center’s grounds, I am most profoundly struck by its quiet. Guests and Center colleagues greet one another with the respectful words “Jai Baba,” but they are careful not to intrude. Meher Baba once said, “External silence helps find inner silence where you find God.” Baba truly obeyed his own admonition, taking a vow of silence in 1929 which he kept until his passing 40 years later. We approach Lagoon Cabin where he met privately with followers during his visits. Mimi points out that someone is inside, as indicated by shoes left outside the door. We wait, then respectfully remove our own shoes before entering.

Compassion and spirituality come naturally to Mimi who was born to American parents living in Japan. Her father, a CIA agent, was also a world class runner, Ivy League scholar, and a deeply spiritual person. He loved to climb Mount Fuji and introduced his young daughter to concepts found in Eastern philosophies. The family eventually settled in Connecticut, and her father became headmaster of the Greenwich Country Day School. Mimi grew up on the school’s campus where she developed a deep sense of social conscience. While still in high school Mimi volunteered at Koinonia Farm Community in rural Georgia during a period of tense racial and political strife.

She worked with young children there, teaching them tie dye and other techniques she would use later in her own career as an artist. At Hollins College in Virginia, Mimi excelled in field hockey and lacrosse and was in line to play for the U.S. National Team when a torn ligament prevented her participation. She majored in World Religions and spent vacations volunteering at a Mohawk reservation on the New York-Canada border and a Christian community on Cape Cod. In1972 a spring break trip to the Meher Center in Myrtle Beach changed the direction of Mimi’s life. Through a theater professor at Hollins, she had been introduced to Meher Baba and wanted to learn more firsthand. Mimi was struck by the Center’s natural beauty and gentle spirit pervading throughout. As she and I walk toward Long Lake, Mimi’s eyes fill with emotion. She recalls a moment at this spot forty years earlier when she closed her eyes and asked Baba to show her a sign if this was the path she was meant to follow. Not once but twice Mimi received very real signs of personal, mystical confirmation.

From that moment Mimi committed herself to Meher Baba; how-

ever, a couple of decades would pass before it all came completely together. In her own true life variation of Eat, Pray, Love, Mimi married the college professor, had two children, moved several times, went to grad school, became an artist, and went through a painful divorce. In 1995 she was alone with children to educate and the difficult decision of whether to accept a lucrative position in New York or follow her inner tug toward Myrtle Beach. As she drove down the highway, Mimi once again asked Baba for a sign of direction in her life. She received one, literally. On the side of the road just in front of her appeared a large black and white billboard bearing the words: “If You Want to Get Closer to God, MOVE.” And so she did…

Since that day, Mimi’s life has experienced many significant changes, all of them good. She has gained national recognition as a fiber artist, particularly her massive decorative fabric creations displayed across the country in banks, libraries, hospitals and private collections. Recently she has also moved in new directions that reflect her early roots: wearable art in the form of silk vests, scarves and jackets created using the Japanese Shibori technique, a sophisticated version of the simple tie dye method Mimi first taught the children at Koinonia. Several days a week she also volunteers at the Meher Center, leading tours for visitors from all over the world, assisting in the gardens, and coordinating art displays throughout the Center.

The move to the Carolina Coast also brought Mimi personal happiness. In 1999 she married area businessman Marshall Hay who serves on the Board of Trustees for the Meher Center. They honeymooned in Japan and India where together they climbed Mount Fuji and visited the Samadi of Meher Baba at Meherabad in Ahmednagar, India.

As I leave this haven of peace and quiet, I look back longingly, trying to hold on to a fleeting sense of calm and spiritual renewal. Then I climb back aboard the busy carousel of life, recalling a memorable quote from Meher Baba: “You have asked for and been given enough words. Now it is time to live them.”

january

www.sasee.com 21

To Everything, There is a Season

by Erika Hoffman

22 www.sasee.com

january

I

read the cards. I smell the flowers. I browse the e-mails, kind and concerned. The phone rings. I answer it with a voice so small that it surprises even me. I hear a man say: “Let the memories begin,” and I wonder who this person is who begins his condolences this way. Then, the voice continues: “Your family has been selected to receive an all inclusive…” I hang up after pressing “two” to be removed from the list. I place the receiver back in its cradle. With chin in hand, I glance out the window at the smiling sun and the trees swaying as cars drive past, and I think: The world goes on as if nothing has changed. Yet everything has changed.

Sometimes, I feel silly when I tell folks how old I am and how old Dad was. “What did you expect?” they look like they want to ask.

He‘d had a stroke. I knew the odds. Yet, he seemed to be recovering. He was supposed to be moved from the hospital to rehab at a nursing home the next day. I was preparing for this phase of my care giving. I was pondering the adjustments I’d make to the house when he got released from the care facility. I was thinking about options, and if I’d need to hire someone to stay with him when I couldn’t be home. I was preparing myself mentally for this adjustment in parental care giving. I didn’t consider his dying.

I recall long ago when I was young how sad my father-in-law was when his own father passed at the ripe old age of 96. I recollect how astonished I felt witnessing his grief. I thought about how long a life my hubby’s grandpa had lived and didn’t everyone have to die someday? I looked at my husband’s grandpa’s death with objectivity.

Now I see things differently. Just because you are old and just because your parent has beaten the actuarial odds – neither fact diminishes your grief. If anything, it is compounded. You’ve had more years with him to know him through your adult eyes. Or, as a buddy. You may have had the experience of caring for your elder in your own home, and he may have now seemed like your child. You have shared simple pleasures with him. If your elderly parent lived with you as my dad did, then he is part of your daily routine and now you search for him. You see the dent in the armchair where he sat or the spot on the sofa’s back where he laid his head or the crossword puzzle lying on the end table not yet finished with pencil posited across it, waiting – waiting for his return. You see his cap and jacket on the hat tree. You see his slippers by his bed; his clothes in the closet. You still have his winter coat to pick up at the dry cleaners.

Things look the same. Yet all is different and never will be the same again.

The cards help. The bouquets help. The calls asking you out to lunch help, but you don’t want to go. You feel sluggish. Not depressed, just sad. You miss his asking you for a glass of water or to help him locate his cane or his asking you to turn on the TV as you watch him fiddle with a remote held upside down in his gnarled hands. You flip on his favorite channel, and he thanks you and studies you as if you are a technical wizard.

You remember all these little things. Now, your eyes water. You sniffle.

Today you have chores to do but not those banal ones you complained about before. Now you have the business duties that come with death. They weigh on you as busy work that constantly reminds you of your loss. You hate how you felt aggrieved before because you had to do all the work for your elder, and now you think you’d gladly strap on the backpack of care giving if you could only hear his voice again, see him smile again, and if you could once more say, “Good night Dad. I’ll see you in the morning.” You’d hear him say: “Okay, Erika. See you then.”

And he’d painstakingly mount the stairs.

Tears stream down. Your friends tell you, “You did everything you could. You will have no regrets.” No regrets except the big one – that he is gone. And it is then that you open your Bible and you read Matthew 5:4KJV: “Blessed are they who mourn: for they shall be comforted.” I sit with the book in my lap. I know the words are true. The Bible says there is a season for everything, and I know that also is true and a season will come when I can once again laugh remembering Dad’s stories and jokes.

When I remember then, his presence will be there for me. But now, my lips turn downward. I feel a heavy heart, and my shoulders sag. God gave my dad a peaceful death with me by his side holding his hand. Dad got the death he deserved. God was gentle with him. And, I thank God for that blessing and for His giving me the kind of father that everyone wants. I am a lucky gal.

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www.sasee.com 23

My Kindle broke.

Library in the Sky

by Rose Ann Sinay

24 www.sasee.com

It may have had something to do with dropping it, screen face down…on the tile floor…hard. First was that feeling of disbelief. I had over 500 books saved on it, 450 unread. Mostly free books mind you, but behind this compilation of titles was two years of summary reading and slogging through countless critiques and reviews (many, I’m sure, written by the author’s friends and family). I take pushing that “buy” button very seriously.

When my husband, who can fix almost anything, declared the device “dead,” I mourned it more than I had my cell phone that had drowned in a puddle of wine (I wish I could say there was an interesting story in that). My attachment to the reading gadget surprised me. I hadn’t jumped on the e-reader bandwagon right away. I had sniffed at the electronic replacement in disdain. I felt utterly transcendental believing that nothing could substitute the feel of a book in hand, turning each and every page. So what if I have to travel thirty miles to a big, chain bookstore to get my favorite authors’ newest books.

Weren’t Stephen King, Jeffry Archer and Ken Follett worth the ride? Reading their words on real paper, with corners that could be folded down into a tiny triangle when that ever elusive bookmark couldn’t be found, needing the bedside light on (and arguing with your spouse about turning it off) were all part of the true reading experience.

I probably would never have bought an e-reader for myself, so when my husband gave it to me for Christmas, I insisted that he had to set it up. I didn’t want to like it, and I certainly didn’t expect to fall in love with the technology at my fingertips. But I did.

I called Amazon hoping that there was something I could do to revive my friend and its bulging memory. But, alas, I would have to purchase a new device. The good news was all those books did not go down with the ship. It seems that these books do not reside solely within the walls of the thin plastic apparatus, but rather in the ambiguity of “your account.” An account – on a cloud – it’s an abstract concept to me, like: how does a jet stay in the air?

(Please don’t judge. From the number of people who asked if I lost all my books, I have realized that there are a lot of us technology deficient people out there.) I was just relieved that my books were safe.

I found a website that defined all those scary “E” words and related terms for non-techno savvy people. Armed with a little more knowledge than I had before, I made my purchase. I upgraded. I ordered a tablet. Not only could I read books, gather them on a server and download them literally at the very touch of my finger, but I could check my email and my Facebook. In my spare time I could surf the web anytime, anywhere.

This time when the package arrived in the mail, I was excited and couldn’t wait to see all my books that were waiting for me, sitting on that cloud (server). A reading marathon was in my near future.

I have had my tablet for two weeks. My desktop computer has been downgraded to a word processor since my new device and I have rarely been apart. My email is up-to-date and checked more often than ever before. I have “liked” all my friends’ Facebook posts and have discovered how to post my own. I now have 550 titles in my personal online library. Reading book reviews has become an obsession. Instead of choosing from a hundred free e-books, there are thousands of them, floating out there in the great beyond, just waiting for me to select with the tiny tap of my pinky.

Now, If only I had the time to read them all.

january

letters to the editor Sasee loves the stories our readers share with us!

en my iving wh e g s k n a h ing of T ipes?” H he morn our mother’s rec t n o n e ve y kitch id you sa sy in the I was bu lled out, “Hey d sures. ca ea e for husband say they were tr taking tim to n o le o t ic t called tful ar went on n insigh a neat house.” I a ’s r kids e r e H out id, “ when ou b a a ” s y e g s h u in b y r, r e t oo or A little la en instead of w hought I was “t t r d I il t h a en th your c the kitch m o upcake r f im h arted a c er t s e h s . , le n o th were litt mic pers here to see wha a n y d a “Here’s Come on over he said, r d. e t la le t nal awar A lit io t a n a t , go eady business ks like.” bably alr o r p o u lo o y kitchen e then m and next roo st issue which h e h t in er late his reclin h Sasee’s arm.”

I went to as going throug y of wit and ch to pla ew ot given an know, h s “a dazzling dis n ’s e H . da e least higan, describe to say th nesota and Mic g e iv s u f f e in n l, is not from M you have to ha and, Pau Let’s see…he’s h b s ic u h h w y M ts. side mplimen ry sweet lavish co player with a ve t out. rre whose all writers, ex-footb some time to fe e e s a S g or mentin around f , compli e u s is le the who . through d hare a e r e H oud to s r p ’m I y compan ill be. r fans w u o y o h w er know You nev

itor…

Dear Ed

This is just a note to th stor y. It brought ba ank you for Melissa Face’s ck memories of my pro finding footwear fo r my 1947 wedding blems . Those after-the -war years hadn’t yet caught up with such appropriate fa shions.

I was per fectly com for table dancing in my Daniel Greene BEDROOM SLIPPERS, white sa tin , of course , and nobody guessed my secret.

Again , thank you fo r re “girl” of such a hap minding this 88 year old py time .

Sincerely, Lois

, Sincerely Carrie

Oh my gosh…I so enjoyed this issue of Sasee so much that I just had to share some thoughts with you.

Linda O’Connell made me think of my Mom telling me stories from back in the depression era when they had to cut inserts from cardboard for their old shoes, too. I think back to a time when I was growing up. I had a pair of almost worn out shoes that I loved so much that I tried the same thing! No one ever knew, but that cardboard did not last long. Those shoes were trashed after the first rain.

Janey Womeldorf’s article about “Fashion, Aging and Purging” was so me! I was laughing so hard in the car while we were traveling that my husband had to turn the radio off to hear about what I was reading!

And closest to my heart was Sabrina Wang’s story about her hair. I found myself right back to the summer of 2006 when I was diagnosed with AML-leukemia. I, too, decided when my hair was leaving my body.

Oh, my precious hair. I couldn’t imagine watching my hair fall out. My nurse, Val, said she had clippers, was great at shaving, and would charge them whenever I was ready. At the first sign of hairs on my pillow I asked her to fire them up. That was the best thing I ever did for my psyche. It must have something to do with doing it my way rather than letting chemo decide for me. My husband and son joined me in baldness by shaving their heads, too.

Today just happens to be the anniversary of my diagnosis. I am so blessed to be alive.

Thanks, again, for this great issue. I’m going to stash it, in my closet, for days I have the “punies.” That should bring a smile to my face.

january

Sincerely, Chris

www.sasee.com 25

h 2003

February • Marc

October • November 2004 Priceless

May 2011 Priceless www.sasee.com

The most important trip you may

There will come a

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when you believe everything is finished.

That will be the

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take in life is meeting people halfway.

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The Mail Mix-Up

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temptation

Lead me not into

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June 20 07 Priceless

Love

is everythi ng it’s cracke d up to be…

It really is worth fighting fo r, being brave for, risking everything for.

– Erica Jo ng

Special P ull Out Bridal G uide

Live with intentio Walk to the edge. n.

Listen hard.

Practice wellness.

October 2008 Priceless

May 2009 Priceless

Special Pull Out Dining Guide February 2011 Priceless www.sasee.com

Eventually you will come to understand that heals everything, and is all there is.

love

what you see. at that matters, it’s – Henry David Thoreau k loo u yo t ha w t It’s no

Play with abando Appreciate your frin.enLaugh. Choose with no regret.

Live as if this is all th ds. Continue to learn. Do what yo u love. ere is. – Mary

love

Anne Radmacher

– Gary Zukav

26 www.sasee.com

january

June 20 07 Priceless

ve

ng

up

“Cassie gave me some of our mail today,” my 13-year-old daughter, Lea, said as she handed me an envelope.

“Thank you, Honey,” I said. “And tell Cassie and her mom I said thanks.”

“I don’t know why they keep getting our mail,” Lea said. “I mean, I know we have the same house number, but doesn’t the mail man see that the actual street name is different?”

I smiled. We’d had this conversation many times as this little mail mix-up had become a common occurrence. “We all make mistakes,” I said.

The following week, Lea brought home yet another piece of our mail.

This time, it was my sample copy of Sasee.

“Cassie said her mom read it,” Lea said. “She didn’t realize it wasn’t hers until it was too late.”

I grinned. “That’s funny.”

“Cassie said her mom really liked your story.”

My smile grew bigger. “Well, I’m glad she accidentally read it.”

“She was hoping you had some more she could read, you know, on purpose, this time.”

“I’m sure I do.”

“That’s good. Oh, and Mom? Cassie said her mom cried when she read your story, but she still wants to read more of them.” Lea shrugged. “It’s really weird.”

I chuckled. “Sometimes moms like to cry, Honey.” I patted her on the shoulder. “You’ll understand someday.”

I flipped through the magazine and skimmed my story. It didn’t seem especially sad. I was curious why the story made Cassie’s mom so emotional. I didn’t know Megan well. We’d spoken briefly a few times when she’d brought Cassie to our house to play. I knew she was recently divorced and was struggling to adjust to being on her own.

An emotional time, for sure, but my story didn’t touch on divorce or single parenting. I re-read the other stories in the magazine, and none of them did either. I was curious what made Megan cry, but I figured it must have been cathartic since she asked for more copies. Still, I wanted to be sensitive to Megan’s feelings, so when I gathered several more issues of Sasee, I was careful to choose ones with happy stories. I gave the magazines to Lea to pass along to Cassie’s mom.

That weekend, Lea asked if Cassie could spend the night at our house. When Megan dropped her off, she said, “Diane, I’m so sorry I read your mail.”

“It’s fine,” I assured her. “I’m actually glad you happened to read it.”

“So am I,” she said. “I had no idea that you were a writer.”

I chuckled. “Yes, I’ve been writing for this publication for several years now. With all the craziness of raising five kids, writing is what keeps me sane.”

Megan laughed. “Reading is what keeps me sane.”

I smiled back. “I know what you mean. Cuddling up in bed with a book and a cup of coffee is Heaven on earth for me.”

“Me too. And I really enjoyed the additional issues of Sasee you sent my way.”

“They have a great website. You can read all the stories you want there.”

Megan wrinkled her nose. “Thanks, but it’s not the same. It’s much easier to snuggle under the covers with a book or a magazine than with a computer.”

I laughed. “I agree with you there. I’m so busy with the kids that the time I get to spend reading needs to be as luxurious as possible.”

Megan’s smile dropped off. “Yeah, I know how busy you are. I can tell

by your stories that you’re a great mom.”

“Well, thank you, but I’m very selective regarding which Mommy Moments I write about. For example, I have no plans to write a story about the melt down I had yesterday when Nathan spilled chocolate milk on the carpet.”

A trace of a smile appeared on Megan’s face. “You had a meltdown yesterday? That’s great!”

I snorted, and it was quite unattractive. It made Megan’s smile get bigger. “Are you kidding me? I have a meltdown almost every day.”

“That’s terrific!”

“I yell at my kids sometimes, and my house is always a mess,” I confessed.

“Really?”

When I nodded, Megan looked so relieved. “Thank goodness! I’m so glad I’m not the only one!”

“Oh, every mom loses her patience once in a while, and anyone who tries to tell you she doesn’t isn’t being honest,” I said. And then it dawned on me. By choosing only happy stories, I’d accidentally given Megan a Pollyanna view of our family. I’d inadvertently made Megan feel like she wasn’t a good mom.

I held up a finger. “I’ll be right back.” When I returned, I was holding several issues of Sasee that I’d deemed “not happy enough” to give to Megan initially. I set them down in front of her.

“More Sasees?” She asked.

I nodded and picked one up. I flipped through to my story and said, “Oh, this one is about how I never even make a dent in my To Do List.” I grabbed another magazine. “And this one is about the lesson I tried to teach my kids when they wouldn’t stop arguing, and it blew up in my face.”

Megan laughed. “So these are the real life stories.”

I nodded. “Yep, and my real life isn’t always pretty.”

“I’m glad,” she said quietly. “Since my divorce, I’ve been feeling like the worst mother in the world. It’s good to know that other moms struggle too.”

“We all do. Parenting is one of those one-step-forward-two-steps-back kinds of things.” I smiled and gestured toward the magazines. “And now you get to read about all of my missteps.”

“I’m looking forward to it,” she said. “I’m going to make some tea and really enjoy these.”

I smiled, realizing once again that stories matter. They build camaraderie and relationships. They can change our attitude and make our day.

For the reader.

And for the writer too.

january

www.sasee.com 27

Just Blame it on Your Childhood

by Susan DeBow

28 www.sasee.com

january

Just blame it on Barb Soufflé. As we all know, everything that happens in our lives, whether it happens at 30 or 60, goes back to our childhood. Take the fact that I am now fat. The story of that can easily be traced to these few elements of my youth. My mother drank Diet Rite Cola. The house got way too clean on Tuesdays, my mother’s day off. I wasn’t allowed to eat a piece of the cake she had made on said Tuesday until my dad saw it whole, and a girl named Barb Soufflé (not her real name, but close enough) said I was ugly in 7th grade. Therefore, at 60, I am overweight.

Makes perfect sense to me.

It is not just that according to my BMI, which means Body Mass Index, (which I continue to think means Bowel Movement Is Imminent, even though, technically, that would be a BMII), I would be considered obese, (but then, again, according to new guidelines put out by the government’s Bureau of National Lard Asses, headed up by Mayor Bloomberg, unless you are dead, everyone is obese). Of course, my out of whack BMI is, again, the direct result of my childhood, since back then I could eat anything I wanted without gaining an ounce, my mother drank Diet Rite Cola, cleaned the house way too much on Tuesdays, didn’t let me eat the cake until my dad saw it, and Barb Soufflé said I was ugly.

I still don’t like to go to church because of my childhood. We were made to go get saved dogonit! My mother would be in the foulest of moods while she was getting dressed to go smile at church. She passed on that foul mood to me. It began with her drinking the Diet Rite Cola, cleaning on Tuesdays, making a cake I couldn’t eat, Barb Soufflé saying that I was ugly, not being able, for the life of me, to find a pair of pantyhose that didn’t have a run in them and not having any cute boys that went to our church. Therefore, on Sunday mornings I prefer to stay home and thank God that I don’t have to wear pantyhose anymore.

I blame the fact that I have red dots on my stomach and chest to my mom drinking Diet Rite Cola. (The dermatologist did say it was genetic.) I’m pretty sure Barb Soufflé had something to do with those red spots, too.

When I think about it, I’ll bet you a pound to a penny that the reason I don’t care for short men stems back to my seventh grade gym teacher, Mr. Howard (his real name). Mr. Howard, a short skinny man from the backwoods, who stood with his arms crossed and his pelvis thrust out, said to me one time while standing in the playground, interrupting our tetherball game, and with a hillbilly accent, “Hipkins, you think you’re gettin’ too tall to be a cheerleader?”

Of course, I told my mother when I got home, as she sat at the kitchen table drinking a Diet Rite Cola, protecting the sevenminute frosted cake, that Mr. Howard said I was too tall to be a cheerleader.

Mother was up to that school before the icing on that cake had dried.

I made cheerleader and was co-captain.

But, I still don’t like short men.

If I could, I would get my hair cut at a barbershop, the kind with the barber pole that goes round and round and the chairs that, in case of emergency, could be used as thrones for royalty, (but even better than thrones because they go up and down with a push of a foot!). I can trace this desire back to childhood, too. On Saturdays, while mom stayed home and drank Diet Rite Cola while talking with her friends on the phone with the phone cord strung the perfect height for me to hang myself while walking by, Dad would take me with him to get a haircut down off the pike. I loved it if we had to wait. There would be men of different ages, mostly old, sitting in the kind of chairs that if you bounced, the chairs bounced too. I’d sit there next to my dad, bouncing, unless I was at the bubble gum machine, thinking I was quite the big shot, the world was fair and Dad loved me best.

When it was Dad’s turn to get his hair cut, I would hop up in the second empty barber’s chair and twirl myself around, looking at myself in the big mirror whenever I twirled by. Dad and Larry would yaw, and my dad would look like he was in ecstasy when Larry put that thick white foam on his neck. Then, after the barbershop, we would run a few more errands that on a good Saturday ended up at the bakery on the pike, where I would be given a FREE French cruller. And if it was a super, duper Saturday, we would go to the Howdy car wash down on Reading, where real boys dried our car with cloth towels.

On the other hand, I can trace my fear of beauty parlors to my childhood, too. Etched in my mind like a cow brand are the times I was made to go to the Cut and Curl before school started and get a perm. I would go into the beauty parlor looking like a kid and came out looking like a poodle that had been attacked by coyotes. Mother, drinking her Diet Rite Cola, would tell me how nice I looked while my sisters laughed. And that’s why, to this day, I do the butt-cheek tighten up whenever I go to the beauty salon to get my hair done. Give me Larry the Barber any day.

I say, what good is going through the gauntlet of childhood if you can’t even blame some of your actions on it? Accepting responsibility is very over-rated.

january

www.sasee.com 29

Chilling Out Sonoma Style

by Diane DeVaughn Stokes

30 www.sasee.com

january

T

o escape the winter doldrums about a decade ago, Chuck and I headed to the California wine country of Napa and Sonoma. Who needed an excuse to drink wine, eat great food and chill out beneath the California sun?

The area is beautiful, and one winery after the other welcomes patrons into their lobbies featuring a wonderland of products and decorative items for the home covered in grapes. Grape napkins, grape dish towels, grape salt and pepper shakers, grape pillowcases, grape pottery, grape toilet paper – you get the picture. After a dozen wineries, this got old and expensive! They used to let you sample the wine for free, now they all charge to taste the wine. So we decided to try something different the next day…okay, I decided. Chuck wants you to know he had nothing to do with this decision.

We all know that this part of the country is known for its spas and relaxation, so I checked out the local facilities and pondered which one to sign us up for. I love massages, and Chuck had never had one so I thought I’d surprise him with this treat.

Something different than what we have at home in Myrtle Beach was the goal of this mission. The yellow pages and visitor guides were full of choices, but I knew I would never want to put my private parts in mud, so that was out of the question. I once had a mud-pack facial and that was gross enough!

Continuing to peruse the ads, I saw something that sounded very interesting. It was an “enzyme bath” guaranteed to relieve stress, great for allergy sufferers, therapeutic to the core. Perfect! It included a thirty-minute hot cleansing tea served outside in a private tea garden, thirty-minutes in the enzyme tub, and a one-hour massage. It sounded good to me for $175 each plus tip, and we ladies know that massages aren’t cheap, so plus the tea and the bath I figured this was a deal. Book it, I did!

In order to surprise Chuck, I never told him where we were going or what we were about to do, but when we pulled up our rental car in front of “Sensuous Sonoma Spa” he did not know what to expect.

Frankly, I did not either!

We were welcomed by a very ethereal woman who looked like I did in the sixties – love, peace, long hair, no make-up, but not wearing bell-bottoms. Instead she was barefooted wearing an oriental muumuu and probably had her yoga attire beneath it. She looked somewhat anorexic to me. You know the type I’m talking about. To top it all off, her name was Ariel.

Well, our new best friend Ariel, escorted us to an area behind a big white sheet where she told us to undress and change into these big fluffy white robes. They were so fluffy that we looked twice our size, kind of like Mr. and Mrs. Frosty the Snowman. Chuck said, “Honey, you’ve got to be kidding!” I explained it was something different for us, opening new doors, reaching out to a new horizon, a new adventure! Then he burst out laughing. Actually so did I. We looked hideous.

We were then directed to the Garden of Eden, oops that was supposed to be the garden of relaxation, and told to relax in each others arms

as we awaited our purifying tea. The minute she left us alone, we cracked up again, almost scared of what would happen next.

The tea arrived looking much like the tea served in a Chinese restaurant, but this contained all sorts of herbs, spices, lemongrass and even some sort of sticks that were suppose to make us relax and purify. Not only did it look bad, it smelled bad and tasted worse. Heck, the last time I had tea at least the tea was good, and the scones were even better!

Thirty minutes later, we were directed to the bathroom to “purge the impurities from our bodies.” That was followed by the famous enzyme bath.

Here the room was very steamy and hot with two huge tubs that looked like horse feeding stalls filled with cedar type chips, similar to what you put in a hamster cage. Ariel asked us to disrobe as she took a big shovel and scooped down deep into each tub to carve out a space for us to lie down. Chuck had trouble taking off his robe as he is rather shy, but he later said he had not been naked in front of another woman in over twenty years. But as we lay side by side in our enzyme tubs she came back with the shovel and covered us up to our necks with the cedar chips and then quietly left the room.

Well, as you can imagine all we could do was laugh. We laughed so much, we cried. We just knew we must be on “Candid Camera.” We surely have been duped because no one could possibly enjoy this. It wasn’t even comfortable. And I thought having mud on my your “you know what” would be yucky. Well, chips of cedar digging into your back, butt and other areas that God never meant for cedar to seep into ain’t no fun either. However, we laughed and talked and laughed some more even though we were told to be quiet and relax.

When bath time was over, Ariel returned and asked us to stand up.

We both looked like Chia-Pets from Mongolia with cedar chips clinging to every inch of our bodies. We could not contain our laughter as Ariel preceded to hose us off with a big green garden hose. Chuck was mortified, while I totally lost all self-control laughing harder than I had in all my life.

Finally, we were taken to separate rooms for our deep tissue massages.

This part I enjoyed. I had never had a male masseuse before, so it was a little nerve racking, but I was exhausted from all the hysterical laughter, and needed the break. As for my precious husband, he was quick to tell me after the ordeal was over that he wanted me to be the only woman who ever touches his body like that again. He hated it, and said it was too invasive. (Even if he was lying, that was so sweet, wasn’t it?)

So our big, supposed-to-be-romantic-and-relaxing afternoon was a total bust. Umm, maybe not a total waste, after all we got the best laughs of our married life so far, and a great true tale to tell our friends and family, including all of you Sasee readers, about our very memorable, not so Sensuous Sonoma Spa experience.

january

www.sasee.com 31

’s

2012 Circle of Love

A heartfelt thank you goes out to all who participated in the 2nd Annual Circle of Love Wreath Drive.

We would like to acknowledge the students from The Academy of Technology and Academics in Conway, along with their teacher, JoAnne Doshier, who donated 29 handmade wreaths. Sasee had so many gorgeous wreaths and door hangings donated.

Please visit our website at www.sasee.com or our FB page to see all the wreaths that were donated.

The wreaths were delivered to Kingston Nursing Center in Conway on November 30, 2012 by the Sasee staff and many other members of our wonderful community.

2012-2013

25th Anniversary Symphony Series

Saturday, February 2, 2013 at 6:00pm

Mad-Hatter Mania

F

ollow Alice in an evening of festivities with dinner, dance music, dancing and celebration! Dare to create an “outrageous” chapeau for the competition to win prizes in several categories.

Tickets $80/person or $150/couple at the Dunes Golf and Beach Club.

CLASSES BEING HELD AT ART & SOUL FOR “WEARABLE ART” Create a hat for the event!

SCHEDULE AT: artandsoulmyrtlebeach.com

Give Your Mom, Sister, Best Friend or Yourself the Gift that Lasts a Year!

FOR TICKETS CALL:

843.448.8379 •

Thinking Forward.

Looking Back.

TICKETS ALSO AVAILABLE ONLINE AT: www.LONGBAYSYMPHONY.com

February 2013

Special Offer 12 Issues for $24 Name Address City State Zip Send check or money order to Sasee Distribution PO Box 1389 Murrells Inlet, SC 29576

Rise to the Occasion

january

www.sasee.com 33

Chris Cervini Chris Cervini, owner of Christopher’s Fine Jewelry, travels to snowy climates in the winter.

“I love to snow ski and usually head out to Colorado. If I’m in the area, I try to get out on the golf course, but I’m usually working!” While this busy businessman doesn’t have a lot of time to read, Chris does treasure time spent in a good book—a real book! “Right now I’m reading A Father’s Gift, by Kenneth Wingate and Business Stripped Bare, by Richard Branson. When there is time, Chris also enjoys movies—his recent favorite is the new James Bond movie, but he likes anything with Robert Redford or Paul Newman.

Caffeine is a no-no for Chris. “I drink mostly water, but I do enjoy the occasional martini or glass of wine.” He also treats himself to the infrequent Philly cheese steak from Tony’s Pizza or, sometimes, a really good cheeseburger. As for vacations, other than his winter ski trips, Chris’s travels in the winter are limited to an annual business trip in February.”

Customers of Christopher’s Fine Jewelry have some surprises in store for 2013. “I have some new lines coming in—I can’t divulge what they are yet, but I am excited about these fresh, unique designs. I’ve been in business for 19 years and love the diversity and challenges this business brings me. Even though it’s sometimes hard to choose, I really look forward to doing the buying for Christopher’s. Most importantly, I have wonderful, close relationships with my customers, and create new ones daily, whether they’re bringing a cherished piece in for me to redesign or looking for something new and unique. This is a happy business—I’m helping people celebrate emotional, special occasions.”

Christopher’s Fine Jewelry, 11412 Ocean Hwy., Pawleys Island, 843-237-3773 www.christophersfinejewelry.com

Vicki Haselden Johns & Jean Haselden Vicki Haselden Johns, partner in Revive Your Style, is definitely a warm weather person. “I love the beach all year round!” A “real” book lover, Vicki’s favorite book is an old Bible. “The cover is worn thin and the pages are fragile. The only clue to the age is a handwritten list of names inside the back cover. The date is noted as November 2, 1896.” A lifelong coffee drinker, Vicki remembers mornings spent with her grandfather. “Papa and I would share a cup of coffee (mine being mostly sugar and milk). It’s a memory that has sparked a lifelong love of coffee.”

Barbeque is Vicki’s favorite winter comfort food. “Some of my fondest memories revolve around a log cabin in the woods in Georgetown County. It was a place we called ‘The Pond’ and it was the setting for many family gatherings and pig-pickings. There was no heat, only a huge fireplace that we kept going all night. The cabin smelled of wood and oranges as we always tossed our orange rinds in the fire.”

Early in January, Revive Your Style will host a Sunday afternoon open house. “We are planning an expansion of our business. This store is new and exciting to us, and we believe it will be to our customers. A year ago, this was not even a dream, much less a dream come true! Within six weeks of the first thought of opening Revive Your Style, we had found the location, obtained the lease, renovated the building, stocked the store and opened for business!” Vicki operates Revive Your Style with her brother, Bill Haselden, sister-in-law, Jean Haselden and good friend Teresa Turberville. “I think we all came together with a desire to learn, work hard and succeed. The fun and laughter are bonuses and blessings.” Find Revive Your Style on Facebook: “We love it when people ‘like’ us!”

Revive Your Style, 13089 Ocean Hwy., Pawleys Island 843-235-0067 www.facebook.com/reviveoflitchfield

Wm. Jackson Epperson, M.D. Wm. Jackson Epperson, M.D., of Bio-Identical Hormones, located at Inlet Medical & Dental Center in Murrells Inlet, enjoys outdoor winter activities like duck hunting, but his favorite thing is spending time with his family. “I enjoy reading non-fiction,” began Dr. Epperson. “Right now I’m reading a ‘real book’ I bought at Mepkin Abbey in Charleston called Remember to Live Your Life Now. As for movies, my wife and I recently saw Lincoln, but I was not impressed from a historical point of view. My favorite movie memory is watching Home Alone with my son Joey when he was little. That was a fun movie.”

Intent on good health, Dr. Epperson does not drink coffee. “I drink water most of the time. It is healthier.”

And his favorite food is broccoli. “I eat it at most meals.” Travel for Dr. Epperson means going to a milder climate. “I love to go where it is warm.”

Dr. Epperson has been treating patients with hormone health issues for over 25 years. There are established advances in hormone treatments that he has carefully researched in his efforts to create a top quality program. Bio-Identical Hormones focuses on each patient’s special needs, with trustworthy scientific knowledge, to provide the best and safest management possible. This new approach is being enjoyed by thousands of patients in America and Europe where new supporting studies are being published every day. So many patients, especially women, suffer every day (and night) from the loss or imbalance of their hormones. Many more live sub-optimal lives as they think that they must tolerate unpleasant symptoms as a normal part of aging. “We are delighted to assist you in regaining your joy and life. Weight loss is achievable. Hormone balancing has numerable benefits—balance is the key. We can help you gain control of your life.”

Bio-Identical Hormones, Inc., 912 Inlet Square Dr., Murrells Inlet, 843-651-0215 www.biohrt-sc.com

BUSINESS Ed & Mo Russo

Mo and Ed Russo, father and son, as well as co-owners of Fitness N’ FriendZ, are originally from Florida and enjoy being outside in mild weather, working on cars or sailing. When it is too cold to be outside, both men are quick to pick up a book—mostly inspirational or entrepreneurial.

Movies are another fun winter activity, and James Bond flicks are a favorite of father and son. Mo used to drink a lot of coffee. “I weighed over 200 pounds and when I got serious about hitting my 160 pound goal, I cut out everything, including coffee with creamer. Now it’s just black coffee or green tea for me.” Ed is not a coffee drinker—his morning drink is Red Bull.

Ed was quick to name his favorite winter comfort food. “Being Italian, I love pasta, it’s simple and satisfying.” Mo’s diet keeps him on his toes where food is concerned, but he could “eat seafood seven days a week!” Winter travel is usually limited to visits to Maine to visit family. Ed loves to snowboard, and Mo enjoys the fresh lobster!

Fitness N’ FriendZ is a new business, open only three months, and is having their grand opening on January 11th and 12th. “We offer Barre and Zumba® Fitness classes at all times of the day,” said Mo. “My son and I are two of only four licensed Zumba® instructors in the area. Our two Barre instructors both taught at ‘Barre Las Vegas.’ Barre incorporates basic Ballet moves, Pilates and Yoga in an intense low impact workout. It is not an easy class but we have clients of all ages, from my youngest son of 14 to women over 60 years young! Barre and Zumba® make a great combination! We also offer other dance exercise programs and plan on offering other Zumba® Specialty Classes such as Zumbatomic®, classes geared to the kids.”

Fitness N’ FriendZ, Hwy. 17N. Surfside Plaza, Surfside Beach, 843-796-0336 www.FitnessNFriendZ.com

On January 12, 2013, hundreds of local “plungers” will be “Freezin’ For A Reason” at Springmaid Beach Resort in Myrtle Beach. Individuals and teams sign up and enlist the help of friends, family and co-workers to raise money for Special Olympics.

The kickoff is at 10 am, with music, games and a 50/50 raffle. Festivities continue, including a costume parade and contest, until the 2 pm Polar Plunge when participants rush into the ocean!

Local weatherman, Ed Piotrowski, an annual plunger, says water temperatures are usually in the mid 40s, but occasionally as warm as the lower 50s…still breathtakingly cold!

Last year, more than $75,000 was raised to benefit Special Olympics South Carolina. This year, the goal is to raise $100,000 with more than 700 plungers participating!

In South Carolina, thousands of people with intellectual disabilities benefit from the opportunity to participate in Special Olympics.

The organization receives no federal funding and relies on private and corporate support as well as the efforts of hundreds of volunteers to provide services at no cost to the athletes and their families.

Come join the fun!

36 www.sasee.com

january

A NATIONAL HISTORIC LANDMARK

From cruises on the creek and overland excursions on the Trekker, to engaging animal programs and a new butterfly house there is always something new and exciting at Brookgreen Gardens.

ARTISANS • BOUTIQUES • LOCAL TREASURES Comfortable indoor environment • 50 unique boutiques An Uncommon Shopping Destination

This National Historic Landmark is home to the only accredited zoo on the coast of the Carolinas and one of the most significant figurative sculpture collections in the world!

For more information call

(800) 849-1931 or visit www.brookgreen.org

Visit us inside Harvest Commons

$14 Adults, $12 Seniors, $7 Children 4-12

& Children under 3 are FREE!

Trendy Clothing & Accessories with names like Coveted Clothing, Glam, Karlie, and YA Los Angeles!

ADMISSION IS GOOD FOR 7 DAYS!

Located on Highway 17 between Murrells Inlet and Pawleys Island.

312 Commerce Dr. • Pawleys Island Monday - Saturday 10am - 5pm

843-235-2630

Advertiser Index

Barbara’s Fine Gifts . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 17 En Facé . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 7 McLeod Health . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 40 Rose Arbor Fabrics . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 17 Bio-Identical Hormones . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 5 Fitness N’ FriendZ . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 19 Me & Mommy . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 19 Shades & Draperies . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 5 Bouvier Tax & Financial Services, Inc. . . . . . . . . . . 19 Grady’s Jewelers . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 7 Miller- Motte Myrtle Beach . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 11 St. Christopher’s Children . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 39 Bright Blue Sea Bookshelf . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 9 Grand Strand Plastic Surgery . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 10 Millie’s . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 15 Take 2 Resale . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 17 Brookgreen Gardens . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .37 Harvest Commons . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 37 Palmetto Ace Home Center . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 9 The Tulip Tree . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 19 Butler Lighting . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 7 Inlet Square Mall . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 9 Palmetto Paint & Design Center . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 9 WEZV . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 33 Cabana Gauze . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 13 The Kangaroo Pouch . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 13 The Pink Cabana . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 19 Wine and Design . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 19 CHD Interiors . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 3 Lands End Restaurant . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 15 Pounds Away of Myrtle Beach . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 10 Women in Philanthropy and Leadership . . . . . . . . 2 David E. Grabeman, D.D.S., P.A. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 17 Lilla . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 37 Revive Your Style . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 15 Eleanor Pitts Fine Gifts & Jewelry . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 5 Long Bay Symphony . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 33 Rice Paddy Restaurant . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 11

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“Dirt’N Details” horticultural program at Brookgreen Gardens, noon-1 pm, free with garden admission. For more info, call 843-235-6000 or visit www.brookgreen.org.

The Great Gatsby Affair, a fundraiser for The Myrtle Beach Art Museum, 7-11 pm, Pine Lakes Country Club, $150 per person. To request an invitation, call 843-238-2510.

Moveable Feast, Judy Goldman discusses Losing My Sister, 11 am, Ocean One, $25. For more info, call 843-235-9600 or visit www.classatpawleys.com.

Steppin’ Out With Ben Vereen, a benefit for “The Pardue Children in Need Fund,” performing with Long Bay Symphony, 7:30 pm, Alabama Theater.

For tickets or more info, call 843-448-8379 or visit www.longbaysymphony.com.

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FPC Concert Series, Benjamin Beilman, Violin & Yekwon Sunwoo, Piano, First Presbyterian Church, Myrtle Beach, 1 pm. For more info, call 843-448-4496 or visit www.myrtlebeachpresbyterianchurch.org.

“Down by the Riverside and Other Spirituals,” new program by Ron Daise at Brookgreen Gardens, 1 pm, free with garden admission. For more info, call 843-235-6000 or visit www.brookgreen.org.

Mid-Winter SOS (Society of Shaggers), North Myrtle Beach, various events throughout the area.

For more info, call 843-281-2662 or visit www.shagdance.com.

Annual 5K & 15K, 9 am, McLean Park, North Myrtle Beach. For more info, call 843-272-1717 or visit www.grandstrandrunner.com.

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Visit www.sasee.com for a full calendar and more Sasee events!

Moveable Feast, Helen Correll discusses Middlewood Journal: Drawing Inspiration from Nature, 11 am, Kimbel’s, Wachesaw Plantation, $25.

For more info, call 843-235-9600 or visit www.classatpawleys.com.

Myrtle Beach Quilt Party and Vendor Extravaganza, Myrtle Beach Marriott Resort & Spa. For more info, visit www.mbqp.net or e-mail myrtlebeachquiltparty@gmail.com.

Masterpieces of the Modern Era, Long Bay Symphony, 4 pm, Myrtle Beach High School, 3302 Robert M. Grissom Pkway. For tickets or more info, call 843-448-8379 or visit www.longbaysymphony.com.

FPC Concert Series, The Manhattan Piano Trio, First Presbyterian Church, Myrtle Beach, 1 pm.

For more info, call 843-448-4496 or visit www.myrtlebeachpresbyterianchurch.org.

St. Christopher’s Children A community-based, all-volunteer, nonprofit organization, St. Christopher’s Children provides basic clothing for children in critical need and refers them to medical professionals when no one else is there.

Help us help these children

Join us for the:

3rd Annual Gala Dinner Dance Saturday, February 9, 2013 Pawleys Plantation Ballroom

Reception: 6pm

Dinner: 7pm

Music by Karen and Carl

Silent & Live Auctions

Open Bar all Evening Raffles Special Moments

Reservations: $100 per person. Please reserve by January 25 Call: 843-235-0777 • Email: info@StChristophersChildren.org St. Christopher’s Children, P.O. Box 749, Pawleys Island, SC 29585 Phone: (843)235-0777 • Email: info@StChristophersChildren.org • www.StChristophersChildren.org

Pee Dee Cardiology Joins McLeod McLeod has set the standard for quality heart and vascular care in the region for more than 50 years. Joining forces with skilled and experienced cardiologists, interventional cardiologists and electrophysiologists like those at Pee Dee Cardiology, has made us a leading source for the treatment, diagnosis, management and prevention of cardiovascular diseases. For more than 25 years, Pee Dee Cardiology has provided patients throughout the region with the highest quality adult cardiovascular care possible.

Pee Dee Cardiology welcomes physician and self referrals.

McLeod Physician Associates www.McLeodHealth.org McLeod Medical Park East 901 E. Cheves Street, Suite 600, Florence, SC 29506 • 843-667-1891 McLeod Loris Office 3485 Mitchell Street, Loris, SC 29569 • 843-756-7029 Left to Right: Dr. Prabal K. Guha, Dr. Fred M. Krainin, Dr. Anil Om, Dr. Rajesh Malik, Dr. Nicolette B. Naso, Dr. Thomas L. Stoughton, Dr. James T. Lee, Dr. Gavin M. Leask, Dr. Amit V. Pande, Dr. Alan M. Blaker, Dr. Nathan J.S. Almeida,

McLeod Seacoast Office 3980 Highway 9, Suite 220 Little River, SC 29566 • 843-390-0877 1-800-299-5689

Dr. Evans P. Holland, Jr., Dr. W. Daniel Hardaway 50057-PeeDee Cardiology Sasee 9x10.125.indd 1

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