Sasee March 2013

March 2013 Priceless www.sasee.com

Flowers always make people better, happier and more helpful; they are the sunshine, food and medicine for the soul.

– Luther Burbank

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featured articles

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March 2013 Volume 12, Issue 3

who’s who

Late Bloomers

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 Graphic Artist Scott Konradt Accounting Ronald Pacetti Administrative Assistant Barbara J. Leonard Executive Publishers Jim Creel Bill Hennecy Tom Rogers

by Ferida Wolff

In My Easter Bonnet

by Marsha Tennant

Bloom Where You’re Planted

by Melissa Face

Peace Be With You

by Diane DeVaughn Stokes

Lessons Learned

by Susan Erdmann

Southern Snaps

by Leslie Moore

For The Love of Gram

by Monica A. Andermann

Finally Organized?

by Diane Stark

Paw-Paw Always Believed

by Linda O’Connell

A Grandparent’s Love

by Janey Womeldorf

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 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

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

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

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Sasee is published monthly and distributed free along the Grand Strand. For subscription info, see page 39. 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.

10 22 34 38

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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contributing writers letter from the editor There are a lot of people writing about the chemicals we use every day and how they may be affecting us. Consequently, like many of my friends and family, I’m trying to reduce my exposure. I have five dogs, so I clean a lot (constantly), and I decided cleaning products would be a good place to start. I found a couple of recipes for a citrus cleaner on my new favorite social media site, Pinterest, and made them up. Boy was I pleasantly surprised! I never thought I could replace my bleach and pine cleaner with vinegar, orange peels and baking soda, but I haven’t bought any commercial cleaners since that first bottle. Next, I decided to try making laundry detergent, and again, I hit the eco-friendly cleaner jackpot – clean clothes with no harsh chemicals. I didn’t do quite as well with the dish detergent recipe, but I haven’t given up. On top of being “green,” my homemade cleaners are very inexpensive to make – definitely a plus. I’ve gotten fancier since that first bottle, and now I add lemon or orange essential oil to accent the cleaning power and to add more of that “clean” scent. My spray bottles now have pretty labels, too – just because I like them.

Sasee is on Pinterest now, please come “follow” us! And, if you’re on Facebook, you can now find an e-book version of Sasee there each month. Please take a look at our “virtual” offerings and let us know what you think!

Happy Spring!

Monica A. Andermann lives and writes on Long Island. Her poetry, essays, and features have been widely published both online and in print media, including close to two dozen credits in the Chicken Soup for the Soul books.

Susan Erdmann is a mother, a writer, and a freelance grant seeker for non-profit organizations and public schools. She lives in Southeastern Wisconsin, with her husband and two children.

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.

Linda O’Connell is a preschool teacher and freelance writer from St. Louis, Missouri. As Linda waltzed through the decades, she discovered her age of elegance was in her forties, but she isn’t complaining. Linda resides in the Midwest but her heart and soul hang out at the beach.

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.

Marsha Tennant is the author of the children’s book, Margaret, Pirate Queen. She was recently published in AARP Bulletin and Mary Jane’s Farm. She and her husband retired and moved to the beach from Calabash in A Daughter’s Wish, by Buffy Patterson an attempt to downsize and spend time with their new grandson. A second Pirate Queen book is As a child, Buffy Patterson always loved to draw and circling while porch sitting these days! express herself through the arts, but after marrying and having a child, Buffy chose a career in Law Enforcement. Seven years ago, Ferida Wolff is author of 17 books the artist’s mother, a registered nurse for 42 years, was suddenly for children and three essay diagnosed with Alzheimer’s. After many anxious, sleepless nights, books for adults; the latest is Buffy picked up a paintbrush and felt a weight had been lifted.

Missed Perceptions: Challenge Your Art, she decided, would be her therapy.

Thoughts Change Your Thinking From there, Buffy’s love of art and artists grew into the from Pranava Books. Wolff is a frequent contribopening of breathe in Pawleys Island, an eclectic space which utor to the Chicken Soup for the Soul series. Her showcases local artists, boutiques and food for the soul – you just “get it” when you walk through the website is www.feridawolff.com, and she can be door. Buffy shares breathe with her talented artist daughter, Shantelle, who recently graduated from reached at feridawolff@msn.com.

Coastal Carolina with a BA. Buffy has been married to her best friend Jim for 26 years and has an amazing, blessed life – even through the bad times. Her father dedicates his time and love to taking care of Janey Womeldorf is a freelance Buffy’s mom until she is called home. Her mother’s journey inspired this painting and is Buffy’s dream for writer who drinks too much coffee. her mom. Contact the artist at breathe pieces of the soul in Pawleys Island or call 843-314-3320.

She scribbles away in Orlando, Florida.

cover artist

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L at e

I was in my side yard with gardening tools at the ready. Spring had just arrived and the flowerbed needed some attention. Although much of the garden was already beginning to bud – the Redbud tree in the back, the crocuses in front, and a host of daffodils on the side – the hibiscus looked quite dead. The white, hollow stalks bore no resemblance to the beautiful plant that had enticed me to buy it at the nursery last year. They assured me I would have flowers every year. Had I been taken advantage of?

I was about to dig up the whole plant when my brother-in-law came by and stopped me in my tracks.

“Don’t do it!” he said.

“Why not?” I asked.

“Because the hibiscus blooms later in the season. You can trim back the stalks but don’t uproot it.”

“Oh,” I said, shovel suspended inches from the earth. “A late bloomer, huh?”

The phrase brought me back to my childhood. My parents used to call me a late bloomer. I was shy and didn’t let many people get close. I was quiet in school, rarely raising my hand even when I knew the answer, afraid that I might be wrong. I remained un-bloomed until high school when I suddenly discovered myself and was pleasantly surprised at what I found. I had grown in skill and confidence and was ready to move out into the world.

I looked down at the hibiscus. From what I was observing, it didn’t seem likely that there would be any growth, but it wouldn’t hurt to wait and see what happened. If my parents could wait for me to bloom, surely I could do the same for the plant. I put away the shovel, at least for a while, and focused on cleaning up the yard.

As more of the garden flowered I kept peeking at the hibiscus, looking for signs of life. There wasn’t much. I eventually stopped checking on it and turned my efforts toward appreciating the other flowering plants.

Then one day my neighbor, whose back patio borders my yard, said, “What are those huge flowers growing in your garden?”

Huge flowers? What flowers?

I hustled around the house, and there they were; plate-sized hibiscus flowers in full, incredible bloom! My brother-in-law was right; this was a late bloomer. It was worth the wait. I was dazzled by the magnificent blossoms; the flowers were nine or ten inches each, in an enticing red! And there were buds galore. What a display for a plant whose name means “delicate beauty.”

I found out many things about the plant during its long flowering period. I learned that hibiscus flowers can be eaten. I have tasted nasturtiums, taken from my flowerpot one year, (they had a peppery taste) but I didn’t know that hibiscus was edible, too, though I should have known. I am a tea drinker, and it is listed in the ingredients in lots of herbal teas. Hibiscus can be added to salads, is available as hibiscus honey and syrup.

The plant also has a long history of medical use. Claims have been made for it as an antioxidant, as an aid in keeping the digestive tract functioning regularly and it’s said to be a help in weight loss. There’s actually quite a long list of healthful possibilities.

I discovered so many aspects to this plant that I was grateful I didn’t uproot it and cut short its promise. But I guess that goes for all of nature, people included. We can usually find something unexpected, un-thought of, surprising, enlightening, fascinating or helpful about everything if we choose to see it. My experience with the hibiscus helped me not to jump to conclusions, to remember that we all take our time to share the best of ourselves.

Now I will wait patiently for the hibiscus to bloom each spring. I know it will develop when it is ready, as I did. But if the hibiscus is any example, then we late bloomers are worth the wait.

Bloomers

by Ferida Wolff

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Taylor Says…

Read The Passage,

by Justin Cronin

by Taylor Nelson 10 www.sasee.com

“It happened fast. Thirty-two minutes for one world to die, another to be born.”

If you like an exciting, spooky story, this one is for you. It starts off with law enforcement officers gathering death row inmates for a secret government experiment that hopes to create “immortal humans.” Of course, the experiment doesn’t work, and the first twelve subjects instead become immortal, bloodthirsty vampires. The thirteenth subject is a twelveyear old girl, Amy, and with her they finally succeed in creating a true immortal. The vampires or “Virals” break free of the prison and subsequently kill most of

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Bloom!

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Nearly one hundred years later, the Earth is a much different place. A party from one of the encampments receives a radio signal from the original military installation that created the Virals. The message instructs anyone who finds Amy to bring her there. The group decides to journey to the military installation and see if anyone survived, and on their journey they find Amy hiding in a shopping mall…

With The Passage, award-winning author Justin Cronin has written a riveting story of human endurance in the face of massive disaster. This is the first book of a trilogy; the second book, The Twelve, was released last year, and the final book, The City of Mirrors, is due to be released next year.

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In My Easter Bonnet

by Marsha Tennant

…with all the frills upon it. I WAS the grandest young lady at my church on Easter Sunday morning!

In the South, Easter Sunday is serious business. I will admit that it has gone through changes and transformations in styles and attitudes. What we wear for this day of resurrection and rebirth requires planning and strategic shopping. Some families still shop at the same stores (if the stores survived) or purchase the same labels. Of all the celebrations, Easter seems to hold more tightly to familial traditions.

Drive by a church on this particular Sunday and one will witness an array of color, creativity and old-fashioned design.

Church going is more casual now. “Ya’ll come” invites everyone to share the sense of community and doctrine. The dress code is no longer rigid. I can remember hearing my mother say that she couldn’t go to church “looking like this.” I think it had something to do with her jacket that she was trying to repurpose. That applied to fashion as well. Good thing that has changed or the church pews could be empty. Easter was the pinnacle of fashion. New York has fashion week. Down here we have fashion Sunday. Like everything, there are good and not so good things about this state of (Southern) mind.

White gloves, mustard seed necklaces, black or white patent leather shoes and an Easter bonnet were the must-haves in my childhood. The dresses changed from year to year but not the accessories. Those were standard. As I approached my thirteenth birthday I was determined to change my look and march into young womanhood with my own personal statement.

The teen girls of my church gathered at the bottom of the sanctuary steps to giggle, gossip and flirt with the boys who ran up the steps to sit with their families. This was the adolescent version of preparation. I had been observing this ritual for months leading up to Easter Sunday. I knew that would be my opportunity to finally ease into this exclusive club. I had to look like I belonged.

I would need to ditch the Mary Jane patent leather shoes for sure. I

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could talk my mom in to a more mature looking dress that she produced from her Singer sewing machine. No netting under the dress this year. Those were easy challenges. Gloves and necklace were not worth fighting about. I was planning my argument for a new bonnet…NOT! No more wide brimmed straw with ribbon and plastic flowers. That was a flaming beacon that screamed little girl! That had to go! How to accomplish it would take some planning.

The Girls Club at the bottom of the church steps required a wide headband with a few understated embellishments adorning the velveteen crown. The visible distinction between girlhood and young womanhood was the veil. I had to navigate my way to wearing one of these. I could change everything else, and the girls would not notice. I had to walk up to them in my veiled crown.

Then, and only then, they would part the waters and welcome me as a member of the club.

I was willing to sell my soul to achieve that moment. I carefully chose my battles with my parents. This was the year of conflicts as I ran head first, into being a teenager. For this Sunday I was willing to compromise and concede. I wore the white gloves, necklace and not so grown-up blue flowered, polished cotton dress. I stopped talking about shaving my legs for a week. I had a mission to complete.

Easter Sunday morning arrived. I could hardly wait for us to park in the church parking lot. I was ready to take the walk from childhood to young womanhood. I heard the giggles as I stepped out of my family car. The colors were vibrant and beautiful. The boys were circling, punching one another and mumbling under their breaths. I approached the girls with confidence and excitement. My headband was robin’s egg blue with white cloth flowers on each side. The white veil was carefully attached and flowed over the band with grace and elegance. The girls turned, spoke my name and welcomed me. In my Easter bonnet.

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Bloom

Where You’re Planted

by Melissa Face

After a peaceful eight hours of sleep, I wake up; run a mile or two on my treadmill, take a shower, and dress. Then, I prepare breakfast for my twoyear-old, Evan. Sometimes we have pancakes or waffles, and some days we eat cereal. He is happy either way.

I enjoy a couple cups of coffee while he eats, and we plan our day. I dress Evan in his favorite choo choo shirt, jeans and fire truck shoes, and we watch an episode of “Super Why” on PBS. Then, we dance to the Wiggles, crawl on the floor like ruff-ruffs, and roar like dinosaurs. We do everything Evan wants, and it is a splendid morning.

Before we know it, it’s time for lunch. Evan requests macaroni and cheese, green beans and applesauce. Since that is right in line with my culinary skills, he gets his wish. We eat, make funny faces and laugh. Life is good.

After lunch, Evan takes a two-hour nap, and I spend that time reading, writing an essay and organizing a couple of closets. I am amazed at how productive I can be while he rests.

Then, Evan wakes up, and we decide to go outdoors. He wants to drive his little tikes fire truck, blow bubbles and talk to the neighbors, Fay and Donna. I am so happy to have time to chat with neighbors, breathe the fresh air and watch my child play. Life couldn’t be better.

Or could it?

While I have lived this particular day, it is not exactly my typical routine. I am not a stay-at-home mom; I am a working mom.

In reality, I get about 5 or 6 hours of sleep, wake up, shower, pour my coffee into a travel mug and head out the door. Some days I am at work before my husband and child have gotten out of bed. Other days, I get to give them each a quick kiss before heading to my car.

Each day I teach high school English for about 7 hours, attend meetings, drive to pick up my child, and start the evening routine of dinner, playtime, bath time, bedtime, lesson planning, grading and preparing for the next day.

It is an exhausting whirlwind of a schedule that often leaves me wishing for a different life, a life much like the one I first described.

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This is what happens when I spend too much time staring at the lush, green grass on the other side of the fence. It appears perfect and maintenance free. But it’s not. Every life requires a certain degree of hard work, and every child-rearing scenario has the potential for stress. I know this, even though I sometimes need a reminder.

I have spent hours calculating my family’s expenses, trying to find a way to survive on one income. I still can’t seem to make it work for us. I have stayed up late reading articles about the pros and cons of staying at home and working outside the home. The only thing I really learned from my research is that there is an abundance of literature that both supports and criticizes any decision a person could choose to make.

While I ponder my decisions and current situation, a certain phrase keeps popping in my head: bloom where you’re planted. My grandmother gave me this advice a long time ago, and she said her mother used to say it to her. It really is great advice and it summarizes everything that I need to do in terms of making the most of my situation.

While I am at work, my child is with a caring sitter whose home is just down the street from ours, and two days per week he is with my parents.

Evan is verbal, social and very well adjusted. He loves his daycare buddies, and he enjoys the individual attention of my parents.

And he is loved – immensely.

Since I teach, I have weekends, holiday breaks and summers at home with Evan. I do get a taste of the stay-at-home mom life from time to time, and it is a wonderful opportunity.

My vivacious toddler is happy wherever he is. He looks for the good things in every environment. And I need to do the same. From now on, I am making the decision to spend less time worrying and stressing, and more time savoring my moments with Evan.

Childhood and life in general, pass far too quickly. I can’t waste any more time watching the grass in other people’s yards.

I’m going to dig deep into the soil of life and bloom right where I’m planted.

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A beautiful store located at the traffic light in South Litchfield Beach.

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Let us know if you’re coming by to sit on the porch. We will be sure to have sweet tea and maybe even a slice of pound cake.

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Peace Be With You

by Diane DeVaughn Stokes

Possessed. Yes, some folks would describe me as possessed when it comes to being organized. I know my husband does. And you may say the same thing about me when you hear how persnickety I am about certain aspects of my life. In fact, there are times I want to scream if I am feeling unorganized. How I got like this, I don’t know. Sometimes, I just wish I didn’t stress about having everything in order. It makes me nuts, but when stuff is in its proper place, I am at peace. Peace? Did I say that? I sound like a flower child! However, anyone who is a neat freak like me can identify with the peace and calm that will fill your soul when order wins over disorganization.

Just this past weekend, two of my best girlfriends and I had this major discussion about being organized. Jan agreed with me, and after hearing her tales she may be even more possessed than I am about her state of order, yet Mary said she just could not get around to organizing anything. She even asked us if our underwear drawers were organized or did we just shove them in unfolded? I told her that I have my black ones in the front of the drawer, the beige ones behind those, and the white, which I wear least, in the back. Mary also wanted to know if we had a junk drawer. We both responded yes, but it’s still organized!

In my teenage years, my parents never had to tell me to straighten up my bedroom. I was the neat-nik in the family, unlike my sister who lived in a constant ball of wadded up clothes and bed linens. Mom just shut her door so none of us had to see it, especially incoming guests.

And I must say that my husband Chuck is not the tidiest man I have ever met, but he isn’t the full-blown pig that many women have to deal with.

Boy, am I lucky. Just like in the movie The Odd Couple, I am the Felix Unger of the household. Clean, not always, but neat, yes!

The New Year always throws me into the biggest tizzy. That’s when I really get into the groove. Once I put my Christmas decorations away, I start to make lists of all the things I plan to accomplish before the end of January: clean out all unwanted winter clothes and give to charity, wipe out pantry shelves and purge all out dated canned goods, toss out unused spices from the

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spice rack, organize the bathroom closet getting rid of outdated medicines and making sure the cat pantry where I keep all the kitty goods is clean and tidy.

That’s just for starters. The list gets longer each and every year. Not sure whether that’s because I am more possessed with each passing year, or because I have more stuff. Either way, it’s a January ritual.

Can we talk make-up drawer for a moment? Yuk. I organize and wipe it down at least three times a year. Anything I am going to put on my face needs to be clean as a whistle. As for my jewelry cabinet, silver is in one place, gold in another, the cheap accessories in another spot, earrings have a cubbyhole, while rings have another, so that in the morning when I am rushing out to work, I know where every piece is located.

I’ve also become a maniac about recycling. Having served as the recycling spokesperson for the Horry County Solid Waste Authority for twenty years, advocating “Reduce, Reuse. Recycle,” I am constantly taking recyclables out of the garbage can that my husband tries to sneak by me. I put them where they belong, so that they may someday have renewed life! I am really glad, however, that this gig came to an end, as I was sick and tired of being referred to as the “TV trash lady” and even more afraid that someone would go through my trash can and accidently find some item that should have been recycled and blow it out of proportion.

There’s one more area that I am totally organized about. Now don’t freak out when I tell you.

It’s death. I figure I want to be as organized going to heaven as I have been on earth, so I have a will, health care power of attorney, a list of what I want done at my funeral, songs I want sung and who I wish my precious belongings to be left to when I am gone. This, too, gives me peace.

I really do hate the stress I put myself through in an effort to be organized, but there is comfort and a sense of accomplishment when it’s all done.

For me, there would so much more stress if I lived in disarray and disorder. So, for all my Sasee sisters out there, if you are feeling out of sync, maybe it’s time to get everything in your life in order. It can’t hurt, you know. Best of all, you, too, may find peace.

march

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www.sasee.com 17

Lessons Learned

by Susan Erdmann

As I write this, I am 22 years old, but I remember the day before my 10th birthday as if it were yesterday. That was the day my mother, brother and I met a group of volunteers from a battered women’s shelter who taught us the meaning of the saying, “If you think you are too small to be effective you’ve never been in bed with a mosquito.”

It was just before lunch on a hot August morning. My dad and I had just returned from the beach. My dad was a lot of fun that morning. Mornings were his best time of day. Every afternoon he drank a 24 pack of beer. If we were lucky, he would pass out in his favorite chair – a ratty old recliner – by dinnertime.

Out of sight out of mind wasn’t just a saying at our house – it was how we survived. My mother taught us early on to tiptoe around the house or play outside when Daddy was drinking. If it were quiet, he would fall asleep. If he didn’t fall asleep, like clockwork, around dinnertime, he turned into a monster that beat my mother, threatened to kill us, smashed furniture, family pictures and toys…anything that mattered.

Shortly after we returned from the lake, my mom came home from work. It was her payday. My dad wanted her to cash her paycheck and give him money to buy beer and cigarettes. She usually did – just to keep him happy. But this time she said “no.” She said she was using the money to buy my birthday present, cake and decorations so I could have a nice party.

“Here we go,” I thought. He grabbed her by the neck, lifted her off the ground and then threw her to the floor. She curled into a ball while he kicked her back and head.

Just like always, I cried and yelled for him to stop; just like always my brother screamed. Just like always, my mom, wincing in pain, told my dad she was sorry. He would throw the car keys at her (he didn’t have a license – too many drunk driving arrests), she would load my little brother and me into the car – all without shedding a tear – and off to the store we’d go to buy beer.

I used to think my mother didn’t see things in black and white. I thought she analyzed a person’s motivation for bad behavior to a fault. On the day before my 10th birthday, after all of these years, she finally decided to let her evolutionary side kick in and pick flight over fight.

That day, when we got in the car, we drove right past the grocery store to the bank. Without saying a word to us she took us by our hands, marched in to the bank and withdrew money from a bank account that she had set up without my dad knowing. As it turns out, she had money for car

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payments, rent and attorney fees stashed in that account. She dropped my brother and me off at her best friend’s house and drove to Safe Harbor, a battered women’s shelter in our town. They helped her file a restraining order and police reports. Everyone kept us safe until my dad was arrested and locked away in the county jail.

I had never heard of Safe Harbor before. Today I know it as a place where no matter who walks through the door, or what time of day it is, that person is welcome and safe. I learned that domestic violence statistics are staggering but there are people in this world with the hearts of angels willing to face overwhelming statistics to make our world a better place. I learned what my mother knew all along – escaping someone like my dad is the most dangerous time for domestic violence survivors. I learned that my mother was done fighting and had been planning our flight for some time.

For over a year, we spent every Wednesday night there. My mom attended “group” while my brother and I played with volunteers and other children from families just like ours. In December, Safe Harbor volunteers arranged for my little brother and I to “Shop with a Cop” for Christmas presents. The following summer, Safe Harbor arranged for me to spend a week at Girl Scout Camp – a place where I made some of my dearest friends. And, every other week for six months someone from the shelter mailed us grocery store gift cards for $25. This may not seem like a lot, but battered women living on limited incomes know an extra $50 or $75 a month is the difference between just getting by and not getting by. Not getting by is the main reason women return to abusive relationships.

Two years later my dad committed suicide. I think if we had stayed, he would have killed us instead. Thanks to the kindness of volunteers, our story has a happy ending. My mother, inspired by the work of domestic violence volunteers, is now a grant writer for non-profits in our community. I am graduating from college this year. My brother is a happy, healthy teenager.

From this experience, we all learned a powerful lesson: We write our story so we can change the ending.

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2/11/13 11:59 AM www.sasee.com 19

Southern Snaps Marsha Bemko: Reaching Back for Success with “Antiques Roadshow”

by Leslie Moore

I have always found the smell of a musty, long forgotten box of uncertain treasures exciting. The things that someone, usually a family member, found important enough to carefully preserve for future generations are sometimes puzzling, sometimes deeply sentimental, but always interesting and fun.

“Antiques Roadshow,” produced for PBS by WGBH in Boston, appeals to the love we have for things that tie us to our past, and the show’s popularity attests to how many of us can’t get enough of the stories that lie behind each item.

Last June, “Antiques Roadshow” filmed three episodes of the show in Myrtle Beach, and I was fortunate enough to be asked to interview the show’s executive producer, Marsha Bemko. Since “Antiques Roadshow” has been one of my favorite television programs for years, I was very excited. This is a big job, and it didn’t take long to understand why, with Marsha at the helm, the show has been nominated for 10 Emmy® Awards and gained around 10 million viewers.

Marsha’s background is in television – she has been in this business for more than 30 years. She is a published author and sought after speaker, appearing across the country at colleges, community organizations, business groups and public television stations. In addition to her work with “Antiques Roadshow,” Marsha is the executive producer of “Market Warriors,” a new PBS show that premiered last summer. This show follows four dealers to flea markets where they buy something to sell at auction. “When they lose money, we show you,” Marsha laughed.

“I am suited to this job,” she began. “I’ve always been interested in old

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things, but now I am dangerous. I get to see the very best! It never gets old. I have a crew of 15, and it’s like summer camp for big kids!” I asked Marsha what was the average value of the things people brought in for appraisal.

“Anything with a high value, five or six figures, is very rare,” said Marsha. “Most people don’t sell their things anyway, no matter what they are worth.” An Andy Warhol Soup Can collection was the one of the most interesting items Marsha has seen recently. “We were filming a segment in El Paso, Texas. This man bought in several soup cans signed by Andy Warhol and a signed poster he had purchased for $125.” One of the most valuable items ever brought in was an antique Rhinoceros Horn Cup collection in Tulsa, Oklahoma, that was valued at 1 million to 1.5 million dollars.

Each season’s episodes are filmed in the summer, and the show visits eight cities each year, where people can apply for tickets to bring their items for appraisal. Each ticket holder can bring two items. Marsha and the show’s host, Mark L. Walberg, fly in on the Wednesday before the filming that weekend.

“It takes a long time to set up. We travel with huge boxes of books. Our library has information that can’t be found anywhere else.”

After the filming is finished, Marsha spends her time on the plane watching all the video clips – hours and hours of clips – and decides which ones will be aired on the show. By Wednesday, the staff meets to find any mistakes and finalize the selections. “This is public television. Our responsibility is to teach,” Marsha began. “We have 10 million viewers, and I never want to give them a reason to criticize. Our show has changed the world regarding antiques and collectibles.”

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Marsha explained to me that the 70 expert appraisers working the show have decades of experience. A lot of them are the children of dealers and collectors. And, amazingly, they do not get paid to work on the show and pay all of their own expenses. “After 13 years producing this show, I know a lot, but I could never do what they do. Most come back year after year – they are passionate about what they do.” Marsha and her staff are very careful about who they allow to appraise items. Everyone who comes to them is thoroughly checked out beforehand. “Once they are on the show, people trust them.”

If a person comes to the show and decides they want to sell the item they have brought in for appraisal, they are not allowed to talk to the expert who appraised their item. What they can do is get contact information and call later for information. “I always tell people to think long and hard about selling a family heirloom,” Marsha said with a serious look on her face. “You will only get half the value at auction, and then you could never buy it back. If it has sentimental value, hang on to it if you can.”

“People in the south are nicer,” Marsha told me when I asked how she liked the area. “I’ve traveled to every state, and I firmly believe the land shapes the people. Less populated areas are generally kinder.” She did think it was extremely hot here. (Remember how hot and humid it was at the end of June last year!)

I asked Marsha about her life outside of the show and found it parallels the life of working women everywhere – making sure her children have what they need has been her first priority. “I have a good marriage, my husband works in sales. He has always been able to be home for the children while I was traveling. We have three children, two daughters and one son, as well as one grandchild.” A third generation Bostonian, Marsha laughed and told me, “I married a man from New Jersey!” At the time of our meeting, Marsha was planning a trip to Prague to visit her daughter who was completing a Master’s program in Environmental Design.

“My early mentors were men,” said Marsha, while reminising about the early days of her career. “At that time, the few women in the positions I was interested in were not very generous with their knowledge. Now I try to mentor as many women as I can. I see the mistakes young women make and can help them.”

Locally, “Antiques Roadshow” airs on PBS on Monday nights at 8 pm. The Myrtle Beach shows aired in February and early March. For more info on the show, visit www.pbs.org.

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www.sasee.com 21

gets candid

Meet Christy Anouilh

suses you see as you drive by are Ice Folly narcissus, one of the best for our area. There are more than 13 classifications of narcissus, but they all don’t do well in our climate. We also have winter annuals in place – pansies, heuchera, commonly known as coral bells, kale, red mustard and even beets. They all do well through our mild winter and are so beautiful. Heuchera does well here in a shaded bed in the summer and has a lovely bloom. Sometime near the end of April, after our plant sale, we will begin changing the beds to their warm season plantings. We also have beautiful Knockout roses planted at the entrance.

These bushes get pruned once a year, in February.

I supervise a staff of nine horticulturists, but without our volunteers we could not keep up. There are between 30 and 40 regular volunteers who work every week. We also have a landscaping staff of five. Currently, we’re doing a lot of pruning. I really enjoy pruning – it is like a good haircut – it looks much better, but you’re not supposed to be able to tell anything has been done! We do compost the plant material and use some organic soil conditioners.

Brookgreen is moving more and more toward organic gardening practices.

Here, we can plant trees and shrubs all winter, so there’s always a lot to do in the gardens. We are fortunate to have such a huge scope of interesting plant material available to use.

Tell us a little about yourself.

I have worked for Brookgreen Gardens for eleven years, but I was just promoted to Manager of Horticulture last year. I am originally from Martinsville, Virginia, but I came to Murrells Inlet every summer growing up. Even as a child, I loved plants, but I originally wanted to be an interior designer – it’s not that different though, I just changed from indoors to out! I have a degree in Horticulture from J. Sargent Reynolds in Richmond, Virginia.

My husband, Brian Hundley, and I live in Murrells Inlet and have been married for sixteen years. We have two children – a girl, 8, and a boy, 4. We also have three dogs and a constantly changing number of cats. We seem to attract the ones who need a home.

Brian is a server at Carrabba’s in Murrells Inlet.

Even if you don’t visit Brookgreen Gardens regularly, just driving by the spectacular entrance on Hwy. 17 just south of Murrells Inlet gives all of us a chance to experience a little of the beauty that is Brookgreen Gardens. Christy Anouilh, Manager of Horticulture, is one of those hard working “green thumbs” responsible for this incredible place. And, while she does have an office, this talented horticulturist would much rather be outside planning the next needed task to keep the garden beds in top shape.

Christy, tell us a little about how the entrance area is maintained.

All of our horticulturists have assigned areas of the gardens to maintain. They work with our volunteers to keep the beds looking their best year round.

Currently, we have our winter plantings in place. The yellow and white narcis-

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What is your favorite thing about working for Brookgreen Gardens?

That’s hard, I really love it all. The people are probably the best part.

Brookgreen attracts a lot of kind and generous people who volunteer their time to help keep the gardens running smoothly. I like being outside every day. When I walk through the gardens, all my problems just melt away. I can’t imagine being anywhere else.

Editor’s note: Brookgreen Gardens is one of the most beautiful places on Earth.

Locals can buy very reasonable family and individual memberships that will allow you to experience the gardens in all seasons. Spring in Brookgreen is an experience you will never forget! For more information, visit www.brookgreen.org or call 843-235-6000.

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www.sasee.com 23

For The Love of

Gram

by Monica A. Andermann

I looked around my sun porch, stunned. Each and every one of my prized houseplants stood in icy suspension like some frosty fairy tale forest. I sighed and inhaled back an odd scent, a cross between freshly cut grass and dried tea leaves. How could I have let this happen? I asked myself. How could I have been so careless as to leave my porch door swaying open in the frigid January wind over night? I reached up to touch the now brown leaves of my Swedish ivy. They spun to the ground and landed at my feet in silence.

That New Year’s Day, my husband Bill and I awoke to find that our thermostat read 48 degrees despite an incessantly churning furnace. Unfamiliar with the quirks of our new home we investigated, only to discover a frozen pipe had burst in a corner of the sun porch thanks to our own carelessness. I stood there with tears welling. The burst pipe could be repaired. But what about my plants?

One by one, Bill helped me relocate my prized possessions to the living room with the hope that the electric heater we employed there might aid in a thaw. Yet, after a few hours it was clear there were no survivors. I took a painful inventory: the Christmas cactus started from a clipping from my mom’s plant; the jade plant, a birthday gift from the ladies at work; the peace lily that had been carted from apartment to apartment and finally to our new house, purchased as a reminder to always keep peace in the home. And then the magnificent zebra plant from my grandmother’s garden. That one hurt my heart most of all.

Gram’s zebra plant initially started my love affair with greenery. I recalled first noticing that plant as teenager poking around Gram’s garden during one of my visits to her southern home. Her garden was filled with so many tropical wonders, yet this plant with the deep green velvety leaves that reached as long as my arm amazed me. I remembered running my fingers along its purplish stems, passing a palm across the leaf’s sun-warmed surface, smooth as silk: Smooth as Gram’s touch.

When Gram passed away several years earlier, my mother and aunt set out to clean her house and prepare for its sale. At that time, they gave each of the grandchildren an opportunity to request a memento. My choice was simple: Gram’s zebra plant. I can still recall the look on my mother’s face when I made my request. “A plant?” she asked. “That’s what you want?”

I nodded, “Yes.” My mother shook her head, “It’s practically a bush. I can’t dig up the whole thing.” Yet sensing my disappointment, Mom quickly changed her answer. She promised to return home with a hearty clipping complete with a bit of root. When the cutting arrived, I researched its proper care and discovered that this was not just any common zebra plant but a more stately variety, a calathia zebrina.

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I nurtured that clipping until it grew to be as big as Gram’s “bush.”

Each time I walked past that plant and spotted its rich burst of green coming from the shiny brass planter I could practically feel Gram’s touch. Somehow, that plant kept her alive in my heart, kept us connected. I just couldn’t accept its loss.

At my request, my husband now hauled the large container (which by this time held only two naked stems and one with four, sad folded leaves) into a spare bedroom that received a southern exposure. I placed what remained of my beloved zebra plant in front of a window and continued to water it with care.

Within a week, the residual leaves had fallen off and by the end of the month all three stems had rotted into the soil. I plucked the sad reminders from the dirt and pushed the planter into a corner where it stood shadowed in a place where my defeat would be less obvious. Every time I stepped into the spare bedroom, though, I continued to check for signs of life in the dirt where Gram’s plant had once flourished. Invariably, I found nothing but disappointment.

One day in early April I noticed the sunlight had shifted in such a way that it illuminated the corner where the empty brass container now stood.

With hope renewed, I bent down to check the soil once more. Nothing. That was it, I told myself. Now was the time for some early spring cleaning. I would dump the dirt, clean the planter, and store it in the basement where the sight of it could no longer haunt me.

Then I did something for reasons I cannot fully explain. I dropped to my knees, bowed my head, and with palms pressed against the cool of the brass, started to cry. I mean, really cry. I sobbed deep, heart-wrenching, soulcleansing tears right onto the dirt where Gram’s plant so proudly once grew.

And when I opened my eyes, I noticed something sticking up from the puddle my tears had formed – a small green nub. I blinked a few times. I wiped my tears. Probably just a pebble, I thought. Gingerly, I pushed the nub with my finger. That was no pebble. That was the starting of a new plant.

Sixteen years later, Gram’s zebra plant continues to grace my home, restored to its previous magnificence. I’m always reminded of Gram each time I touch those soft, velvety leaves, and I believe that stately zebra plant still keeps us connected. And while I’m sure there is a perfectly logical horticultural reason that Gram’s plant came back to life after its season of dormancy, I prefer my own reasoning on the subject: the same love that kept Gram alive in my heart, also brought one very special calathia zebrina back into bloom.

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www.sasee.com 25

Finally Organized?

by Diane Stark

I’m always looking for the next big thing. In organizational tools, that is. I’m a sucker for containers that will supposedly organize my stuff. I love to buy school supplies that I think might help me become more organized so I can get more writing done. (Recently I found a purse-size notebook with a pen already attached to it. I had to buy it. Its organizational potential was simply endless.)

But my biggest weakness is anything that will help me organize my time. I recently bought a planner from an online company that allowed me to download my favorite photo for the cover. It seemed an answer to my scatter-brained prayers. I mean, who wouldn’t want to be more organized if they had a planner with a picture of my adorable family on it? (The planner is indeed gorgeous, and my family is quite adorable. But I am no more organized.)

I was talking about this phenomenon with my friend Amy recently. “I work really hard, but I never actually get anything checked off of my To Do List,” I said.

“I know,” she said. “I’m the same way. But so much of the stuff I do isn’t on my To Do List. I mean, I already know I have to cook dinner, so why would I put it on my list?”

“Maybe you should,” her husband Paul called from the other room.

He came in and grinned at us. “Sorry, I couldn’t help overhearing your conversation,” he said. “But seriously, maybe you should put everything you do in a day on your To Do List.”

“Why?” Amy asked.

“There’s this guy I work with and he prints a To Do List off of his computer every morning when he gets to the office. The first item on his list?

Make the To Do List.” Paul chuckled.

“So every morning, he shows up at the coffee maker, feeling good because he’d

Make t s i L o D o T

Make Coffee

Mix up cheesy potatoes

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already checked something off of his List.”

“Yeah, making the List,” Amy said.

“Huge accomplishment!”

“But how many days do you have when you don’t get anything checked off your To Do List?” Paul said. “He always gets at least one thing done.”

It really was funny to think of a grown man doing such a thing, but still, I could see the value in it. I’m a big believer in momentum and checking something off of my List always motivated me to want to do more.

It was definitely worth considering.

A few weeks later, I woke up to the craziest schedule imaginable. My husband’s office had a Potluck Lunch, and I was expected to bring my famous cheesy potatoes. My youngest son’s preschool class was having their Christmas Party, which started immediately after the Potluck.

I still needed to wrap his teachers’ Christmas gifts, bake cookies and make Doily Angels – my contribution to the crafty part of the day. Plus, my daughters were both having friends spend the night that night and the house wasn’t exactly company clean. I was supposed to pick up the girls’ friends on the way home from Nathan’s party, so there would be no time to clean later.

I had so many balls to juggle that morning and I was so worried that I was going to drop one. I decided to give Paul’s co-worker’s slightly-neurotic method a try.

I pulled out some Post-It notes and a clipboard. (My school supply obsession isn’t all bad.) I wrote down everything I needed to do that morning, with one task on each Post-It note. I even included making coffee, showering, and bathing my youngest son. I do these things

Bathe Nathan

Wrap Teacher’s presents

y l i o D e k Ma els Ang

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Tidy bathrooms

every day, so I wasn’t likely to forget – especially the coffee - but I wanted to give the method an honest go.

And yes, I did make a Post-It note for the task of actually making the To Do List. And yes, it was quite satisfying to pull it off and throw it into the trash.

The momentum was in my favor.

I mixed up the cheesy potatoes and slid them into the oven to bake. Then I put Nathan into the bath tub. While he played in the water, I sat on the floor, wrapping presents and making Doily Angels. And in case you were counting, that was three To Do’s all at the same time. I ripped off the Post-It notes with a grin.

I called the girls into the kitchen and said, “Since your friends are coming over, I need one of you to tidy up the bathrooms and the other one to run the vacuum in the living room.” The girls assured me that their friends neither noticed nor cared about vacuum lines in the carpet or water rings in the toilets. I said, “Well, I do care about those things, and if you want to have your friends over, you’ll get busy.”

Check two more things off the List.

Vacuumom living ro

Shower

I still needed to shower myself and bake cookies – two things I was pretty sure could not be accomplished simultaneously.

I jumped in the shower and hurried through the familiar routine. I got dressed and ran downstairs to pull out the potatoes and put in the cookies. But then I realized what time it was.

We needed to leave the house in 20 minutes. The adorable snowmen cookies I’d planned to make just weren’t going to happen at this late stage.

I murmured a quick prayer that the kids’ hadn’t found my emergency stash of cookie dough. When I felt the package in the way, way back of the fridge, I breathed a sigh of relief.

I tossed them in the oven and pulled the last Post-It note from my clipboard. I was amazed at how much I’d accomplished in such a short time.

It took some delegating and some compromise, but I’d gotten it done.

And maybe those things, rather than Post-It notes and clipboards, were the real tricks to getting things done.

Bake cookies

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www.sasee.com 27

Paw-Paw Always Believed

by Linda O’Connell

T

There’s something very special about experiencing all of the “firsts” with your first grandchild, especially if she is as verbal and precocious as ours was. Four year old Ashley was madly in love with the first guy she ever “dated.” She showed him off to her girlfriends, and she bragged all evening about how much fun he was.

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Ashley’s only consistent male role model had been my husband, her step-grandpa, whom she adored and called Paw-Paw Bill.

The Dad’s Night invitation came home from preschool in her book bag. It stated: If Dad can’t come, your child should bring any other significant male.

Four year old Ashley didn’t hesitate a moment. “Paw-Paw Bill, would you be my date? My escort?”

“What on earth? Where did you hear such a word?” he asked with a chuckle.

“Paw-Paw, don’t you even watch videos? The prince was Cinderella’s escort; he took her to the ball where she lost her glass slipper. But I’m not going to wear glass slippers. Please, will you take me to Dad’s Night?”

“Of course, my princess,” he replied.

I dearly loved my second husband, but my love for him grew ten-fold when I saw my granddaughter plant her petite hand in his giant paw, and I watched him escort her to the car. Out of that entwined grasp evolved a powerful love.

Ashley proudly strode into her preschool classroom that evening beaming from ear to ear. Her six foot two inch, twohundred-forty pound Paw-Paw shadowed her like a gentle giant.

He knelt beside her and colored pictures, built block towers as high as Jack’s beanstalk, and held back tears when he read Ashley’s heartfelt essay about the most important man in her life. Her teacher had transcribed as Ashley dictated: “Paw-Paw is my best friend. He’s big as the refrigerator, and he can lift me all the way to the top of it. He lets me help him make ‘shawshage’ and scrambled eggs every Sunday. He’s so silly. He tickles me, and we play wrestlers and he’s a good dancer; he twirls me around and around. He gives the best hugs, and he makes me laugh all the time. I love him ten million, this much.” Her teacher drew a stick figure with arms outstretched to indicate Ashley’s endless love for her Paw-Paw. “He’s my bestest silly friend,” she told each of her classmates as she led him from center to center. Bill rolled play dough cookies with her and made the entire class laugh when he pretended to eat them. He rocked bald dolls dressed in frilly dresses the same way he rocked Ashley when she was a bald baby.

Paw-Paw Bill was there the day she was born, and he has been there for her ever since. When her mother and I lectured or scolded, he tried a consistent, calm approach to discipline. He never towered over her. He scrunched his body down to her level. With

his big jolly face close to her tiny cherubic face, and with his sincere hazel eyes gazing into her blue eyes, he talked to her in ways that she could grasp. He used metaphor, and she listened.

From the moment she was born he carried her facing forward.

She perched like a parrot high atop his left shoulder and mimicked words he taught her. Bill believed that she should be able to view the world around her with wide-eyed wonder. When she began toddling, he wrapped her little hand in his and reached out to catch her every time she stumbled. Although he had to eventually let go, he held her in a grandpa’s grasp no matter how big she grew, or how near or far she ever was from him. Through childhood, he bounced her on his belly, cuddled her in

the two most important things a person can give another. Through his own interactions with her, he taught her how a boy should treat her. He taught her to respect herself, and he taught her to expect respect.

During the difficult teen years, when all children spread their wings and sometimes fly off in the wrong direction, everyone stepped in to guide her. No one, not her mom, grandma or great-grandma, nor any teacher or preacher who ever spoke to her during those difficult teen years has had as great an influence on her as Paw-Paw Bill. Before a date or a dance or a party, he always said only three words to her that every young lady needs to hear. When the three generations of women in her life finished lecturing about the do’s and don’ts and curfews, Paw-Paw Bill would

“I trust you.” brawny arms and gently bear-hugged her. When she grew older, he wrapped his arm around her shoulder as they walked through the mall or down a winding wooded path. He taught her how to treat others and how others should treat her. He allowed her to experiment and learn from experience. He took her places her imagination led and he always followed, if not at her side, then a step behind.

Paw-Paw taught her many concepts and skills but the most important lessons he taught her as she grew up was that an apology and one’s word are

take the phone, or he would look her in the eye if she were in his presence, and he’d say, “I trust you.” That’s all. No lecture. No more words. She always lived up to his trust and beliefs in her ability to make the right decisions even when the wrong ones were so available.

It is with dignity and honor and many laugh lines along the way that Ashley reached adulthood and recently got married. Paw-Paw escorted her down the aisle. Our granddaughter is the young lady she is today because of the gentleman who believed in her…always! Sometimes Dad is another name for Paw-Paw. These days Ashley calls him Grandpa Bill, and she readily admits, he is still her favorite big kid.

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A Grandparent’s Love

by Janey Womeldorf

I will never have grandchildren. Am I missing out?

My brother is 52 and recently became a grandparent for the first time.

Last month, our extended family got together and to our delight, he surprised us all by bringing his new baby granddaughter along. It was the first time I had seen him in his new role of Grandpa, and I saw a side of him I never knew.

He had picked up his little princess from her parents that morning, tucked her safely into her car seat (which I suspect he’d happily keep permanently on his back seat), and then Grandpa and granddaughter drove three hours to our family gathering. I don’t know how many grandfathers would feel comfortable doing that, (or how many new mothers would let them!) but it is clear this relationship is special. When they are together, he swells with love and pride. He beams when she smiles, he laughs when she chuckles, and his face oozes contentment when she sleeps in his arms. She melted his heart and seeing them together melted mine.

Grandchildren do that to you.

That same week, I also visited a girlfriend who had just returned from visiting her first grandchild; the baby girl was just two weeks old. She said that when she held her granddaughter for the first time, the overwhelming surge of love and the immediate bond that rocketed through her was so powerful and instantaneous, even she was taken aback. As she talked, her face lit up, her eyes sparkled, and she could barely get the words out quickly enough. She was a proud, first-time grandparent, and she gushed with love and pride; it gave you goose-bumps.

My mum always wanted lots of grandchildren. We watched “The Waltons” every week growing up, and we all knew she yearned for what Grandma Walton had: Children and grandchildren running in and out the house, everybody gathering around the dinner table joking and laughing, and extended families living close enough that get-togethers were the norm not the exception.

Sadly, life, dreams and one’s own children’s plans don’t always follow the same yellow brick road. It’s a shame really because imagine how happy everybody would be if they did. As it was, in a well-balanced, valiant attempt to increase the odds of plentiful grandchildren, my Mum produced six children of her own – three boys, three girls. Sadly, none of us reproduced with quite the same gusto she did, and some of us never reproduced at all.

Maybe this was a good thing; space was tight. Our house growing up had thee bedrooms and one bathroom; consequently, you never took a bath without yelling first, “Does anyone need the toilet?” just in case. It took years to stop announcing my bathroom habits. All the bedrooms were upstairs.

Mum and Dad had one, my three brothers slept in another, and my two sisters and I slept in the third. Bunk beds were the norm until the older children

started leaving home – an event that was cause for celebration for us younger ones but miserable for Mum. We tried to console her.

“Mum, don’t think of it as losing a son but gaining a closet,” we urged.

Our words of comfort did little to ease her pain, and she slowly watched her nest grow smaller and quieter. It became apparent the only thing we would share with the iconic Walton family was a house with thin walls; at least, we’d always hear each other say “Goodnight.”

Many grandparents say that grandchildren bring more joy than the real thing because you can give them back. I never had children so I will never know but I imagine it’s like being an aunt – you get to spoil them and have fun but without the diapers and checkbook. You also try not to have favorites.

I asked a wise grandmother once about this and she confessed that when it came to her nine grandchildren, she had her favorites – all of them. When you see her with them, you know she’s sincere. They may all be different, but when they are talking with Grandma, she makes them feel like they are the only person in the room. A grandparent’s love has a different magic to it, and I chuckle at what special memories these grandchildren will recall about their grandparents in years to come.

My “Nan” ate Shredded Wheat cereal with hot milk every day for breakfast. She was the only person I knew who liked hot milk on her cereal – apart from me – and I cherished our “quirky” bond; it made me feel extra special. After she was done with the cereal, she would neatly dust off and fold the waxy, paper sleeve that it came in and when we came over to visit, she would pull out these sleeves, a huge box of crayons, and let us draw. She had no money for fancy toys but as grandkids, we neither knew nor cared. I remember sitting for hours drawing on that waxy paper.

My husband’s Grandma would let them have sliced apples and chocolate milk in the bathtub. Fifty years on, this bath-time memory still lights up his face. I should bring him some apples and milk next time he’s in the tub.

For it to be authentic though, he’d have to be sharing the bathtub with his brother. On second thoughts, they’re grown men now. Maybe not.

It touches me to think of all the experiences and memories my brother’s new princess is yet to enjoy with her Grandpa. I shall just have to live the experience vicariously through him. Maybe if she ever comes to visit me, I can create a special great-aunt memory instead. I’d save our cereal paper but the only problem is, I prefer oatmeal for breakfast and a round cardboard container might be challenging. Maybe I’ll just make bath time fun instead.

I hear chocolate milk and sliced apples make for magical memories.

Thank you Grandma.

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The 5th Annual Grand Strand

Forget-Me-Not Ball Benefiting the

April 12th, 2013 The Dunes Golf and Beach Club

A memorable night out for a great cause!

Join the Alzheimer’s Association as we party for a purpose! This one night formal Ball features dinner, dancing, live and silent auction and much more! Black tie optional. Reservations required. Reserve your tickets today!

Funds raised by this charity Ball help support the Alzheimer’s Association in our mission: to eliminate Alzheimer’s disease through the advancement of research; to provide and enhance care and support for all affected; and to reduce the risk of dementia through the promotion of brain health.

For details, reservations and questions, www.fmnball.org or 843-614-6608.

843-238-3622 www.homespuncrafters.com Follow us on

114-A Hwy. 17 N. Surfside Shopping Center Surfside Beach, SC 29575 Mon - Fri: 9 am to 6 pm Sat: 10 am to 5 pm

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

Antiques, Collectibles, Home Decor, Jewelry & much more!

843-249-2889

1470 Hwy. 17, Little River, SC • Beside G&M Home Furnishings Mon.-Sat. 10 am-5 pm

Don’t continue to let your waistline bloom.

Give us a call today.

Our items range from vintage to modern, funky to primitive and rustic to regency.

Let us customize, build or find that perfect piece to add a wow factor to your space.

Furniture Home Décor Coastal Apparel Jewelry Handmade Coastal Items

843-215-7262

www.poundsawayofmb.com • No appointment necessary

4691 Dick Pond Rd. | Unit C | Myrtle Beach, SC 29577

Tuesdays & Thursdays 4 pm-7:15 pm • Wednesdays 10 am-1 pm • One Saturday a month 10 am-1 pm (Call for Saturdays)

4491 Hwy. 17 Business Across from Lee’s Inlet Kitchen Murrells Inlet 843-651-5560 • Tweaked@sc.rr.com • Tuesday - Saturday 10 - 5

Gift Certificates

Birthday Parties

Clothing, accessories &

art to enhance your style

Private Parties

843-281-6402 409 Hwy. 17S, North Myrtle Beach

Pet Night

Learn to paint in a fun and friendly atmosphere.

In just two hours, you take home your own masterpiece!

(on the corner of Hwy. 17 & 5th Ave. South)

Girls Night Out

5900 N. Kings Hwy., Suite E, Myrtle Beach, SC 29577 • 843-213-0346 wineanddesignmyrtlebeach.com

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Selena Harrison Selena Harrison, owner of Island Shoes in Pawleys Island, does not garden. She laughed and told me, “I have a black thumb and can’t grow a thing! I do love flowers, though. I think my favorite are peonies, they have such a huge impact. I love tulips and poppies, too.” This busy business owner does care about the environment. “My latest ‘green’ practice has been to change all the light bulbs at home and the shop to the more eco-friendly compact florescent.”

Readily admitting that she is not organized, Selena hired someone to help her organize her life.

“I have done really well—I have labeled shelves for everything. And, all my clothes are now color coordinated—I love how this has simplified my life!”

The child of a Jewish father and Methodist mother, Selena had the best of both worlds growing up in Georgetown. “I went to Synagogue with my grandmother, but we celebrated Easter with my mother’s family. I always loved sunrise service and occasionally my father would go with us.” Some years, Selena’s family would have already moved over to the family’s beach house in Pawleys Island by Easter and, today, the family still gathers there to celebrate the holiday. “We have a wonderful magical time, with children, grandchildren and lots of good food!”

“Everything is new and exciting at Island Shoes,” began Selena, “with lots of gorgeous spring and summer inventory. Color is back this year, both brights and pastels; round-toed flats and pointed-toed flats, and platforms are huge. It’s all over the board this season. It’ll be interesting to see what people like!”

Island Shoes, Hammock Shops, Pawleys Island, 843-237-8512 www.islandshoesonline.com

Tilghman Smith Tilghman Smith, owner of Studio 77, could not choose her favorite flower. “I love so many types of flowers—snapdragons, peonies, sunflowers, orchids, Gerber daisies—I am not sure I could pick just one favorite!” When asked about her organizational techniques, Tilghman said, “I do consider myself organized, but sometimes it is an organized ‘mess!’ For example, my desk at work looks like an unorganized mess but if you ask me for a piece of paper, I can find it in a quick minute. I love to organize, but what usually happens is the smallest project turns into a bigger project—starting to organize one drawer will lead to complete kitchen organization and then move on to another room too!

Tilghman is looking forward to celebrating Easter with her family and prefers an intimate, elegant celebration. “Last year we had an Easter lunch on our back patio with champagne and a beautifully set table.”

Studio 77 has a lot going on this spring! “We are continuing to fine tune our personalized customer service by updating our ‘wish list’ registry and trying to listen as our customers make comments in the shop. That way, when friends or family come shopping we can suggest ideas based on what we have heard.”

Studio 77, Rainbow Harbor 5001 N. Kings Hwy., Myrtle Beach 843-497-5931 www.facebook.com/shopatstudio77

Max Goree Max Goree, owner of Pawleys Island Bakery, enjoys gardening because the results are beautiful! Right now, he’s growing rosemary, lavender and poppies. When asked his favorite flower, Max said he loves the Tea Olive shrub because of its wonderful smell. We are all more aware of the importance of protecting our environment these days and Max is no exception.

“I consider myself somewhat ‘green’ and always recycle. I think it’s important to give back to this wonderful community. We also regularly change our thermostats to reduce the use.”

As a restaurant owner, Max “spring cleans” all year long and is always very organized.

Cleaning is a daily ritual, at home and at the bakery. When asked his Easter plans, Max laughed.

“I am in food service and will be working on Easter.”

Pawleys Island Bakery is expanding their lunch and catering menus this spring. “We are adding to our menu but will still offer all of our customers’ breakfast and lunch favorites— pastries, including cinnamon rolls, croissants, scones, bagels, muffins, breads, cakes, cupcakes, cookies, bars and cake slices. We also serve delicious sandwiches on artisan breads, salads and soups, along with fresh coffee, tea, hot chocolate, bottled water, juices and other cold drinks are available. Come relax and enjoy our cozy seating area with a gallery of local photographs. Free Wi-Fi is available. Don’t forget to ask about our custom cakes, wedding cakes are our specialty!”

Pawleys Island Bakery, 10517 Ocean Hwy., Pawleys Island, 843-237-3100 www.pawleysislandbakery.com

BUSINESS Cindy Davenport

Cindy Davenport, owner of The Social Garden in Pawleys Island, has some wonderful gardening memories. “My favorite memories of my grandmother are working in her flower garden and learning about plants. She ‘talked’ to each one as they were planted telling them to grow strong and stay healthy. As they matured, I was thrilled to become the weed puller to help them continue their journey. We were able to supply the neighborhood with flowers including weddings, dinner parties and get out of the doghouse make-ups! Flowers are important in my life. As an Interior Designer, I specialized in resort properties. I was always aware that flowers, and especially paintings of flowers, made a room warmer and everyone loved them.”

Cindy went on to share some bittersweet news with us. “We’ve had the wonderful opportunity to have several retail shops over the years and have met the most wonderful people! Our shop has been a special treat for my husband Bill and me. We have been able to reach out to our community to help with many charities such as Miss Ruby’s Kids, Smith Family Clinic, St. Christopher’s Children, Pawleys Island Festival of Music and Art and now with Tara Hall for Boys. We will continue to help in any way we are needed. Sadly, we are closing our shop. We certainly want to thank our customers for their support. The closing sale will offer pricing with 50% discounts, excluding original art. Again, thanks to our many customers and wonderful friends.”

What is in the future for Cindy? “Traveling and spending time with our granddaughters, enjoying this wonderful community of Pawleys Island. I will still continue to create wreaths and will do personal shopping for those who are looking for décor for their home and garden.”

The Social Garden, 10707 Ocean Hwy., Pawleys Island, 843-712-1365 www.SoGaBuzz.com

SAT U R DAY, A P R I L 2 0 , 2 013 A N E L E GA N T C E L E B R AT I O N I N T H E GA R D E N S W I T H CO C K TA I L S , L I V E E N T E RTA I N M E N T, D I N N E R , DA N C I N G A N D S I L E N T AU C T I O N

W H I T E AT T I R E , F O R M A L O R CO C K TA I L AT T E N DA N C E I S L I M I T E D

Call for reservations or more information

843-235-6026 www.B RO O KG R E E N.org

Your purchases make a difference. All of your purchases help support Brookgreen Gardens, a 501 (c) (3) non-profit organization whose mission is to preserve and display American sculpture and regional plants, animals, and history.

Advertiser Index

Ash Hoffman. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 17 Brookgreen Gardens. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 36 Downtown Pawleys. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 2 Grand Strand Plastic Surgery. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 11 Barbara’s Fine Gifts. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 5 Bou’Tiki. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 27 Eleanor Pitts Fine Gifts & Jewelry. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 3 Gray Man Gallery . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 2 Bio-Identical Hormones. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 9 Butler Lighting . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 9 Elegantz . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 33 Homespun Crafters Mall. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 33 Bistro 217. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 2 Cabana Gauze. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 13 En Facé. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 9 Inlet Medical Associates. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 29 Bless Your Letter Art. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 11 CHD Interiors. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 7 Fabric Showcase. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 17 Island Shoes. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 17 Breathe. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 10 Classic Antiques & More. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 37 Grady’s Jewelers. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 7 The Kangaroo Pouch. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 13

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restaurant

Classic

732 Front Street • Georgetown

Antiques

Lunch: Tues.-Sat. 11:00am to 2:30pm Dinner: Tues.-Sat. 5:00pm to 9:00pm Juicy steaks and Fresh seafood Saturday night Prime Rib Special

& More

Antiques Home Furnishings Collectibles One-of-a-kind items

New Items Arriving Frequently!

13089 Ocean Hwy. at Litchfield Dr. traffic light Pawleys Island

843-314-9273

Join us Wednesday, March 13th

We are hosting dining for a cause to benefit Miss Ruby’s Kids.

A portion of all proceeds will be donated to Miss Ruby’s Kids, an early childhood education organization.

Reservations Recommended

Classicantiquesandmore@yahoo.com www.facebook.com/ClassicAntiquesMore Mon - Sat 10am - 5pm

(843) 546-2021

ricepaddyresaurant.com Free Wi-Fi Follow us on:

Lands End Restaurant. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 13 Palmetto Ace Home Center . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 15 Safe Kids Pee Dee/Coastal. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 19 Take 2 Resale. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 23 Little River Mini Mall. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 33 Palmetto Paint. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 25 Shades & Draperies . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 5 Taylor’s. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 3 Long Bay Symphony. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 39 The Pink Cabana. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 10 The Shops at Tweaked. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 33 Taz. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 19 The Market Common. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 3 Pounds Away. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 33 Simply Divine. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 2 Tiki Tan. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 27 McLeod Health . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 40 Revive Your Style. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 15 Simply Sophia. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 25 UltraSkin Wax Center. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 25 Millie’s . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 7 Rice Paddy Restaurant. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 37 The Social Garden. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 2 WEZV. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 39 Palm Shoe Collections. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 23 Rose Arbor Fabrics & Interiors. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 23 Studio 77. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 19 Wine and Design. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 33

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

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Souvenir, Swamp Fox Players, Strand Theater, Georgetown. For times and ticket info, call 843-527-2924 or visit www.swampfoxplayers.com.

Dixie Swim Club, Brunswick Little Theatre, Playhouse 211 on Hwy. 211 across from St. James, N.C. For more info, visit www.brunswicklittletheatre.com or call 910-278-6581.

66th Annual Prince George Plantation Tours, Georgetown County, 9:30 am-5 pm. $40 each day or $70 both days. Advance tickets by mail only, 843-545-8291 or www.pgwinyah.com.

Moveable Feast, Carolyn Brown discusses A Daring Life: A Biography of Eudora Welty, 11 am, Sea View Inn, $25. For more info, call 843-235-9600 or visit www.classatpawleys.com.

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Promenade Concert at First Presbyterian Church, Myrtle Beach, “Love Songs from Broadway and Opera,” 1 pm. For more info, call 843-448-4496 or visit www.myrtlebeachpresbyterianchurch.org.

25th Annual St. Patrick’s Day Parade and Festival, 9 am-4 pm, Main St., North Myrtle Beach. Parade starts at 9 am, 843-280-5570 or visit www.nmbevents.com.

6th Annual Taste of the Coast, 11 am-4 pm, Barefoot Landing. $1 entry, food and ride tickets $1 each. For more info, call 843-455-6768 or visit www.bflanding.com.

Myrtle Beach Doll & Bear Show, 9:30 am-3:30 pm, Sea Mist Resort Conference Center, Adults $6, 12 & under free. For more info, call 803-783-8043 or visit www.knightshows.com.

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The Scoop

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Coffee With the Authors, David Reavis discusses Upon These Steps, Brothers in N.C. 23rd Regiment, 10-11 am, Sunset River Marketplace, 10283 Beach Drive (NC 179), Calabash, N.C. For reservations or more info, call 910-575-5999 or visit www.sunsetrivermarketplace.com.

“Tea & Symphony” benefitting Long Bay Youth Orchestra, 1:30-4 pm, Art Museum of Myrtle Beach, $35 per person. For tickets or more info, call 843-448-8379.

Equinox Art & Music Fest, 10 am-5 pm, Historic Horry County Courthouse, Downtown Conway. For more info, call 843-248-3558 or visit createconway.com.

7th Annual Shag Festival, 7-11 pm, King Street, Georgetown. Tickets are $20 in advance and $25 at the door, live music by The Sensational Epics and food and drink will be available on site. For more info, call 843-546-0052 or visit www.shagfestival.com.

2012-2013

25th Anniversary Symphony Series

Thinking Forward.

Looking Back.

Sunday, March 10, 2013 at 4:00pm Myrtle Beach High School Arts & Music Center

Symphony Soiree

Romantic Blockbusters featuring Sebastian Bäverstam, cello

A

program of some of the best-loved masterworks from the Romantic period.

Rossini Saint-Saëns Brahms

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Saturday, March 9, 2013 6:00 to 8:00 pm Wine & Cheese Reception TICKETS $35

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William Tell Overture Cello Concerto No. 1 Symphony No. 1

WITH GUEST ARTIST SEBASTIAN BÄVERSTAM

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WOMEN

&

HEART ATTACKS

D ebra H am -J orDan , Heart Disease Survivor McLeod Patient

D r . r aJesH m alik , Pee Dee Cardiology McLeod Electrophysiologist

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It was trying to tell me something was wrong, but I wasn’t listening.”

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Women of any age or lifestyle are susceptible, and symptoms can be very different from those experienced by men.

Call 911 immediately if you have any of these signs.

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Scan the code to watch Debra tell her story.

2/12/13 11:13 AM