Sasee November 2012

November 2012 Priceless www.sasee.com

One of the very nicest things about life is the way we must regularly stop whatever it is we are doing and devote our attention to

eating.

– Luciano Pavarotti

’s

Circle of Love

Join Sasee, Rose Arbor Fabrics, Social Garden and Southern Living Showcase as we celebrate the season and brighten someone’s door for the holidays. For each wreath donated, a donation will be made by Sasee and Rose Arbor Fabrics towards a local Angel Tree, purchasing Christmas gifts for children in need. Make a child’s holiday season the best ever.

Sasee is seeking handmade, crafted wreaths to be donated. We will be distributing to skilled nursing facilities to hang on resident’s doors for the holidays.

The Social Garden will be offering hands on wreath design classes with 15% discount on purchased materials, ie. wreath frame, ribbons and decorative items! Classes will be held on each Tuesday and Saturday at $20.00 per person, so call 843-712-1365 or email, Cindy@SoGaBuzz.com to schedule your class. Limit of 4 per class, so sign up early! Please mention “Sasee Wreath Drive” for your discount when enrolling.

Be creative and design an imaginative, fun, or whimsical wreath that will brighten someone’s door for the holidays.The wreaths will be photographed and highlighted in the December issue of Sasee. Special awards will be given.

This holiday season help Sasee, Rose Arbor, The Social Garden & Southern Living Showcase bring smiles to the children and the aging of the Grand Strand area.

Criteria: Delivered to: Sasee • 3955 Highway 17 Bypass, Murrells Inlet • 843-626-8911 • Size: 12 - 15 inches, nothing larger will be accepted Rose Arbor • 6916 N. Kings Hwy., Myrtle Beach • 843-449-7673 • All artificial products must be used on wreath, no food, fruit The Social Garden • Next to Bistro 217 in Downtown Pawleys • 843-712-1365 or berries (unless artificial) Southern Living Showcase • 7464 Catena Lane, Myrtle Beach • Wreath itself must be of artificial product November 9 or 16 are drop off dates for this location

by Monday, November 12 at 5pm

The Verona

PAWLEYS

7464 Catena Lane,

F

Myrtle Beach, SC

August 31 - Septem

ber 23 | Novemb er 1 - Nove

10:00 am - 6 pm dai

ly; 1:00 pm - 6 pm Sunday $5 per person, tax deductible donati on*

mber 18

From the moment you walk in, you will recogn ize the style and beauty a style defined by detail. of the Verona; With the essence of a Tuscan estate, its open timeless, classic interio floor plan and r are the perfect integr ation of architecture and a design that has ear ned interior design; the distinction as a Sou thern Living Showcase Home.

Visit us on Facebo

ok to learn more about our produc and keep abrea ts and sponso

Dr. Raymond Holt

Dr. Jose Hernandez

Dr. Catherine Rozario

IT’S ALL ABOUT FAMILY. Treating youngest to eldest, McLeod Family Medicine Seacoast welcomes Dr. Hernandez.

Dr. Jose Hernandez was impressed some years back by the significant role a family physician played in the lives of his special-needs sister and his family. With a focus on pediatrics in his new position with McLeod Family Medicine Seacoast, Dr. Hernandez enjoys treating every member of the family. “Getting to talk with family members and becoming familiar with their family medical histories go a long way in keeping everybody healthy,” he says. He’s also especially proud to join the growing list of exceptional health care choices that is associated with McLeod Loris Seacoast. “Spending time with my family and becoming part of this wonderful community is very satisfying to me.”

Dr. Hernandez and McLeod Family Medicine Seacoast look forward to welcoming new patients of all ages to the practice.

McLeod Physician Associates McLeodPhysicians.org

49863-HernandezSasee 9x10.125.indd 1

McLeod FAMILY MedIcIne SeAcoASt 3980 Highway 9 East, Suite 100-A Little River, South Carolina 29566 843-390-8320 10/10/12 7:25:29 PM

featured articles

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November 2012 Volume 11, Issue 11

who’s who

Manhattan Beach Gift

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 Carrie Luger Slayback

Time to Play

by Melissa Face

Finger Magic

by Diane DeVaughn Stokes

Food Confessions

by Janey Womeldorf

My Family Table

by Marsha Tennant

Southern Snaps

by Connie Barnard

Invisible Love?

by Diane Stark

My Mom, the Recycler

by Carol Joseph

The Test of Time

by Rose Ann Sinay

The Non-Existent Right or Wrong of How to Travel Sasee’s New Travel Column by Margo Millure

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

Rocking Chair Renegade . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

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

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

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10 26 28 43 46

Sasee is published monthly and distributed free along the Grand Strand. For subscription info, see page 47. 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 © 2012. 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.

Mark Roberts

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FINE GIFTS

Christmas Open House November 9th & 10th 10am-6pm November 11th 1pm-5pm

20% off store wide Next to Rose Arbor Fabrics • 6914 N. Kings Hwy., Myrtle Beach

843-449-0448

Regular Hours: Mon - Fri 10-5:30 • Saturday 10-4

november

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.

letter from the editor The Sasee staff is a small group, and we are all always very busy. But, we do take time to get together and celebrate the holidays, and each other, every year.

Last December, we all brought a yummy treat and drove to a local nursing home for a special party with the residents and staff. Our Sasee Circle of Love wreaths, made and donated by many of you, were hung on the resident’s doors and everyone enjoyed lots of laughter and hugs. We went to share our blessings, but ended up being the ones who were blessed. This year, we will again collect wreaths and take them to elderly nursing home residents who may not have much in the way of holiday cheer. If you can help, please let us know.

Armchair travelers are in luck this month. The writer/editor/photographer for Travel Belles, an online women’s travel magazine, and also the former Sasee editor, will be writing an occasional column for us, beginning this month. Margo Millure’s superb writing will leave you feeling like you’ve actually traveled there with her. Please let us know what you think!

Happy Thanksgiving to you dear readers – your continued support is very much appreciated.

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.

Carol Joseph is a freelance writer who lives in Naples, Florida, with her husband and two children. Last year, she gave her mother post-it notes and pretty note pads for her birthday. She has yet to use them.

Margo Millure believes nothing comes close to getting out of town every now and then, as a means to fully appreciate and engage with the amazing world we live in. She is a writer/editor/photographer and publisher of the popular online travel magazine for women, www.TravelBelles. com. The Travel Belles will be offering small group trips to Italy and France starting with a trip to Champagne, France, in May 2013. She lives with her husband, two teenage daughters and labradoodle in Myrtle Beach, S.C. 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.

Carrie Luger Slayback is an award winning teacher and marathon runner. Her articles appear in the L.A. Times, PersimmonTree.org, Sasee and Coast magazines. She lives in Newport Beach, California, with her husband and two Chihuahuas, Stella and Blanche.

Shelling Peas, by Johnnie Griner Johnnie Griner, 44, is a Walterboro, South Carolina, native and currently lives in Early Branch, South Carolina. In his teens he acknowledged his love for drawing and painting and has been creating since that time. He supported himself in the landscape business, but his first love has always rested in the arts. He now focuses fulltime on painting, and his passion has only grown.

Griner first exhibited as a professional artist when he came to The Red Piano Too Art Gallery in St. Helena Island, South Carolina, in the summer of 2007 and went on to win second place in the “Emerging Artists Exhibition” at Penn Center during the 2007 Heritage Days Celebration. Art is Briner’s passion, and he has a strong sense of place, evident in his memory paintings of Lowcountry life. He hopes everyone will enjoy his pieces as much as he has enjoyed the journey in creating them.

To see more of Griner’s work locally, visit Gray Man Gallery in Pawleys Island, located in Downtown Pawleys, or call 843-237-2578. The artist’s website is www.jgrinerfolkart.com.

6 www.sasee.com

november

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 an attempt to downsize and spend time with their new grandson. A second Pirate Queen book is circling while porch sitting these days!

Janey Womeldorf is a freelance writer who drinks too much coffee. She scribbles away in Orlando, Florida.

For unique gifts, home accessories, florals & a large selection of

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Holiday Open House Sat. Nov. 10th, 10 - 6 Sun. Nov. 11th, 12 - 5

Your guy will love to open this Christmas morning!

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5200 Hwy. 17 Bypass South • Murrells Inlet Swamp Fox Peddlers Market • Next to T-Bones Steakhouse

5900 N. Kings Hwy., Suite D • Myrtle Beach, SC 29577 (843) 449- 1420 • Hours Mon - Fri 10 - 5 • Sat 10 - 4

november

www.sasee.com 7

We have the perfect holiday party dresses!

Children Mudpie Roxy • Quicksilver Bailey Boys Kissy Kissy Florence Eiseman Peaches & Cream Hatley

A

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Ladies Vanilia Jeans Judith March Britt Ryan Vfish • Mudpie Tracy Negoshian Gretchen Scott Hatley

Signature Shop

The Shops at Oak Lea • Pawleys Island 843-237-2631 Bring in this ad for 20% off one non sale item thru the end of November.

What a Funtime we had at the Sasee Meet Up sponsored by The Social Garden.

Thank you for helping us introduce them to the Pawleys Island community.

PAWLEYS

8 www.sasee.com

november

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Art Classes for all ages & Skills!

Big Buddha • Coast Apparel Fish Hippie • Corky’s • Mud Pie Southern Tide • Southern Point Painted & Reworked Furniture & Much More!

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Anniversary Celebration & Christmas Open House Nov. 10th 10 - 5pm.

Read It! Rita Siegal Levine, owner • 843.839.2727 www.artandsoulmyrtlebeach.com artandsoulmb@gmail.com

Rainbow Harbor 5001 N. Kings Hwy. Myrtle Beach

Lisa Says…Read The Sandcastle Girls,

by Chris Bohjalian

by Lisa Hamilton 10 www.sasee.com

2201-4 Hwy. 17 S., N. Myrtle Beach 843-272-8220 www.thebarefootcottagenmb.com

I liked Chris Bohjalian’s books, Midwives and The Double Bind and thoroughly enjoyed his latest, The Sandcastle Girls. Inspired by his grandparents’ background, this novel explores the suffering of the Armenian genocide of 1915 during the First World War and brings us to Bronxville, New York, in 2012. Bohjalian weaves this story from past to present, unfolding a family history of love, loss and secrets buried for a generation.

A wealthy Bostonian travels with his daughter, Elizabeth, to Syria, as members of an organization called Friends of Armenia, to deliver food and medical supplies to the refugees of the Armenian genocide. With a diploma from Mount Holyoke College and a crash course in nursing,

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Elizabeth begins a journey that will change her life. She meets a young Armenian engineer who is looking for his wife and daughter, and they begin a friendship that develops into a romance in spite of the times and the distances they will share. In the present time, Laura Petrosian is a novelist living in the suburbs of New York, who is called upon by an old college friend who thinks she sees photos of Laura’s family on display at a museum near Boston. As Laura begins her journey through the past into lives she knew so little about, her family’s history is uncovered with gruesome truths and riveting information.

The history lessons I remember in high school and college never touched on the destruction and devastation that occurred during the outset of World War I to the people of Armenia. Chris Bohjalian has written not only a heart breaking account of the horrors of these people, but a beautiful story that is extremely personal to him as well.

The Sandcastle Girls is a story of hope and survival, one that may make you cry, one that will definitely make you smile.

november

www.sasee.com 11

Make your WISH LIST for the Holidays!

• Holiday Parties • Birthday Parties • Pet Nights (Paint an image of your furry friend) • Baby Showers • Girls Night Out

Boutique & Artist Collective

Join us for our

Holiday Open House Saturday, November 10th 10 am- 6 pm Sunday, November 11th 1 pm-5 pm Gift Certificates Available

• Sunday Fundays • Birthday Parties Check out our online calendar for events & paintings 5900 N. Kings Hwy., Suite E, Myrtle Beach, SC 29577 • 843-213-0346 wineanddesignmyrtlebeach.com

Interiors ~ Jewelry ~ Art ~ Apparel 9674 Ocean Hwy., Pawleys Island

843.314.3320

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3100 Highway 17 Business (Next to Advance Auto Parts in Garden City) 843-947-0533 • www.shopwithcarolinagirl.com

12 www.sasee.com

Snap dragons, mums, dianthus and flowering cabbage available!

This Thanksgiving, make food fresh from the garden, straight to your table!

Visit for unique holiday gifts & fresh Christmas decor 3791 Old Kings Hwy. (Behind Food Lion), Murrells Inlet • 843-651-0689

november

Enter our doors this Holiday Season & enjoy a UNIQUE SHOPPING EXPERIENCE offering HOLIDAY GIFTS & HOME DECOR. Including jewelry, scarves & handbags

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Sun 12-4pm

www.sasee.com 13

Gift

M a n h at ta n B e ac h

by Carrie Luger Slayback

“I don’t want presents,” I told my family. After Thanksgiving dinner at our home we discussed holiday gift lists – mine marked, “DECLUTTER.” At sixty-eight, I enjoy having less to misplace.

The next day my daughter gave me a grand gift.

It all started with Rachel’s next comment around the Thanksgiving table. “I’m having neighbors over for a holiday night-cap,” she told us.

She’s a relaxed hostess. I am not.

“Are they going to be on your patio?” I asked.

“Hadn’t thought about it – but my apartment’s teeny so, yes, they’ll spill outside.”

I could hardly finish dinner for the urge to spring up, speed to her place and scour the patio. Her apartment is a true beach cottage. Translation: outside her door is a sandy weedy mess. She enjoys the hammock, outdoor fireplace, string of lights and ignores the grime.

Rachel lives in Manhattan Beach, California, a stunning city of steep streets terracing tall homes, each with its own view of a wide strand, boardwalk, bike trail and miles of blue Pacific.

As motivated as I was to tidy the patio, I dreaded parking on Manhattan’s steep inclines. Actually, parking anywhere in her beach town is a problem. Visitors circle, eyes glued to the curb-side, searching for any place to leave a car.

Still, I resolved to meet the challenge and found parking on level ground quite a distance away. Good trade-off. I’m a runner, thankful to walk blocks to her house rather than risk a panic attack parking at a 90 degree angle outside her door.

Rachel and her Rhodesian Ridgeback greeted me, and I got to work. Satisfaction! Pulling weeds from still-moist ground, sweeping, clipping

14 www.sasee.com

dead branches and setting things right feeds my need for order.

As I worked, an upstairs neighbor came to the gate, “Sunset’s at 4:45, come on.” Another reason to live in Manhattan Beach is this sunset ritual I’ve observed in past visits. Neighbors and dogs gather along the boardwalk to gaze at the disappearing rays.

“You bring your running clothes?” asked my daughter. I dropped the trowel, “YES!” I said, happy to move and shed Thanksgiving excess.

“It’s low tide. Let’s run along the water’s edge where it’s level,” she said.

We changed and charged toward the crimson sunset.

Imagine running on a soft sand surface, hearing a succession of gently lapping waves, breathing moisture-filled cool air and experiencing the darkening waterside hush.

We jogged along, picking up speed with the exhilaration of the moment. We passed other runners, photographers with long lenses focused on surfers in the sunset and one fisherman.

Filled with bliss, I ran in unison with my daughter through the mist, the soothing end of a day.

Approaching our three and a half mile “turnaround,” we saw the Hermosa Pier illuminated for the holidays. We sped toward the twinkling pier on a glass surface created by receding water on wet sand. We ran easily, heels sinking into the reflected sunset beneath us.

“I will remember this all my life,” I told Rachel, thanking her for the extravagant gift of moving through time immersed in shining scarlet beauty – and no clutter.

november

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november

www.sasee.com 15

Time to Play I

by Melissa Face

have been inundated with parental advice from the moment I first announced my pregnancy. Friends and co-workers offered me tips about diet, daycare, and health insurance long before my precious bundle made his entrance into the world. The most popular piece of advice came at me from nearly every direction.

“Sleep while you can,” people repeated, as though women in their third trimesters of pregnancy really sleep soundly. But months later, I knew exactly what they meant.

16 www.sasee.com

When I returned to work from maternity leave, co-workers kindly asked me how I was adjusting to motherhood. “I just feel like I can’t get anything done like I used to,” I told them. “My house is a disaster; the bills are piling up, and I haven’t had a moment to myself since Evan was born.”

“Welcome to motherhood!” they laughed. “You will never get things done like you used to. That’s just the way it is.”

Feeling less than comforted by the conversation, I started to head back to my work area. I felt someone grab my arm, and I turned around.

Another teacher named Vicki told me to follow her.

“I know you probably get plenty of advice,” Vicki began. “But I just want to tell you one thing that I wish someone had told me.”

“Go ahead,” I encouraged. “I’m definitely open to suggestions.”

“Let the dishes pile up,” she said. “Let the laundry accumulate. Do less housework than you ever have before, even though there is more to do than ever before.”

“What?” I asked, flabbergasted. I thought she was going to give me some sort of magic formula for getting everything done.

“I’m serious,” she continued. “Let go of the housework and spend time with your baby. I spent too much time worrying about laundry and dishes. Those things just don’t matter.”

As summer break approached, I became more excited about spending ten weeks with my toddler. I was looking forward to day trips, lunches, afternoon naps and mornings at the neighborhood pool. I wanted to sit on the floor and play with trucks, tractors and trains. I wanted to watch Clifford, The Cat in the Hat and Curious George. I knew it was going to be a great summer.

I thought about Vicki’s advice from earlier in the spring and decided to shrug off my domestic duties, at least temporarily. When I put Evan down for his nap in the Pac n Play one afternoon, I thought about the dishes, the laundry and the dirty floors. I could easily get those things taken care of while Evan napped. But I decided not to. Instead, I climbed in my bed next to Evan’s Pac N Play. Today, we were both going to take a nap.

“Hi, Mama!” Evan squealed. He turned to watch me lie down and adjust my pillow. “Play?” he asked, hopefully.

“No buddy,” I told him. “It’s naptime. Go night night.”

For a few minutes, he turned and squirmed, attempting to make himself comfortable. After a while, he seemed to forget I was in the room. Then, he twirled his blanket around his hand and his voice became softer and softer.

He repeated, “tractor, truck, big truck, yay! tractor, truck, big truck, yay!”

I was thrilled to be in that moment and hear his sleepy baby monologue. And at the same time, I had to hide my face in the pillow in order to keep from laughing.

Eventually, Evan fell asleep, and I did also. We both woke up a couple of hours later, happy and hungry. We had snacks and played and watched Barney videos until my husband came home from work.

That night, once we put the baby to bed, I picked up the toys and books that littered the floor. My husband and I cleaned up the kitchen and discussed our day. I told him about naptime with Evan. And while a small part of me wished that I had taken better care of the house that day, a much larger part realized that I had done exactly what I was supposed to do.

I was fortunate to receive a really great piece of advice several months ago, and I have thought about it every day since. Right now, there is a blanket of dust covering my entertainment center, and there are tiny fingerprints on my sliding glass window. I need to clean the house, but it will have to wait.

Evan is pulling the trucks out of his toy basket, and I am taking time to play.

november

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409 Hwy. 17S, North Myrtle Beach

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

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Finger

Magic

by Diane DeVaughn Stokes

Thanksgiving always conjures up wonderful warm memories of years gone by; living with my mom, grandmother, grandfather, aunt and cousin, all in a two-bedroom apartment. Our home was tight and cozy, but filled with love.

Nana loved to cook, and I got my love of the kitchen and all yummy things from her. I can still see the pea-like beads of dough squishing through her wrinkled hands as she kneaded the piecrust for the apple pies that would make Paula Deen seem like a novice.

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But when I think about Nana and her incredible cooking skills, the one thing that stands out, was the use of her pointy finger. She was a whiz without all the multiple tools we have clogging up our kitchen drawers today. I actually laughed out loud last month as I wandered through the kitchen stores at the Tanger Outlets thinking about all the things Nana did with that amazing second finger of her right hand and one single large spoon.

For example, take a bowl filled with cake batter. Nana could wipe that sucker clean with a few finger swipes and never waste a drop, even though occasionally she left just enough in there so that I could lick the bowl. She used that same finger to wipe out an egg shell after cracking it open and spilling the contents into a frying pan. Keep in mind she was a child of the depression era and never wasted a thing.

Another finger skill that Nana perfected was the art of indenting the pie crust edges so each and every one looked identical to the one next to it. One single finger press after another, she would encircle that pie with precision.

But my favorite finger memory of Nana’s kitchen capers was her heavenly gingerbread. I recall how she tediously whipped the gingerbread cake batter into folds, claiming that she was putting air into the mixture to make the cake lighter in texture. After it was baked to a chocolate brown with an aroma of brown sugar and molasses that I can almost taste as I write this article, she let it sit for an hour before the magic happened.

Nana would take that amazing finger and poke into the cake like the Pillsbury Dough Boy gets poked in his belly, being sure to make each poke the same size, spaced the same distance apart, making it look like an unused peg board. Then she would pour her buttery, lightly-flavored lemon sauce made from confectioner’s sugar over the top of the gingerbread and into the fingered holes. It was breathtaking to watch, not only for a child of five, like I was the first time I remember her making it, but for anyone who happened to be lucky enough to see this culinary genius at work.

Recently, on the food channel I saw one of the hosts making gingerbread, and I watched eagerly to see what she would do when it came time to make the topping. You guessed it…this chef did not use her finger, but the rounded end of her wooden spoon.

Yes, Nana was an artist in the kitchen with every meal, not just desserts, and she knew it. I guess as the oldest of eleven siblings she honed her skills early, helping her mother prepare meals for the family on a two burner, wood-burning stove, in the little community of Browntown, Pennsylvania, outside of Wilkes Barre. It was there that Nana learned how to “stretch a dollar,” as she liked to say. Thank goodness for that, as we were two single moms, two kids and grandparents living under one roof with very little money. But I never knew that then. I wanted for nothing. I was surrounded by love and never went to bed hungry.

Thanksgiving was the most glorious meal with a spread of delicacies that must have cost my grandparents a fortune. That buttered roasted, twentypound turkey was picture-perfect every year and could have been featured on the cover of Southern Living. Nana knew just how to slice it up, something I have yet to master. Perhaps it was from all the chickens she had to catch and cook for her family growing up. Yet, it was always her desserts that I relished the most.

I find that when I am in my kitchen, I feel closest to Nana, mimicking her every move and honing my own finger fun. I still have not mastered her homemade piecrust, but I’ve got that gingerbread down to a science.

Whether it’s cooking for the holidays or just preparing lunch any day of the week, my finger is busy cleaning every bowl, pot or dish, not wasting a single dollop, in Nana’s beautiful, treasured memory.

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Food

Confessions

by Janey Womeldorf

Is it that I love to cook? Or love to eat? Sometimes, I wake up thinking about dinner. That used to shame me but now I embrace the fact that food and eating is such a powerful and magical force in life. It is not just about swooning taste buds; it is more precious than that. Whether talking about it, cooking it or sharing it with those you love, nothing unites families, forges memories, and in some cases, helps you get a job.

My husband’s interview for the managerial position was progressing well when the questions became more probing.

“What are your greatest strengths?” inquired the interviewer.

My husband eloquently gushed terms like strong leader, effective time manager, and dependable, impressing on the interviewer that he could without question, handle any challenge.

“Okay, so now tell me your greatest weakness,” continued the interviewer.

My husband stopped for a second, pondered the revealing question, and then replied confidently and honestly, “Chocolate chip cookies.”

Momentary surprise gave way to a burst of laughter prompting the interviewer to reveal that he too shared that weakness. With two chocolate chip cookie confessions exposed, the tension melted, the mood lifted and thirty minutes later, he offered my husband the job.

Of course, I daresay my beloved’s experience and qualifica-

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tions may have had something to do with it but even still, it just proves the magical power of food.

Grocery stores know this. That’s why they infuse their entranceways with the aroma of cinnamon. It reportedly makes people hungry so they buy more. This confuses me because I remember reading in a USA Today article years ago that researchers discovered men are turned on by the aroma of cinnamon rolls. So, the smell of cinnamon makes women shop and men want sex. (Of course, some might argue, what doesn’t?) I’d rather food shop; I love to cook, and I love to eat, so satisfaction is guaranteed; besides, cooking calms me. My kitchen is my oasis, and it’s where I feel most at home. When I need to discuss something with my husband, I invite him to step into my “office.” Of course, he knows to sit at the bar on the living-room side of the kitchen. It’s not that I’m territorial, (“Oh yes she is,” my husband hollers); it’s my territory, my sandbox, my kitchen.

When people are over for dinner and offer to help, rarely do I let them; I’m too anal. I asked my husband to cut tomatoes once. “Bite size,” I instructed. His mouth must be huge because when I looked at his oversized, red chunks, I cringed and asked him to re-cut them. Insulted and unappreciated, he never offered to help me cook again. Secretly, I was relieved; it

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proved to be one more notch of success on the learning curve called marriage.

Looking back, it’s amazing how many other changes have evolved in 25 years of eating together. Now that we are older, the most significant is how much more appealing eating in versus eating out has become. I could lie and say it’s due to my love of cooking but the truth is, I know how much a pack of spaghetti costs. For a fraction of the menu price, I’ll create my own never-ending pasta bowl right here in my own never-charging kitchen. The other reason (or confession) is that cooking and eating, bra free, in slippers, with a glass of wine and no driving worries, beats any restaurant experience – apart from one.

I recently sat down to write my bucket list. Item number four states: Eat at the restaurant of a famous chef. My only problem is that paying for the experience is not on the bucket list. Nothing dampens an evening like a bill that stops the conversation dead as you both scramble to silently justify that you just dropped your monthly mortgage on a fancy-sounding, artfully-presented entrée that was so small you thought it was the appetizer. (Some friends of mine once celebrated their anniversary in the fanciest of gourmet – read small-portion – restaurants. They paid the bill, left, then pulled into McDonalds on the way home for a burger.)

If I ever got to eat at a celebrity restaurant, I’d have to be selective though. I’d love to eat at Emeril’s in New Orleans but I’d want him to appear from around the corner and shout “Bam;” otherwise it wouldn’t feel truly authentic. If she was still alive, I’d love to eat Julia Child’s famous Beef Bourguignon and have her wish me, “Bon Appetit” in that musical way that only she can. (Maybe Meryl Streep could stand in for her? I love that Julie and Julia movie!) I’d consider Rachel Ray, but do I really want a meal that she whipped up in thirty minutes? Come to

think of it, I also wouldn’t want any meal that was semi-homemade, under ten dollars, cooked on a grill, in a sandwich, out of a truck, loaded with butter, from a diner or dive or cooked by a ridiculously-beautiful Italian hottie. And I definitely would not want one of the creations conjured up on those stressful reality shows – there’s too much dripping sweat for my liking. I wonder if Ina Garten has her own restaurant? Of course, I’d rather go to her house, she epitomizes welcoming; plus, her husband seems adorable.

What about Mario Batali’s Italian restaurant? Hmmm – even if it is a bucket-list item, how delicious would forty-dollar spaghetti really taste? I’m not sure I could ever truly enjoy something that appeases my taste buds but not my conscience.

Note to self: Delete celebrity restaurant from bucket list – too risky. Maybe instead, I’ll just spend a romantic evening with my husband; it would be so much less complicated. I already know what I would wear for guaranteed comfort, what I would never-ending cook for guaranteed fullness, and for the grand finale, what dessert I would bake my husband for guaranteed satisfaction: Chocolate chip cookies.

Who needs cinnamon rolls?

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My Family Table

by Marsha Tennant

When I walk into my kitchen today, I am not alone. Whether we know it or not, none of us is. We bring fathers and mothers and kitchen tables, and every meal we have ever eaten. Food is never just food. It’s also a way of getting at something else: who we are, who we have been, and who we want to be.

– Molly Wizenberg, A Homemade Life In my childhood, the table…usually the kitchen table…was the heart and soul of the family. It was the gathering place for everyone to come together and share a daily meal, a birthday or holiday. Each event was highlighted with a favorite dish. I loved fresh coconut cake for my birthday, pecan pie for Christmas and pineapple upside down cake for the Fourth of July. Baked beans (not canned) showed up at every picnic. Ham and congealed salad were the perennial stars at Easter. These signature recipes permeated my memories and senses as I grew up, moved away and returned from time to time.

I hold three family treasures close to my heart and in my aged recipe box. There is no price I would take for them. I look at them often, run my fingers across the lists of ingredients and smile at the stains and tattered edges. I see the three women who have meant the most to me. Each helped shape the woman I became. They added a necessary ingredient in my life at just the right moment. I owe them much. All were patient cooks who knew what was needed for perfect results. I have thought of them often as I have attempted their signature recipes. What I have come to realize is that it isn’t so important that I replicate the actual dish but that I understand why they cooked them over and over. Their recipes were tangible acts of love for the family.

Grandma’s chocolate pie was the ultimate gift to her family. We had it for birthdays and many Sunday dinners after church. We always had a dessert on Sunday, but for their only granddaughter the pie was what I prayed for on the way out of the church. The screen door slammed and a rowdy little girl with her nose up in the air hoped to get a whiff of Hershey’s cocoa. The fried chicken, mashed potatoes and fresh green beans were delicious, but I could hardly contain myself waiting for the pie. The meringue was piled high with perfect peaks that had been browned under the oven broiler. The warm chocolate custard slid down my throat like velvet. I stand in my air conditioned kitchen and still cannot get the meringue to peak at an amazing height like Grandma did. She created her magic in a kitchen with just a corner floor fan

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that hummed a soft hymn as it spread the warm scents across the room.

Mom’s chicken and dumplings never won a national contest, but they showed up at every church covered dish supper and family special occasion.

Most conversations with mom now always lead to the recipe. Several members of the family have attempted the recipe. We are a work in progress. Recently, with heart failure drawing closer, we brought her to my house. She stood, with the help of a walker. She held a vodka tonic in one hand and recited priceless tips for dumplings to my daughter and husband. “Just three ingredients,” she laughed. “So simple.” Age may have robbed her of her day-to-day memory, but she was sharp as a tack recalling the first time she watched her grandmother roll the dough or the secrets that my dad’s mother (Grandma) shared about how to make the chicken broth richer. I hope it is in my cooking DNA. A Waterford bowl sits on my dining room table. It is Nana’s potato salad bowl. Like most family heirlooms, this one has a story. Nana, my mother-in-law, was known for many recipes: banana pudding, cornbread dressing and her potent eggnog. I mastered the potato salad early in my marriage. The secret was the ratio of ingredients. I had to practice, but finally discovered just the right proportions of potatoes, eggs and onions. About twenty-five years ago our “couple” Christmas gift was a beautiful, scalloped-edge, engraved Waterford bowl. “For your potato salad,” she said. What a way to serve a simple dish. The meaning of this gesture did not escape me. She was giving me her stamp of approval. I always smile when I reach for the potato salad bowl.

I like to cook and have my own special creations like spaghetti sauce and Brunswick Stew. My family loves them, but the ones from Grandma, Mom and Nana are requested the most. When we sit down to eat we travel back in our memories to meals we remember. Those birthdays or holidays we shared bring comfort and joy to the moment. The food stirs the senses and once again we are sitting at the family table. And these fabulous women – who cooked – always join us for the occasion.

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FALLMARKET INTO FASHION COMMON AT THE

Monogrammed Scarf from Handpicked

Turkey outfit from Kangaroo Pouch

Gucci glasses from Distinctive Eyewear

MarketCommonMB.com located along Farrow Parkway between Highway 17 and Highway 17 By-Pass

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Southern Snaps Barbara Whitley: A Gracious Plenty

by Connie Barnard

Like a gracious hostess welcoming guests to her home, Barbara Whitley moves among the crowded tables of lunch hour diners at Crady’s Restaurant on Main Street in Conway. Her stylish good looks and friendly blue eyes reflect natural charm and sincere concern as she inquires, “How is everything? …So glad you are pleased with it.” From the handsome handcarved bar which also functions as a counter, Barbara’s daughter, Heather, troubleshoots seating logistics, deliveries, reservations and catering events, as well as the restaurant’s marketing and public relations. Meanwhile, back in Crady’s tiny kitchen, Barbara’s husband, Les, a retired CCU biology professor, multitasks behind the scenes as a jack-of-all-trades while alternating chefs prepare sumptuous main courses. It is a happy place to be on a beautiful Indian summer day, and the popular Crady’s is in full swing.

Established in 2001, Crady’s first opened as a coffee shop, its curious name a tribute to Barbara’s mother, Najgy Crady through whom she developed a lifelong joy of cooking. An experienced master baker, Barbara personally prepares all of the restaurant’s desserts and specialty cakes in small single recipe batches, using two brightly colored kitchen-size mixers. “I love to bake, and I love to share my baking with others,” Whitley says. “My fondest childhood memories are of helping my mother bake in our family’s large, drafty farmhouse kitchen in Kentucky.”

After preparing a delicious pie, Barbara’s mother would hold it high and quickly trim off the edges with a knife. As the pieces of pie dough fell away, Barbara would catch them. Then her mother would help her bake “dough babies” from the leftover pieces. At around six years of age, Barbara began experimenting with cooking on her own and, like most novice cooks, recalls burning her hand when she tried to fry an egg. This did not deter her, however, and by age ten she had mastered her father’s favorite dessert, an old fashioned coconut cake. “I will always remember the sense of joy and accomplishment it brought.

Memories of these simple, happy times had a great impact on my life.”

Whitley’s lifelong romance with cooking also played a role in winning the love of her life, her husband Les, whom she calls “Whit.” When she was in the tenth grade, the Crady family moved to the rural community of Saratoga, in Wilson County, North Carolina. On Barbara’s first day of school there, a handsome young man was assigned to be her student guide. “I thought he was the best-looking boy I had ever seen. He had a thick mane of black hair and a

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smile that stole my heart. However, I must have looked like a foreign creature to him in my bobbie socks and poodle skirt. These styles had not yet arrived in the far reaches of Eastern Carolina.” It may not have been love at first sight, but Barbara won him over with an invitation to her house for dinner. “I’ll never forget it. I prepared a dish called ‘oven barbecued chicken’ which was unlike anything he had ever eaten.” And it worked! The couple has been together ever since, recently celebrating 54 years of marriage. With a thoughtful smile, Whitley says, “We are still greatly in love with each other.”

After high school, Les and Barbara both attended Atlantic Christian College in Wilson, North Carolina. Les then completed a Masters degree in biology at NC State and taught at St. Andrews College before completing a second Masters and Ph.D. at UNC/ Chapel Hill. While living in Chapel Hill the Whitleys renewed their friendship with Ballou and Beverly Skinner of Georgetown, South Carolina, whom they had met when Les and Ballou were both on the faculty at St. Andrews. Skinner returned to South Carolina to take a faculty position in the physics department at Coastal Carolina College, and in 1973, he helped Whitley obtain a position there as well, one which he held until his retirement from CCU in 2002.

A scientist by profession, Les is also a talented and experienced artist, craftsman and musician whom Barbara calls a true Renaissance man. He designed and built their Conway home, as well as all the hand hewn furnishings at Crady’s, including its magnificent bar.

“If I can think it, he can do it,” Barbara says. Les also does much of the daily dirty work in the restaurant, jesting that his Ph.D. now stands for “Pot Handler and Dishwasher.”

Though cooking has always been one of her great joys, Barbara never had professional culinary training and spent much of her adult life working in other fields, including a twenty year career in real estate. Over time, however, she felt an inner call to combine her love of people with her love of good food and considered opening a tea room on a shady side street in Conway’s historic section. Barbara’s gifted son Adam, however, convinced her that Main Street was the right place for a restaurant. A short time later, an opportunity arose to lease the center section of three adjoining shops on Main. After extensive renovations, Barbara opened a very successful coffee/dessert shop there in 2001. As the properties on either side became available, Adam shared his vision for a

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more spacious venue: an eclectic, sophisticated bistro, to showcase his culinary skills and natural flair for design and cooking.

After months of tedious and talented work by the entire Whitley family, Crady’s on Main opened to immediate success. Longtime friend Patti Fink says, “When Barbara and Adam brought the restaurant to life about ten years ago, it brought together the unique creative skills and blending of food items from Adam and the baking excellence of Barbara.” Featured in a number of national and regional publications, Crady’s offers an impressive fresh daily lunch menu, Sunday brunch, private catering, and imaginative pre-theater dinners in conjunction with performances at Theatre of the Republic, located just across the street.

Barbara Whitley’s story is one filled with joy, vision and reward for hard work. It is also a story of personal courage and compassion, of putting one foot in front of the other when overwhelming grief makes it seem impossible to move forward. In August of 2009, their talented, creative, 38 year old son lost his life to a long and overwhelming struggle with despair. All who know the Whitleys recognize the deep strength they display on a daily basis.

Patti Fink says, “After Adam’s passing, Barbara, Les and Heather have all worked extremely hard to insure the creative spirit that Adam brought to Crady’s is still alive today. Barbara honors Adam every day, working hard to maintain not only her standard, but his, in the love she shows to details and to her patrons.”

Asked how she manages to keep moving forward, Barbara says, “There are days when I don’t think I can do it, but I do. This is our way to honor Adam’s memory and keep it alive. It is also our way to honor God. The Lord has given me a lot of stamina. I am a creative person who loves people and loves to make people happy.” Life, like food, is filled with the sweet, the savory and sometimes the bitter. Every day Barbara Whitley and her family make the conscious decision to honor Adam by savoring all that was good about his life.

On occasion, the hard work and talent pay off in surprising ways, such as the recent cupcake excitement. In August, Barbara’s now-famous fresh peach cupcakes with apple butter cream was selected as one of the top 30 cupcake recipes in the 2012 U.S. Foods’ Next Top Product Competition.

Barbara describes the cupcake recipe’s origins as serendipitous. While preparing for a bridal luncheon, she decided to draw from an abundant supply of fresh diced peaches.

Inadvertently, she added them out of the usual order in the preparation process. Concerned that the mixture had curdled, she at first debated throwing it away but decided to press forward. The result turned out to be amazingly moist cupcakes that she topped with a creamy apple butter frosting which Patti Fink describes as “the best of peach cobbler flavor with a bit of apple pie taste,

turning the ordinary into the extraordinary.”

Out of 250,000 entries, Whitley’s was the only recipe selected in South Carolina. It went on to win 4th place in a nationwide vote, an honor which Barbara laughingly refers to as her “Bronzette.” The acclaim is clearly a source of great pride for the restaurant, its patrons and the entire community.

Heather Whitley says of her talented, giving mother: “The recognition that Mom’s wonderful cupcake brought us has been truly amazing. We market our small gem of Crady’s on a shoestring budget, mostly relying on word of mouth from our patrons. Amazingly, all Mom had to do was make one extraordinary, very delicious cupcake!”

Barbara generously shared this simple but delicious holiday recipe, perfect for a special fall celebration.

Barbara Whitley’s Cranberry Mincemeat Pie

1 unbaked pie shell 1 pound whole berry cranberry sauce 1 1/2 cups mincemeat 1 cup finely chopped pecans 2 T. granulated sugar 2 T. butter

Mix cranberry sauce and mincemeat. Put in unbaked pie shell. Mix sugar with butter and pecans. Place over the cranberry-mincemeat mixture.

Bake at 425 degrees for about 35 minutes. Cool completely before slicing.

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gets candid

Meet Lisa Buie: Offering a Helping Hand

We’ve all heard the saying that good things come in small packages, and that is surely the case with Lisa Buie, Myrtle Beach resident and Counselor at Helping Hand of Myrtle Beach on Mr. Joe White Avenue. Lisa’s kind heart and tireless dedication to helping local residents in need have made her a much-loved figure known simply as “Miss Lisa” to those she serves. The day I visited with Lisa, this busy agency had seen 156 people with a variety of needs, and according to Lisa, this is about average. Helping Hand offers emergency assistance with rent, electricity, vouchers for bus tickets, prescription medications and much more, as well as running a food pantry. The agency is a non-profit supported by local churches, foundations, individuals and fundraisers.

Please tell us about your work.

I’ve been working here for 20 years; I started out as a volunteer when my youngest daughter was not quite a year old. I was a stay-at-home mom and found out about Helping Hand through my church, First Presbyterian in Myrtle Beach. One of the front desk volunteers couldn’t work anymore, and I filled in. Eventually, I became a board member, again through my church.

After my children were older, a full-time counselor position came open, and I was hired.

I have so much respect for this agency and how it’s run. People think we see mostly homeless people, but that’s not the case. About 80% of our clients are people who live paycheck to paycheck and fall through the cracks of the system. When you live like that, one little thing can throw you behind.

Our clients are hard working people, and that makes me feel good about what I do. We help them with groceries, power bills, etc. We’ve even helped people with automobile repairs, bus tickets, gas…the list goes on and on. We also refer people to other agencies when we can’t help them.

A lot of people move here thinking it will be easy to find work, and they don’t realize that most jobs are seasonal and lower paying. Even if they can find a job, housing is so expensive it’s difficult to make ends meet. We’ve seen twice as many people in the last seven or eight years. Last year was our busiest year ever, and this year is the same so far.

We do help homeless people as well. They can get mail here and apply for assistance. People think that we are a part of the Community Kitchen because we’re in the same building, but we are separate agencies. The Community Kitchen serves a hot breakfast and lunch every weekday to everyone, while Helping Hand provides a three day emergency supply of groceries to people in a short term crisis situation.

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How do you screen people?

We ask a lot of questions. And, our agency is a part of Charity Tracker, software used by many local charities. All clients must present some form of identification and give us the address where they are living or staying. There are several other agencies like ours in the county, and this helps us to make sure they are going to the correct agency for where they live. It also helps us identify people who are trying to abuse services by going to agency to agency to receive help. With such limited resources, people who do this could really be depriving someone who truly needs help. The screening process can be emotionally and physically draining. In a ten minute time period, I might go from getting a big hug from someone I was able to help, to getting screamed at because I wasn’t able to say what someone wanted to hear.

What do you need?

We always need donations of non-perishable food and, of course, monetary donations are very important. Local churches take turns having food drives for our pantry, but there is such a great need.

Tell us a little about yourself.

I am married with two grown daughters; my husband is a CPA. My oldest is a special education teacher, and my youngest is still in college at Clemson. I grew up in Oxford, North Carolina, near Raleigh, but I moved here the day I graduated from high school and lived here during the summers while I went to college at UNC Chapel Hill. My mother raised us alone after my dad died, and I know what it’s like to have little and work hard. I think that’s why I love my work so much.

After I graduated from college I wanted to be a sports reporter, but I think I was about 20 years too early. Back then, all the sportscasters were men.

I did work as a reporter for the Sun News covering high school football games before I was married.

My husband and I both love sports. I am an avid Tarheel fan and he loves Clemson, but really we love all sports. There was a Tarheel game on the day we got married, and I was ten minutes late walking down the aisle because the game went into overtime!

How do you deal with the stress?

I laugh a lot. I love my work and the people I work with. We have a good time together – our volunteers are amazing and so dedicated.

Contact Helping Hand of Myrtle Beach at 843-448-8451.

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Happy 1st Anniversay

We are Thankful for your support for this past year!

In honor of your support, ALL 52 VENDORS will be offering specials just for you!

Look for the Inlet Queens sign in each booth!

Eclectic offerings for your shopping pleasure...

Photography • Painted Furniture Hand Made Carved Bowls • Artwork Vintage Accessories • Jewelry Scented Candles • Crane Stationery and much more!

Celebrate the holidays with us!

The Cypress Room is open on Thanksgiving and Christmas Day, featuring a traditional holiday dinner.

Reservations required.

Now booking Holiday parties in the Cypress Room and Ballroom.

Breakfast and dinner served daily Breakfast 7:30 am-10:00 am Dinner 5:30 pm-8:30 pm (Reservations recommended)

Casual Oceanfront Dining!

“Neiman Marcus shopping at Thrift Store Prices” 6000 N. Ocean Blvd., Myrtle Beach, SC 29577 • 843-449-6406, xt. 0 islandvista.com

Hours: Monday-Saturday 10am-6pm, Sunday 1pm-5pm 4905 Highway 17 Bypass • Murrells Inlet(Next to Lee’s Farmers Market and Pet Galley) 843-947-0767 or 843-947-0196 • www.inletqueens.com

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Rocking Chair Renegades A Rocking Chair Renegade is a woman over 50 who: refuses to let age define her and is not afraid of showing the lines of life on her face… believes that the fountain of youth springs from her mind… is wise, funny, active, engaging, valuable, beautiful and definitely not finished!

Roz Wyndham Lives: Pawleys Island Family: My husband of 32 years, Roger, and daughters Allie, Sarah and Mattie.

Occupation: I am the cook and owner of Roz’s Rice Mill Café in the Hammock Shops of Pawleys Island.

Hometown: I was born in New Bern, North Carolina, and lived in the Washington D.C. area, Cleveland, Ohio, and Missoula, Montana, before moving to Pawleys Island when I was 19.

Age: I’m 57 years old with a 24 year old outlook on life!

Activities: boating, walking and the beach Loves: my family, cooking and traveling Laughs: I crack up watching one of our family dogs, Schooner, run laps around the house when you clap for him. Schooner is part poodle, part cocker spaniel.

Favorite Meal: anything with peanut butter—the staple of life Perfect Day: when the sun is shining and everyone around me is in a good mood Reads: I don’t read as much as I used to—right now I’m reading Merle’s Door, Lessons from a Free-Thinking Dog, by Ted Kerasote.

Spirit: The contentment I get from my customers coming back over and over again…I get my energy for life through what I do. I look forward, not back. I have had Roz’s Rice Mill Café for 15 wonderful years, but I think one day I’d like to begin again with a simpler, more laid back establishment. I just haven’t decided where! I consider myself an A.C.E. (Atlantic Coast Local) and would be happy from Bar Harbour to Key West.

Gets Excited: when I travel…anywhere Aging: It’s a natural part of life. I have no qualms about getting older. As we age, I feel we really do realize what’s important and learn not to sweat the small stuff.

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Invisible Love?

by Diane Stark

“Is my secret word a fork?” Jordan asked.

“Yes! You got it! You won!” Both of his sisters yelled.

My children were sitting at the kitchen table, playing a game. They had taken a stack of index cards and written a secret word on each one.

Without looking at the word on the card, they had to tape the card to their forehead. Then they took turns asking yes or no questions until they were able to guess the secret word on their card.

“OK, I know my word is an animal,” said Lea. “So does it fly?”

The other two nodded. I smiled and said, “It sounds like Lea is getting close.”

“I think I’ll figure it out in just a few more turns,” she said.

I nodded. “I’m sure you will, Honey.”

“Mommy, mine is really hard,” my youngest daughter Julia said. I nodded sympathetically. The poor girl didn’t stand a chance. Her siblings had to guess the words “fork” and “hawk.” The card on Julia’s forehead read “love.”

She’d already asked more than a dozen questions and each answer seemed to confuse her even more. I was just about to suggest that Julia choose a new card when she asked another question.

“Is it invisible?”

Lea and Jordan looked at one another, unsure of how to answer. They whispered for a moment and then deferred to me. “Mom, what do you think?

Is the word on Julia’s card invisible?”

I paused. Is love invisible? For the sake of the game, it obviously was.

“Well, yes, the word on Julia’s card is invisible,” I said. “We can’t see it in the same way we can see a concrete object like a fork or a bird.”

“That doesn’t make sense,” Julia said.

I tried to explain. “In the game, the word on your card is invisible.

But in real life, it shouldn’t be.”

Poor Julia shook her head. “I still don’t get it.”

I looked at Jordan and Lea. “Can I help her? She’s never going to guess her word if I don’t.”

They agreed, and I said, “Julia, when I want to show you your word, I bake chocolate chip cookies or make your favorite dinner.”

Julia thought for a minute. “Is my word hungry?”

I smiled. “No, but that was a good try. If I wanted to show you your word, I might also play a game with you or maybe even buy you a present.”

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november

“Ooh, is my word birthday?”

“Another good try. If you wanted to show me your word, you would give me a hug or a kiss.”

Julia’s eyes lit up. “Mommy, my word is love!”

I nodded and the kids clapped. Julia grinned and took a mock bow.

Then Lea guessed her word and all three of them chose new cards.

But later, when the kids were finished with the game, Julia came to me, looking troubled. “Mommy, why did you say that love is invisible?”

“Well, because it’s not an actual object that we can see.”

“But love isn’t invisible,” she said. “In fact, I don’t think invisible love is love at all.” She folded her arms and added, “Love should never be invisible.”

I smiled and stroked her hair. “You’re right, Honey. Love should never be invisible.”

Over the next few days, Julia’s words ran through my head over and over again. Love should never be invisible.

I thought about my day and how I spent my time. Had I shown my love that day or had it been invisible?

Because I want to do the important things well – and because I am slightly neurotic – I decided to go straight to the source. I gathered the kids together and said, “You guys know that I love you, right?”

The kids looked at me strangely and then nodded.

“Well, someone,” I said and grinned at Julia, “reminded me that love should always be visible, so I am looking for more ways to show you guys that I love you.” When no one said anything, I said, “I’m taking suggestions.” I held up a pen and a notebook to show them that I was serious.

“Bake more brownies with us!” One kid said.

“Have a water balloon fight!” Another said.

“Play Monopoly every single day!” A third called out.

Soon I had a list of more than a dozen suggestions. Some were completely doable, and others, like the Monopoly thing, would take some tweaking. The surprising thing was how many of their suggestions involved food.

Make popcorn and watch a movie. Help the kids make cookies. Take a picnic lunch to the park. Go out for ice cream cones.

Looking over the list, I worried that maybe food was overly important in our family. I didn’t want to create a “food equals love” mentality in my children.

While mixing cookie batter one afternoon, I voiced my concerns to the kids.

Once again, they looked at me like I was from Mars. “Yeah, a lot of our suggestions involve food,” Lea said, “but, Mom, all of them involve you spending time with us.”

Tears filled my eyes at her words. The popcorn and the brownies and the picnic lunches were fun, but they were just the icing on the cake. The most important ingredient was me.

It was a completely wonderful, but very humbling moment. Too many times, I’d put having a clean house ahead of playing with my kids. It was a common mistake, one countless older women had warned me about.

“Kids grow up so fast,” they said. “Enjoy them while they’re young.”

It was solid advice, but really difficult to follow. But somehow, hearing the same advice from my nine-year-old daughter made it easier.

Love should never be invisible.

I’m showing my kids I love them in a really visible way. Sometimes it involves cookies, sometimes popcorn and other times, a favorite dinner.

But I can’t forget that the most important ingredient is always my time and attention.

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My Mom, the Recycler

by Carol Joseph

My mother invented recycling.

Okay, maybe she didn’t actually invent recycling, but she was reusing newspapers, glass jars and coffee grounds long before it became the politically correct or environmentally conscious thing to do. Sure, she cared about the environment – as much as anyone cared back in the ’60s and ’70s. But it wasn’t the trees, the oceans and the planet she was trying to save: it was money.

With three kids to raise on one very middle-class income, my mom became frugal to a fault. She could stretch a dollar so far, it would practically snap and go flying across the room like a tightly pulled rubber band, which no doubt had been recycled from that day’s newspaper.

Nothing went to waste in our house.

Old tablecloths were cut into dishtowels. Old dishtowels were cut into rags. And old rags? They were sent to the garage where my dad could surely find some use for them.

Stain on my shirtsleeve? No problem. Mom would whip out her scissors and sewing machine and in no time at all I had a new sleeveless blouse that matched the shorts she just cut down from the long pants I outgrew.

Most people stopped collecting aluminum foil after World War II ended. Not my mother. Each night, after dinner, any foil that had been used was washed, dried and neatly folded so it could be used again and again until it literally fell apart. The same went for disposable plastic sandwich bags. As far as my mom was concerned, it was crazy to use them only once. Not when you could wash them, turn them inside out to dry, and use them a second or even third time.

In my house, even food was recycled. Leftover pork chops and stray pieces of chicken never saw the inside of our garbage disposal. Instead, they went into the spaghetti sauce, along with that extra piece of spare rib my brothers didn’t eat. When the white bread got stale, she threw it in the blender and made breadcrumbs.

My mom could and did recycle just about anything, but her specialty was paper products. Return envelopes from unwanted solicitors became score sheets for my parents’ card games. The backs of bank deposit slips became grocery lists and any 8 1/2 x 11 sheet of paper that wasn’t printed on both sides was systematically folded into thirds, cut into pieces and bound with a rubber band, thereby eliminating the need to ever buy notepads for anything, including letters to my teacher.

I never thought too much about my mom’s recycling habits. I just assumed everyone was like her – until I met my husband, Mr. Just-Throw-ItAll-Away.

When something was broken or outdated, my husband simply threw it away, without trying to repair or reuse it. He discarded towels before they were worn out and went through plastic sandwich bags like they were going out of style. No washing and reusing for this guy. Not when there was a trashcan nearby.

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Once the shock of his decadent lifestyle wore off, I tried to adapt his cavalier attitude toward discarding things. And I had some moderate success. I found it liberating to throw away rubber bands from broccoli bundles and twist ties from bread wrappers. And to discard old Cool Whip containers, no matter how perfect they were for holding leftovers. But more often than not, I found myself retrieving things from the trash that my husband had thrown away simply because he didn’t want them anymore. It once took me half a day to convince him that an old 8-track player was still in perfectly good condition.

For me, the compulsion to reuse things wasn’t as much a matter of economics as it was genetics, learned practicality and a soft heart. I didn’t necessarily want the things he had thrown away; I just couldn’t stand to see anything in remotely useable condition go to waste. Not when the Salvation Army Store was just around the corner. Or when we had a basement large enough to store things for some undetermined “future use.”

Eventually, with enough time and distance between us and a comfortable income level, I outgrew most of my mother’s recycling habits. Sure, I did all the usual sorting and recycling that was now commonplace and expected, but I no longer snuck my husband’s old socks out of the trash and turned them into dog toys. I bought cute magnetic note pads for my grocery lists and even let my kids doodle on colorful Post it Notes instead of the backs of my outdated, but beautifully printed resumes. I was completely cured. Or so I thought.

Last year, when my husband lost his job, I went back to my roots.

I stopped throwing good food away just because we didn’t feel like eating it and started creating recipes that utilized that leftover piece of chicken and the too-small-to-grate piece of cheese. Barely-used plastic freezer bags suddenly warranted a quick rinse and a second use. And those boxes of old business cards from the high-paying jobs my husband and I used to have? Turned out they were perfect for jotting down phone numbers, short messages and the few items I needed from the grocery store.

I don’t think I’ll ever reach the level of frugality – I mean recycling – that my mother achieved. After all, she practically invented it. But it’s reassuring to know that when times get tough, I can recycle with the best of them.

november

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www.sasee.com 35

The F Test of Time

or nearly thirty years we’d lived in the same house – a comfortable, gray cape with a long, white, spindled porch. A red door and mounded pots of colorful petunias, strategically placed, declared it ours. But it was more than just flowers and color that made it a home.

by Rose Ann Sinay

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We had already started a family when we built our house. Later, we added a den, a garage and a pool. We planted the tiny trees and shrubs that would, now, be very mature plantings. We made good friends that shared the same interests. They were the special ones that came to all milestone events, picnics, camping trips and dinners; the ones who, year after year, appeared in family pictures with changing, dated hairstyles and disappearing mustaches.

Our house had become our home with the addition of family and true friends…the building blocks of a happy life.

We started out together as young, working couples raising families.

Thrown together by nursery school tea parties and pee wee soccer practices, relationships were unconsciously nurtured by our children’s choice of friends and vague high school recollections of their parents (Hey, I remember you…).

Together, we coached our kids’ soccer and baseball teams and ate pizza and hot dogs for dinner at the local café after practice. We attended town meetings, fighting for the school budget and shorter bus routes. We led their Brownie and Cub Scout troops. We became great friends, making a difference in our community and a place in each other’s lives.

So, when we made the decision to move after our early retirement, it was with sadness that we were leaving them behind. At our last dinner together, I couldn’t help but wonder if we were making a mistake.

Tears were shed; promises were made; long, frequent visits were to follow. We refused to entertain the thought that time and distance could possibility erode our special connection.

Time passed and reality sat down between us. Visits on both sides were cancelled and rescheduled for that “let me check my calendar and get back to you” date. Surgeries, soaring flight prices, work schedules…life just got in the way. Calls dwindled to once every other month.

Meanwhile, new friendships were kindled. With more time at our disposal and a community full of people redefining themselves, it was easier than ever to cultivate interests. Relationships that took years to develop while we worked and raised families, now blossomed in months.

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I related to our new friends with comparisons of the old. “Don’t they remind you of Pat and John,” I would ask my husband. Or, Kate used to always say that would cross my mind when I heard one of her clichés repeated by an acquaintance. I missed my buddies.

When my son and his fiancée requested a guest list for their wedding, I was conflicted. Who did we invite? They had met our new friends. They had partied and golfed with them. And, for six years we have talked about our neighbors in our telephone conversations. Our kids thought our new pals were fabulous; but there was no history, no memories, no personal back-story.

On the other hand, it had been many years since we had seen our old friends, together, as a group. The gap, rendered by our departure, had long since healed over. Would they even want to make the long drive to the wedding, pay for a hotel and use up their precious leisure time from work? Were we still relevant?

Suddenly, it was crystal clear. The list was compiled; the invitations were addressed and mailed.

There was much to be happy for on that special day. Our son was marrying a fantastic woman; we were gaining a daughter, as well as her wonderful family. And, hopefully, we were going to see our old friends – friends that had shared in our son’s life in one way or another. Friends who knew he loved to catch bugs as a young boy, make trails in the woods behind our old house and who had eaten his birthday cakes in the shape of trains, robots and turtles. They were the surrogate family that had drawn pictures on our son’s cast when he broke his arm and cheered him on at soccer games.

They had replied to the invitation; they were all coming. I was both excited and nervous. Would it be awkward? Would we have anything to say to each other?

We waited at the open doors to greet our friends as they arrived at Elm Court Mansion. I spotted them at a distance, as they walked up the long driveway. I could hear Judi’s familiar giggle and felt an anxious flutter in my chest. Pat, my favorite “do gooder,” walked with a slight limp from her recent surgery. I saw Kate’s smiling face as she animatedly waved hello. Judith arrived with the camera around her neck that had captured so many important and unimportant moments in the past. Lenny, Reda, Chris and John sported hair streaked with more gray than I remembered and looked very distinguished in their suits and ties.

After the ceremony, we gathered around a table and poured over the picture albums that I had brought from home. It was so natural – easy – all the years just melted away. We laughed and reminisced about the good old days and reveled at how thin we looked in the photos.

We came across a picture of the group of us gathered around a bonfire. The kids were unidentifiable blurs as they ran past still images of adults holding soda cans (or was it beer?). Orange flames reflected in our eyes. The younger “us” wore dorky smiles; arms were draped over shoulders in comradely affection. It told the whole story. I was silly to have worried.

Our lives were forever interwoven; they were a part of us. Our friendship hadn’t disappeared; it was simply suspended in time and renewed with

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The Non-Existent Right or Wrong of How to Travel Sasee’s New Travel Column by Margo Millure

Given the slap your face kind of heat that rose in oil mirages off the blacktop, I remember thinking at the French/Spanish border that the passport control agent was wearing a short sleeved shirt that seemed rather starchy.

My husband, infant daughter and I would only be in this part of Southern France for a few days, but we wanted to be able to say that we’d been to Spain. Even at the time, 20 years ago, we knew that trading France, one country that has the landmass of Texas, for another, was pretty ridiculous. We justified it by saying that our 9 month old daughter who was strapped safely in her car seat behind us, was happiest when her favorite children’s music cassette was playing and our leased Renault was moving. But we knew the truth.

Our entire Espana aventura lasted under two hours. Around 15 minutes into it, a large black snake darted from the grass as if he had been lying in wait for us. So when all was said and done, we crossed the border back into

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France with our goofy, “We almost ran over a snake in Spain,” story and memories of the heat. We also could say we’d ventured into a new country. Looking at it now, I appreciate that the experience, as unsophisticated as it seemed, was a luxury.

Ask and people will tell you many reasons why they travel. They travel to get away or to find; they travel to learn something or to forget everything, They travel in pursuit of different landscapes, new foods, or better air. They travel for work and for play and to see things they’ve read about in books.

They travel to have something to talk about with their friends and check things off bucket lists.

In spite of these seemingly disparate reasons, I believe that what we are really all looking for when we travel is a feeling that is strong enough to turn into a memory. I find that one of the nicer effects of the

november

economic downturn, is that generally people have wizened to the fact that this “feeling” cannot be bought.

This past July when I stepped out of the cab in front of my hotel, I didn’t know that the street upon which I was standing would turn out to be my favorite thing in all of Ghent, Belgium. I didn’t even know the name of it.

That Jan Breydelstraat was my favorite thing wouldn’t occur to me until after I returned home.

I paid the cab driver and checked to be sure I had my suitcase, purse and camera bag. Disoriented still, I got my first look up and down the cobblestoned street. To my left I could see Gravensteen Castle and looking right, towards Ghent’s main canal, I could see that the street wasn’t very long. Flower pots were neatly lined up on the roof of the shop next to my hotel, and across the street a man on a ladder was painting the trim of a restaurant a thick and shiny black. Something familiar, cozy, yet just the slightest bit uncomfortable stirred in me. Like the beginning of the kind of dream you have at night, I wanted it to keep going.

When traveling the best experiences always occur when we are pushing ourselves at least slightly beyond what is comfortable. Sometimes it happens in places like the Louvre, but most often it happens somewhere else, like on a street you have just stepped onto in Ghent, or on a seemingly silly and impulsive border crossing into a new country. It has less to do with the place or moment itself I think, than the uncomfortableness and “familiar unfamiliarity” of being forced into it.

One of the temptations I must consciously resist when traveling by myself is to pay too much attention to a voice in my head that says, “don’t venture any further than right here.” Sometimes it calls for a literal border crossing, but often it’s a matter of a simple internal shift.

Each time I walked back to my hotel, I would allow Jan Breydelstraat to hold me there. Peering into her windows was the easy part. I then made my own kind of small, but significant internal shift. I found myself sipping coffee at one of her outdoor cafes, then later that day I sat on a bench in a small green space and people watched. I made a reservation in her shiniest, most welcoming restaurants for dinner. Bravely I entered an elegant store that sold only chandeliers. Then as a final small border crossing, instead of merely looking in the window of a boutique that looked way too chic for me, I went in and tried on a scarf and chatted with the storekeeper.

When we travel, even the least outwardly dare-devilish amongst us, I know for a fact, are crossing borders, both literal and not, all the time So contrary to what many self proclaimed gurus tell you, there is no right or wrong way to go about all this. Nor, do I believe there are “travelers” and then there are “tourists.” When it comes down to it we all crave this feeling of being jettisoned into the present moment, stopped abruptly, and gifted with the luxury of dancing around in it for a while. Whether you are the person on top of the tourist bus or visiting a small village in Peru, we are all more similar than we think.

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Janie & Tom Aldridge Janie Aldridge, owner of Wine and Design in Myrtle Beach, really doesn’t have a favorite food. “I like Southern food, and my husband, Tom, is a great cook. He likes to cook his special pasta sauces. I enjoy cooking, too, and love to prepare my mother’s fried chicken and potato salad, which has potatoes, onions, mustard and Dukes mayonnaise—it has to be Dukes!”

For Thanksgiving, the Aldridge family will cook all the traditional foods. “I make my mother’s sweet potatoes and her special cranberry sauce. I learned to cook from her.” The family will celebrate at home in North Myrtle Beach and after their feast will watch football and maybe play golf. “I am thankful for my husband,” Jan began. “And our faith in God. We have four grown sons and two granddaughters; Lynn is 4 and Olivia is 10.” Janie and Tom are also thankful for the opportunity to come out of retirement and do Wine and Design. “I love painting and art and Tom loves photography—we both have a passion for the arts. My husband is such a wonderful man— we enjoy doing most everything together.”

Wine and Design will host private holiday parties throughout the season. “It’s fun for people to come and make presents—everyone loves to get something handmade by the children in their life.

We also do birthday parties and will start after school programs soon after the first of the year. Our Art Buzz Kids program is so exciting; it gets children involved in all kinds of different art.” Wine and Design is also a fun place for a girls’ night out or corporate team building events. “Everyone laughs and enjoys the time together, plus they get to take home a piece of art they created!”

Wine and Design, 5900 N. Kings Hwy., Suite E, Myrtle Beach, 843-213-0346 wineanddesignmyrtlebeach.com

Myra Starnes Myra Starnes, President of Leisure Time Unlimited, Inc., loves ice cream. “I love all flavors.

Ice Cream is like a drink for me. It settles me down no matter how upset or mad I am!” Myra’s company brings us the Dickens Christmas Festival so this time of year she is really busy, but when she has time, Myra does love to cook. “I have a good many favorites. Spaghetti is probably my specialty, and I make delicious beef tips with peppers and onions that my grandmother got from her grandmother! I love spicy ethnic foods—when I was in high school we had to bring a list of all the spices in our cabinets at home. Most girls had only a few, but my list was 2 1/2 pages long.”

Myra will spend Thanksgiving with her friends and family. “You never know who’s going to be at my table—my son and I have lots of people who come to bless us. There will be people there from a lot of different backgrounds—we’ll have an interesting lunch! I am so thankful this year for my son, my adopted Vietnamese family and others I have adopted through the years.

And I’m thankful for my employees and my business friends. It takes a lot of people to do the Dickens Show.”

The Dickens Show helps many charities in our area. “All the things in the back are for charity,” Myra began. “No one gets paid, the charities get 100%. We also have new crafters this year, all sorts of jewelry, accessories, Christmas villages, dolls, dollhouses, imported items, handmade items…the list goes on and on…The Dickens Show is in its 31st year and has 350 vendors.

Come and enjoy the show!”

Leisure Time Unlimited, Inc., 708 Main Street, Myrtle Beach, 843-448-9483 www.leisuretimeunlimited.com

Max Goree Max Goree, owner of Pawleys Island Bakery, is a strict vegetarian, but for a treat, he loves the fried pickles at Quigley’s. “I still enjoy cooking what I used to eat though! Pork dishes are my favorite to prepare. For myself, I love to make pasta or rice with vegetables. I also enjoy Thai and Italian food; both are easily adapted to my diet.” Born in Missouri, Max began cooking professionally many years ago. “My first job was a burger cook—I did not like it! But, I have managed country clubs and worked around food for most of my career.”

For Thanksgiving, Max and his wife, Susan, will make…reservations! “I have three step-children and while they were growing up we cooked a traditional ‘turkey with all the trimmings’ dinner, but now that the youngest is 29, it’s easier to go out. Plus, Susan and I really need a break!”

This year, Max and Susan are especially thankful for their first granddaughter, Scarlett. “Professionally, I’m so thankful for the opportunity to live and work in Pawleys Island, a community that has adopted me and my business. I never want to leave this beautiful place. Susan and I leave work every day, go home and get our two little Maltese dogs, Cocoa and Chanel, and head to the beach—it’s so beautiful.”

Pawleys Island Bakery will have lots of delicious special cookies, bars, cakes, tarts and pies for your holiday celebrations and are already taking orders. “We will also be doing holiday parties for businesses and residences, just give us a call.” Max and his staff will be taking orders through Thanksgiving week—stop by and get your favorites!

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

BUSINESS Gary Anderson & Aleene Miller

Aleene Miller, co-manager of Lands End Restaurant in Georgetown, loves many different foods, but said, “My husband hunts duck, and we do a duck supper that all of us love. I roast the ducks with rosemary and onion, and then make gravy—it’s delicious!” Co-manager, Gary Anderson, is looking forward to being invited to one of the Miller’s duck dinners. Gary and Aleene have both been cooking for many years. “We’ve both been in and out of kitchens for most of our careers. Gary has worked for Chive Blossom and Big Tuna, and I had my own catering business.” Aleene went on to tell me, “I love almost all food. At the moment, Gary and I are both into seasonal dishes. He came up with a delicious recipe featuring spaghetti squash. We grill scallops with prosciutto and serve it over the spaghetti squash with a maple bourbon sauce.”

Lands End will be closed on Thanksgiving, giving these hard-working chefs a break. Aleene, her husband and two young sons will travel to Edisto to see her family and spend some time with her in-laws in Georgetown. Gary plans to travel to his hometown of Rock Hill and spend the day with family. “We both come from very traditional backgrounds,” Aleene said.

Both Gary and Aleene are very thankful for the overwhelming local support since they took over Lands End last February. “We have been very pleased with the response to our new menu and the daily specials have been a big hit. Lands End is such a beautiful place, and its outstanding view has made it a local’s favorite for many years.” Aleene and Gary will be doing a lot of catering this holiday season, both in-house and off premises. “We are focusing on quality, seasonal dishes—please stop by and enjoy a meal with us!”

Lands End Restaurant, 444 Marina Dr., Georgetown, 843-527-1376 www.landsendrestaurant.com

FRANKLIN G. BURROUGHS-SIMEON B. CHAPIN

ART MUSEUM 8th Annual Bag Ladies Luncheon

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

Presenting Sponsor

November 13, 2012 at the Marina Inn 11:00 am - 1:00 pm

From overland excursions on the Trekker to garden tours and new exhibits, there is always something new and exciting at Brookgreen.

Don’t miss this popular, annual luncheon featuring a handbag auction, gourmet lunch, strolling fashion show and a designer handbag drawing.

All proceeds benefit the Art Museum. To purchase a ticket, call the Art Museum at 843.238.2510. $35 for Museum members $40 for non-members

For more information call or visit our website

(800) 849-1931 www.brookgreen.org

Admission: $14 Adults, $12 Seniors, $7 Children 4-12 & Children under 3 are FREE!

Supporting Sponsors

Butterfly Exhibit Opens Spring 2012 Admission is Good for 7 Days!

On Highway 17 south of Myrtle Beach between Murrells Inlet and Pawleys Island.

3100 South Ocean Blvd., Myrtle Beach, SC 29577 www.MyrtleBeachArtMuseum.org

Advertiser Index

Accents by Carol . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 7 Breathe . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 12 Creative Decors . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 13 Four Seasons Interiors, Inc. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 19 Art & Soul . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 10 Brookgreen Gardens . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .44 CRH Interior Design . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 17 Frame Factory . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 37 Barbara’s Fine Gifts . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 5 Burroughs & Chapin Art Museum . . . . . . . . . . . . . 44 David E. Grabeman, D.D.S., P.A. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 9 Gay Dolphin . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 32 Barefoot Cottage . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 10 Cabana Gauze . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 29 Details by Three Sisters . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 15 Grady’s Jewelers . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 7 Beaver Junction . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 13 Carolina Opry . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 23 Douglas Diamond Jewelers . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 19 Grand Strand Homewatch Caregivers . . . . . . . . . 45 Belk . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 15 CHD Interiors . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 15 Eleanor Pitts Fine Gifts & Jewelry . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 5 Grand Strand Plastic Surgery . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 11 BlessYourLetterArt.com . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 9 Christopher’s Fine Jewelry . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 11 Elegantz . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 17 Homespun Crafters Mall . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 37 Bloomingails . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 13 Coastal Dance . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 19 En Facé . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 17 Inlet Queens . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 27

44 www.sasee.com

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Give yourself the gift of weight loss this holiday season!

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We specialize in providing as much or as little care needed by our clients to live independently in the comfort of their homes.

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Regina Young, Sharon Edwards, Marilynn Clark, Dr. Mike Kelley, Julie Oakes, Marty Vallar

We’ve Moved

www.HomewatchCareGivers.com/Myrtle-Beach

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)

Island Vista . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 27 Miss Master . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 37 Ripley’s Aquarium . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 27 Taz . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 9 The Joggling Board . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 8 Murrells Inlet Seafood . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 48 Rose Arbor Fabrics . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 33 Tiki Tan/Bou’Tiki . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 38 The Kangaroo Pouch . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 29 Nitty Gritty Nursery & Edible Garden . . . . . . . . . . 12 Sassyfras . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 7 Too Qt . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 38 Lands End Restaurant . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 29 Palm Shoes & Collections . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 35 Scents Unlimited . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 7 Victoria’s Ragpatch . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 39 LD Bags & Gifts . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 12 Palmetto Ace Home Center . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 32 Shades & Draperies . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 5 Wayne’s View Photography . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 39 Long Bay Symphony . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 47 Pawleys Island Bakery . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 33 Simply Sophia . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 39 WEZV . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 47 The Market Common . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 23 The Pink Cabana . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 41 Studio 77 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 33 William E. Altman, DDS . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 13 McLeod Health . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 3 Pounds Away of Myrtle Beach . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 45 Sunset River Marketplace . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 35 Wine and Design . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 12 Miller-Motte Myrtle Beach . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 41 Rice Paddy Restaurant . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 32 Take 2 Resale . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 35

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

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The Scoop

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november Southern Living Showcase Home Tours, home reopens dressed for the holidays, 7464 Catena Lane, Seville Grande Dunes, Myrtle Beach, Mon.-Sat. 10 am-6 pm, Sun. 1-6 pm. For more info, call 843-839-0537.

Art in the Park, 10 am-4 pm, 3-4 Chapin Park, 10-11 Valor Park, Market Common. For more info, call 843 446-7471 or visit www.artsyparksy.com.

Long Bay Symphony Series Concert, 4 pm, Myrtle Beach High School Music & Arts Center, For more info, call 448-8379 or visit www.longbaysymphony.com.

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31st Annual Dickens Christmas Show, Myrtle Beach Convention Center, Thurs.-Sat. 9 am-6 pm, Sun. noon-6 pm. For more info, visit www.dickenschristmasshow.com or call 800-261-5991.

An Evening at Sunnyside, benefitting Murrells Inlet 2020, 6-10 pm, Historic Sunnyside Plantation, hors d’oeuvres, wine tasting, cocktails, live entertainment and dancing, $100 per person. For more info, call 843-357-2007 or visit www.murrellsinletsc.com.

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Bag Ladies Luncheon to benefit the Art Museum of Myrtle Beach, 11am-1pm, members $35, non-members $40. For more info, call 843-238-2510 or visit www.myrtlebeachartmuseum.org.

Holiday Concert, Serendipity Singers, 3 pm, Belin UMC, Murrells Inlet, free. For more info, call 843-215-1171 or visit www.serendipitysingers.org.

Brookgreen Garden’s Holiday Exhibits, free with garden admissions. For more info, call 843-235-6000 or visit www.brookgreen.org.

Intracoastal Christmas Boat Regatta, 5 pm start at Little River south to Dock Holidays Marina.

For more info, call 843 249-8888 or visit www.christmasregatta.com.

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Christmas Cantata, 4 pm, Ocean Drive Presbyterian Church, Free, but ticket required, call 843-280-5584.

46 www.sasee.com

Long Bay Symphony Chamber Orchestra Concert, 1st- 7 pm, Trinity Episcopal Church, Myrtle Beach; 2nd- 4 pm, Our Lady Star of the Sea, North Myrtle Beach, admission $20. For more info, call 448-8379 or visit www.longbaysymphony.com.

november

Murrells Inlet Christmas Parade, 3 pm.

For more info, call 843-357-2007 or visit www.murrellsinletsc.com.

2012-2013

25th Anniversary Symphony Series Sunday, November 4, 2012 at 4:00pm

The Russian Legacy featuring Adam Neiman, piano

T

hree outstanding examples in the unique development of Russian music, from the colorful orchestral palette of Rimsky-Korsakov to the steely modernism of Prokofiev, the Soviet-period (enforced) clarity and optimism of Shostakovich, and the passionate, lush Neo-Romantic language of Rachmaninoff.

Thinking Forward.

Looking Back.

843.448.8379

FOR TICKETS CALL: TICKETS ALSO AVAILABLE ONLINE AT: www.LONGBAYSYMPHONY.com

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

December 2012

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

Silver and Gold

november

www.sasee.com 47

Authentic Murrells Inlet Catering At Its Finest!

From fine dining to casual to lowcountry cook outs, let us cater your holiday party while you enjoy your guests!

“Our Seafood was Swimming Yesterday”

4886 Hwy. 17 Business across from Nance’s Restaurant Murrells Inlet • 843-651-9309 • Murrellsinletseafood.net Visit our website murrellsinletseafood.net to see more pictures of events we’ve done! Referrals are available upon request For more information on Catering contact Rick Baumann at 843-651-9309 or 843-457-8126!