sasee october 2012

October 2012Priceless

www.sasee.com

Some stories dont have a clear beginning, middle and end. Life is about not knowing, having to change, taking the moment and making the best of it, without

knowing whats going to happen next.

Delicious ambiguity. Gilda Radner

S p e c i a l P u l l O u t B r i d a l G u i d e

sC i r c l e o f L o v e

Join Sasee, Rose Arbor Fabrics, Social Garden and Southern Living Showcase as we celebrate the season and brighten someones 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 childs 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 residents 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, [email protected] 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 someones 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.

Delivered to:Sasee 3955 Highway 17 Bypass, Murrells Inlet 843-626-8911

Rose Arbor 6916 N. Kings Hwy., Myrtle Beach 843-449-7673The Social Garden Next to Bistro 217 in Downtown Pawleys 843-712-1365

Southern Living Showcase 7464 Catena Lane, Myrtle BeachNovember 9 or 16 are drop off dates for this location

by Monday, November 12 at 5pm

Criteria:

Size: 12 - 15 inches, nothing larger will be accepted All artificial products must be used on wreath, no food, fruit

or berries (unless artificial) Wreath itself must be of artificial product

PAWLEYS

August 31 - September 23 | November 1 - November 18 10:00 am - 6 pm daily; 1:00 pm - 6 pm Sunday $5 per person, tax deductible donation*

The Verona

FF7464 Catena Lane, Myrtle Beach, SC

From the moment you walk in, you will recognize the style and beauty of the Verona; a style de ned by detail. With the essence of a Tuscan estate, its open oor plan and timeless, classic interior are the perfect integration of architecture and interior design; a design that has earned the distinction as a Southern Living Showcase Home.

FVisit us on Facebook to learn more about our products and sponsors and keep abreast of daily events. *Your $5 tour donation bene ts our non-pro t partners: Hope House of Myrtle Beach and Coastal Animal Rescue.Our Showcase Designers

Proud to be a SponsorFlowersonBroadway

McLeod Physician Associates is pleased to welcome Dr. Marie Perrucci LiVigni to McLeod Internal Medicine Seacoast. Board certified in Internal Medicine, Dr. LiVigni enjoys caring for patients ranging in age from 15 years old to the elderly. She offers complete GYN care for women, as well as comprehensive care for teens and adults. Dr. LiVigni prides herself in taking the time to listen to her patients and provide them with an extensive exam, so she can treat the whole person. My goal is to find problems early, treat them early and keep my patients out of the hospital, she says. Relocating from the northeast with her family, Dr. LiVigni is pleased to be a part of the community and excited to make her home here. And shes proud to join the growing list of exceptional health care choices that are associated with McLeod Loris Seacoast.

McLeod Internal Medicine Seacoast and Dr. LiVigni look forward to welcoming new patients to the practice. For an appointment, call 843-390-5217.

McLeodPhysicians.org 843-390-5217

McLeod InternaL MedIcIne SeacoaSt3980 Highway 9 East, Suite 100-B, Little River, South Carolina 29566

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4 www.sasee.com october

PO Box 1389Murrells Inlet, SC 29576

fax 843-626-6452 phone 843-626-8911www.sasee.com [email protected]

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 byStrand Media Group, Inc. and appearing within thispublication is strictly prohibited. Title Sasee isregistered with the U.S. Patent & Trademark Office.

whos whoPublisher

Delores BlountSales & Marketing Director

Susan Bryant

EditorLeslie Moore

Account ExecutivesAmanda Kennedy-Colie

Erica SchneiderCelia Wester

Art DirectorTaylor Nelson

Photography DirectorPatrick Sullivan

Graphic ArtistScott Konradt

AccountingRonald Pacetti

Administrative AssistantBarbara J. Leonard

Executive PublishersJim Creel

Bill HennecyTom Rogers

October 2012Volume 11, Issue 10featured articles

8101214243334364042

I n T h I S I S S U ERead It! . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .22Sasee Gets Candid . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .37Women & Men Who Mean Business . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .38Scoop on the Strand . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .46

Cute Little Houseby Melissa Face

The Danceby Pat Wahler

Going Soloby Connie Rosser Riddle

Whos the Fairest (Decorator) of Them All?by Ann Ipock

An Every Day Vacationby Diane Stark

Like Mother, Like Daughterby Monica A. Andermann

Southern Snapsby Leslie Moore

Haunted by Glue Gunsby Debra Larson

The Middle Seatby Janey Womeldorf

Room & Boredby Diane DeVaughn Stokes

17Special Pull Out Bridal Guide

october www.sasee.com 5

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letter from the editorFall in our community means football and festivals theres so much to do it is hard to choose! Everyone here has been preparing for the Pawleys Island Festival of Music & Art, to be held the first two weeks of October. I hope you will all attend one or more of the events; we have a terrific lineup this year. Most local festivals and events are held to benefit one or more worthy causes, and through the hard work of many dedicated and community-minded volunteers, these charities can continue to provide much needed services. A friend of mine, Zenobia Washington, is one of those tireless volunteers. She spent the summer working at the Georgetown Outreach Ministry overseeing a wide variety of programs offered to the Georgetown community. She is also working with the Bright Blue Sea Bookshelf program a cause near and dear to Sasees heart. They are in need of books, specifically chapter books for older children. Zenobia told me that while book donations are continuing to come in, most are for younger children. If you can donate new or gently used books, please give her a call at 340-0936.

I hope you enjoy our Journeys issue grab your copy and take some time to relax and read essays by your favorite writers. You might even want to start your holiday shopping list; our ads this month will give you some great ideas!


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

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 [email protected].

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.

Ann Ipock is an award-winning Southern humorist and speaker who writes for the Georgetown Times, Sasee and Columbia County Magazine. Ann lives in Wilmington, N.C., with her husband, Russell. Life is Short, I Wish I Was Taller (published

October, 2010) completes the Life is Short trilogy. Contact Ann through her website, www.annipock.com.

Debra Larson lives at Lake Tahoe and has been published in The Christian Science Monitor, Chicken Soup for the Soul, and the North Lake Tahoe Bonanza in a regular column.

Connie Rosser Riddle is a freelance writer and nurse who lives in Apex, North Carolina. She is working on a memoir about her journeys. See her blog at www.connierosserriddle.com.

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.

Pat Wahler is a freelance writer who resides in Missouri with her husband, dog, and cat. She is a grant writer by day and writer of essays and fiction by night. Her work has been published in dozens of local and national venues. A life-long animal lover, Pat ponders critters, writing, and lifes little mysteries at www.critteralley.blogspot.com.

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

cover artistLucy in the Sky with Diamonds, by Rachel Brown

Rachel Brown is a junior at Missouri State University, studying Art, Creative Writing and Spanish. While she is not sure what she wants to do with her life, she does know it will have something to do with art, her true passion.

For the most part, Rachels work is driven by her reading, traveling and spirituality. She has volunteered in Guatemala, worked on the Navajo Indian Reservation, meditated with the Ishaya Monks and roamed much of the continen-tal United States. Last semester she studied abroad in Malaga, Spain, which gave her the opportunity to dance Flamenco with gypsies, ride a camel in Morocco, camp in the Sahara desert and explore grottos in Portugal. In the last year, this young artist has wandered from the Parthenon to the Pantheon and through six-teen countries in-between.

Through it all, our planet has dazzled Rachel with her art, languages, cul-tures and most of all, her people, who have allowed the artist to view life with fresh eyes, a childlike perception and a mind open to new ways to combine and create.

To see more of Rachels work, visit her Etsy shop, www.etsy.com/shop/PaintMyWorldRainbow or e-mail her at [email protected].


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MMy husband, Craig, and I were ecstatic when we closed on our new Cape Cod home. It wasnt exactly new, just new to us. It was built in 1985, and we fell in love with its dark wood trim, screened-in porch and overall cozy appeal. Finally, after living in numerous houses and apartments, we were home.

Not too long after moving in, we had some friends over for drinks. This is just adorable, Melissa, my friend said. What a great starter home!

I smiled and thanked her for the compliment. We continued our eve-ning of chatting and laughing until it was time for them to leave.

Was that really a compliment? my husband asked me later that evening.

I knew exactly what he meant. My friend had referred to our house as a starter home. We had never thought of it as such. After all, it was not our first house.

Over the next several months, other people visited us and while most had very nice things to say, others commented on our cute little house in a manner that I felt was a bit condescending. At the time, it bothered me a bit.

Eventually, I came to the conclusion that most peoples comments were well intended, and they really did think our house was cute. And it is. It

has two upstairs bedrooms with cute little alcoves, a cute little half-bath, and a cute rear deck.

Craig and I have recently started to make the house a little more ours. We have done some painting, replaced our entry doors, and updated the exterior with new vinyl siding. It keeps looking better and better and with each renovation, I am becoming more attached to it.

We have been living in our Cape Cod for almost four years. Since we moved in, we have watched some of our friends upgrade to bigger spaces. Every now and then, my materialistic self is a bit jeal-ous of other peoples large floor plans, walk-in closets and double vanity master bathrooms. But that is a fleeting feeling of envy.

On a daily basis, I am quite happy with my small space. I love that I can clean my entire house in just a couple of hours. Our yard upkeep is also quite manageable which means my husband and I have more time for fun on the weekends. And the biggest advantage to our cute little house is that it comes with a modest mortgage payment. We love that our home is very affordable and allows us room in our budget for vacationing and going out to eat.

This year, Craig and I had our first child. We are already notic-ing the decrease in space around our house. We hope to one day have a second child. So, needless to say, it will probably get pretty cramped around here.

When Craig and I discuss our future plans, we consider moving to a larger house out in the country, buying a place at the beach or sim-ply staying right here in our Cape Cod forever. It may be crowded

while we have children, but at least we would never have to worry about downsizing when we are older.

Were still not sure if this starter house is our forever home or something in between. But we are sure that we love it

and for now, we are very happy here. As it turns out, the old clich is true. Good things really do come in small packages.

We are having a good time in our cute little house.


CuteLittleHouse

by Melissa Face


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Please let us know what song youd like to use for the mother-son dance at the reception.

The mother-son dance Id forgotten all about the mother of the grooms big moment. Though I wasnt in charge of anything else, it was now up to me to find a song that would sum up my relationship with my son. Which song should I choose? Immediately, I consulted with my oracle for all wisdom: the Internet. There had to be a million possibilities.

As it turns out, there were. I spent days listening to various options. One song sounded cheesy. Another would be over the top. Then I hit the jack-pot. I ran across several wedding dance videos posted online that made me gig-gle. A campy, funny dance; what better way to break the ice at the reception and make everyone feel good rather than sappy. I invited my son to take a look at the videos I found and enthused about how we could choreograph one heck of a good time for the guests.

His shudder reminded me of Lucy Ricardo tasting Vitameatavegimin.Absolutely not.Undaunted, I moved on to Plan B and warned him up front.If you wont do funny, then well have to do sentimental. He shrugged.Dont say I didnt warn you, dear.As I started my second search, I sniffled through a dozen possibilities.

Who knew so many songs were tear-jerkers? I chewed my nails and blew my nose until I finally found it: The perfect tune. It took half a box of tissues for me to watch the entire memory-filled description of a mothers pride on her

sons wedding day. I could only hope my sons nice new suit will be stain-proof, because Mamas going to blubber like a baby.

Dance has always been important in helping people express emotion. Its a way for us to connect with another human being whether in a time of sorrow, joy or celebration. My search for the perfect song got me to thinking about how much marriage resembles a dance.

A husband and wife may sway in perfect rhythm or step on each oth-ers toes. When someone stumbles, good dancers start over and try again to learn the steps because it takes a lot of work to perfect a sexy tango.

From time to time, a couple can move away from each other to dance in their own raw and unrehearsed way. Their movements may become so inde-pendently centered and unyielding that they forget the beauty of swaying together to the music. Too few remember that a true partnership flourishes with patience and practice. But for those who understand, a return to each others arms can help them learn again to find their own special routine.

As years go by, that couple is the one youll observe in a gentle waltz, steps formed through decades of experience. Even Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers couldnt be more irrevocably linked; forever sharing joy together on the dance floor. Who wouldnt want that in a relationship?

I know Ill need to wipe my eyes as my son and I swirl around the floor on his wedding day. And when he commits himself in marriage to his lovely bride, my hope is that they both remember never to settle for simply performing the steps.

I want them to smile and put their whole hearts into the dance.

WThe

by Pat Wahler

When your daughter gets married you are right there in the action choosing venues, going to bridal shows and helping to select the china pattern. But when youre mother of the groom, Ive discovered things are different.

I really dont mind being out of the decision making circle. By leaving planning details to younger and more nimble minds, theres no need to reach for any type of headache remedy. My job is simply to smile and nod in a reassuring way whenever speaking to the bride or groom. But just when I thought Id figured things out, I received an email.


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Going Soloby Connie Rosser Riddle

The first time was quite by accident.I had three days between two business trips; the first to a meeting out-

side of Phoenix, the second to a conference in San Francisco. Not enough time in between to be worth flying back to North Carolina.

Why dont you stay out there and travel? my coworker suggested.By myself? I responded.Sure. Itll do you good.Shed been there while I worked and underwent breast cancer treat-

ment over the previous eight months. The longest trip Id taken since my diag-nosis was the nineteen miles to my oncologists office. He had pronounced me well enough to fly, so why not take advantage of it?

When the Phoenix meeting ended, I rented a car and drove north to Sedona. Id never been to Arizona, and I was amazed at how the landscape changed so drastically, from Saguaro cactus to grasslands to red rocks. I realized that for the first time ever, I had no schedule, no work or family responsibilities; no place I had to be. I can do whatever I want, I thought as I drove into Sedona.

After a stop at the ranger station, I took my map and headed out to Oak Creek Canyon. The afternoon sun felt nice on my shoulders as I sat on a rock and enjoyed the breeze off the water. Without having to rush, I took the time to watch a soaring bird and an older couple hiking along the banks. This is nice, I thought and realized I could sit there the rest of the day if I liked. Later on, I drove around the country roads, following my instincts and turning down dirt roads that werent on the map, delighted to discover pastures with flowers and cows huddled under shade trees. I didnt have to consult with my husband or cater to the whims of my teenage boys; I was free to follow my own whims. I ended that day by sitting on the hood of my car, watching the theater of nightfall against the rocks and joining with a community of others in a collective ooh and ahh at the fantastic display of color and light.

I came back from that trip refreshed and renewed. Four years later, when my fiftieth birthday was approaching, my husband asked me, Do you want a party?

I thought briefly about all that would entail, the stereotypical Happy

Fiftieth gifts of AARP cards and Geritol, and I responded, No, I dont really want a party. I want a trip. By myself.

I knew he wasnt offended. He saw what Sedona did for me.I became excited about the trip, looking for a place to go that was in

driving distance from my home. When I shared my plans at work, a different job from when Id gone to Sedona, my coworker, fifteen years my senior, asked, What does your husband think about it? Will he let you go?

Hes fine with it. He knows Im not going to get away from him. Im going to get to myself.

I needed to be at the ocean, as water had always renewed me. I chose to go to Jekyll Island, Georgia. There I rediscovered the things I loved as a girl, like riding my bike on the trails through the marsh and by the beach, swim-ming at night in the hotel pool, sitting on a historic cottage porch and reading a book through a thundershower. Like Sedona, I found that without the requirements of traveling with others the conversations, coordinating activi-ties, taking care of everyones needs I was able to relax and just enjoy being with myself.

Every year since my fiftieth Ive taken a trip alone. Ive stayed in hos-tels in Marthas Vineyard and Cape Vincent, New York. Ive hiked a mountain in the San Juan Islands, gone on a trail ride in the Tetons and ridden my bike along a canal towpath in West Virginia. Ive met people who Ive felt were placed in my path, whether they helped me to learn valuable lessons or I was able to encourage them through difficult situations. These trips have become meaningful journeys, intentional pilgrimages that have renewed my spirit.

Now the women I know ask me, Where are you going this year? A young mother, worn down from caring for her toddler, told me, One day Im going to do that, her eyes dreamy. Other women, closer to my age say, I wish I could do that, to which I say, You can.

One friend offers to go with me, and I gently respond, But if anyone goes with me, it wont be the same.

And it wouldnt, because theres nothing like the freedom of Going Solo.


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I love my home. I love every home Ive ever lived in. Thats because I make it MY OWN. Im not a great decorator, but I know what appeals to me. Like a well-seasoned steak, I think we season our homes over time with spe-cial keepsakes from travels, celebrations and happy moments. I no longer go for large scale redecorating (been there, done that), but I do like to add or change-out accessories. For instance, I have bowls of seashells and coral from Cancun, a three-inch piece of driftwood in the shape of a cross from Pawleys Island, now framed in a shadow box; a small bongo from the Bahamas, next to the mandolin that my dad made.

Then theres that whimsical, beautifully painted four-inch tile with two fish, a crab and some algae that sits on a shelf. Betsy Boyle Harper, my art-ist friend from Pawleys Island, painted it for me. (Bless her heart, the poor thing; she tried to teach ME how to paint on tile. She wouldve had better luck teaching me to draw in the sand. I could NOT get the hang of it!)

Right now, Im pleased with every room in my house, except one. (Isnt there always just ONE?) Its my office/guest/play room the one I take the most chances on, keeping it artsy, eclectic and funky. I recently replaced a dresser with a large armoire, added a family heirloom a green-suede accent chair and a drop-leaf, shabby-chic table desk. The latter was a flea market find when hub-Russ and I first married thirty-two years ago.

The problem with this room lies in the daybed, no pun intended, and how to arrange the pillows. Two pillow shams, Lilly-like, with pink-and-green paisley, are identical to the quilted coverlet--so far, so good. Two huge magenta pillows match the Tommy Hilfiger bed skirt but the shapes arent compatible: square and rectangular uh-oh. To further complicate, I have two custom-sewn pillows: a long, bolster pillow in pink-and-green stripes and a square lime-green with the striped envelope top (matching my window treat-ments). The pillows themselves are fine but placing them on the daybed to coordinate is impossible.

In fact, its become a game/contest for me to see how overnight guests place the pillows on the bed when they leave. In other words, Whos the fairest (decorator) of them all? Trust me, no two designs are ever the same. Case in point: if you multiply 6 x 6, does that mean there are thirty-six

combinations? Well, hub-Russ would tell me, Ann, forget that theory! You cant do math! True statement: I once received a check from a book store that was one book short of the total payment, but how? Duh! I pulled up the invoice from my computer, and you guessed it, bad multiplication. Note to self: 9 x 4 does not equal thirty-two.

This decorating game began when our oldest daughter, Kelly/aka Martha Stewart, preppy-perfectionist, visited a while back. Shes a neat freak if ever there was one! She can make a flimsy, under-stuffed pillow stand up at attention. She can shake a rug so hard, fluffing up the fibers so high that you swear it looks brand new. She can clean out a refrigerator until its nearly empty. In fact, if she even suspects mold, goop or something sticky on an item which is pretty much the entire contents of my refrigerator shell throw it out: Without hesitation. When Kelly last visited, I was quite impressed with the way she styled the daybed. Shed been gone an hour when I observed this magazine cover-worthy ensemble. Too bad House Beautiful didnt photograph it. Heck, I wish Id photographed it because Ill never be able to duplicate it. Believe me, Ive tried.

The next house guest after Kelly was my nephew Huck. Now, hes a sharp dresser Cole Hahn shoes, Vineyard Vines shirts, etc. I expected something stellar. Instead, his placement of THE PILLOWS was, well, shall we say, simply there? Actually, it was more like, here, there and every-where. They were more or less thrown into a pile. (He did, however, make up the bed neatly.)

This morning, I waved goodbye to my oldest sister, Cathy, on the porch, while sliding one leg back into the house, anxious to check out the daybed. Keep in mind, I told her nothing of this little contest. Dang! She decorated just like me boring and predictable. Magenta pillows at each end, pillow shams in the middle, bolster pillow centered but, wait! OMG! There was one cute little decorating trick she threw in: she placed the square envelope pillow on TOP of the bolster pillow. Aha! Nice touch! I really like it, more or less. It still doesnt look like Kellys though. Shoot! I dont know who my next house guest will be. Maybe Ill invite Martha Stewart. Would that be a good thing?

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Erin Morgensterns debut novel, The Night Circus, is a smashing tale of magic, greed and love at the turn of the 19th century. The circus arrives without warning. No announcements precede it. It is simply there, when yesterday it was not. Within the black and white striped canvas tent is an utterly unique experience full of breathtaking amazements. It is called Le Cirque Des Reves, and it is open only at night.

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magicians who are pitted against one another by their fathers. They have been groomed to become masterful opponents in the Night Circus as the stage is set for magic and murder. Morgensterns colorful characters are intensely imaginative and filled with excitement and intrigue. As the duel between Marco and Celia escalates, so does their love for one another. As their mentors try to intrude, these magicians attempt to defy all odds set against them. True love or not, the game must be played until the bitter end.

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AnEvery Day Vacation

by Diane Stark

It was Tuesday morning, and we had just returned home from vacation the night before. My husband and I had taken our five children down to Florida for ten days. We had a wonder-ful time, but now, it was time to get back to real life. I was already feeling overwhelmed, and it was no wonder. My To Do List looked like this:

1. Unpack our suitcases, and wash the resulting mountain of dirty clothes

2. Sift through the hundreds of emails that came in while I was away (This means resigning myself to the fact that although that recipe for cheesy oven baked country ranch potatoes does look both healthy and delicious, the odds that I will someday use this recipe are slim to none and then force myself to hit the delete key.)

3. Tackle several upcoming writing deadlines4. Clean my house5. Figure out how my house got so dirty when no one was living

in it for the past ten days6. Go grocery shopping (or teach my children to enjoy their

Froot Loops with milk that now resembles cottage cheese) 7. Did I mention the laundry?The plan for the day was to tackle my To Do List. I got up

early and threw a load of clothes into the washing machine. I was wading through my email when I heard my three-year-old son Nathan on the stairs. Mommy, can I have a Pop Tart please? He asked in a still-sleepy voice.

I grabbed a strawberry Pop Tart and a sippy cup of milk for him. Here you go, Baby, I said, planting a kiss on the top of his head.

Moments later I heard, Uh oh, I dropped some of my Pop Tart on the floor.

I bent down to pick up the strawberry Pop Tart and spotted a piece of blueberry Pop Tart down there as well. Wed been on vacation

for the last ten days, so that meant that a piece of someones breakfast had been lying under my table for quite some time. Upon closer inspection, I noticed pieces of someones lunch and dinner down there too. Because it was prime ant season, immediate action was required.

I moved the kitchen chairs into the living room and got out the vacuum. But before I could push start, Nathan said,

Ooh, Mommy, you built me a train! Nathan pointed to the kitch-en chairs, which were now lined up in a row.

Nathan ran and sat down in the first chair. Sit on my train, Mommy, and Ill take you for a ride!

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I glanced back at the vacuum, picturing the giant ants that would overtake my house if I didnt clean up the smorgasbord under my table. I was about to say no when Nathan grabbed my hand. Please, Mommy? My train is going to Florida. You and me can go on another vacation!

Another vacation? It sounded too good to be true. I grinned and sat in the second chair of the train.

Toot toot! said the conductor wearing Thomas the Train pajamas. Next stop Sea World! Two minutes later, Nathan turned around and said, Were at Sea World, Mommy. Lets go watch Shamus Big Show.

We got off the train and sat on the couch. Were in the Splash Zone, Mommy, so youre going to get wet. The water will be cold, so dont cry when Shamu jumps out of the water and splashes you, OK? When I went to Sea World on vacation, I saw a little boy crying because Shamu got him all wet.

I smiled. Nathan didnt mention that he was the little boy who cried.

After Shamu soaked us, we got back on the train and Nathan drove us to the beach.

By 10 am, Id ridden Nathans train and had the following unbe-lievable experiences:

1. Rode Bert and Ernies Big Coaster, not once, but four times (Busch Gardens has a Sesame Street theme.)

2. Cooked cheeseburgers for a tyrannosaurus rex3. Petted a sting ray named George and two dolphins named

Ozzie and Harriet4. Built sand castles at the beach and lost three toes and an eye-

ball to a giant shark that was hiding in my sand bucket5. Ate chicken nuggets at a dinosaur restaurant called T-Rex

(think Rainforest Caf, but with meteor showers and giant lizards)6. Rode the Busch Gardens safari train through the safari which,

oddly enough, only contained dinosaurs7. Had my picture taken with Elmo and Cookie Monster, but

decided that Big Bird was just a little too big to be my friend 8. Re-lived all the best moments of our vacation (and some com-

pletely made-up moments as well!)Yes, Id done all of those things, and I hadnt even gotten out

of my pajamas. (Amazing, isnt it?) It certainly wasnt what Id planned to do with my day, but when a three-year-old paleontologist-turned-train-conductor invites you to go for a ride on his chair train, its a rather unique opportunity.

The truth was, running around the house pretending to be on vacation was probably almost as much for Nathan as doing it the first time. Watching his imagination run wild sure was fun for me.

Weve been home from vacation for a few weeks now, but Ive been back to Florida almost every day. Do I have time to ride a chair train every afternoon? Not really. But heres the thing: My children and I count-ed down the days until that vacation. We were beyond excited about it and really bummed when it was over. But when I ride Nathans train each day, I get to witness his excitement all over again. I watch his eyes light up as he feeds an imaginary dinosaur. I hear him giggle because the giant shark is nibbling on my toes. Its like hes actually back in Florida.

When youre three years old, every day is a vacation.And Im really glad Nathan lets me tag along.

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Like Mother,Like Daughter

by Monica A. Andermann

Each morning I looked across the breakfast table at Mom. Was she really my mother? On the eve of my fifteenth year, I seemed to have so little in common with her. Mom liked vanilla ice cream, I liked chocolate; I painted my fingernails and wore eye shadow, Mom preferred the natu-ral look; I liked to stay up late, Mom preferred an earlier bedtime. Were it not for our same unruly hair, I would have just assumed that she found me soon after birth in a wicker basket float-ing down the river like Moses. We were just so different. Really, I wondered, where did I come from?

There was one thing Mom and I did have in common, though, our love for travel. I couldnt wait for the arrival of school field trips or youth group ski weekends, even though they never took me a fraction as far as Moms trav-els had taken her. My mother had called three different countries home by the time she was thirty, and her stories of all those faraway places fascinated me, especially exotic Brazil where her immediate family continued to live.

Each summer Mom would embark on a two week trip home to visit her mother and her brother and his family; relatives whom Id not yet met. She had a whole bevy of friends there, too, with lyrical names like Bethania, TaniaMaria, and Sueli. Ah, the lure of it all the tropical rainforest, the beaches, the mangoes hanging from the trees waiting for me to pluck! I so wanted to join her, to see firsthand what I only could imagine, but that was something else we couldnt agree on. Mom said that I needed to remain behind to take care of the household and make sure my younger brother stayed out of trouble while Dad was at work. Begging was useless. I remember one mara-thon petitioning session that ended with some weeping and slamming of doors. Oh, that day I knew just knew that there had to have been a mix-up at the hospital on the day of my birth. The woman sitting across the break-fast table from me couldnt possibly be my real mother.

Then one day in mid-July, Mom dropped her bombshell; this year I could join her. I was turning fifteen that August and since that birthday is of particular significance in the Latin-American culture, she felt I deserved a spe-cial gift: I could celebrate my birthday with her family in Brazil. What do you think? she asked, smiling.

Finally, I sighed coolly, were agreeing on something. Then I broke from the room like a racehorse at the starting gate and commenced packing.

Two weeks later I found myself sitting in the window seat of a jet, staring out at the blue gaslights of the runway. They flickered and flashed, and the jet began to taxi. Mom took my hand and in the same familiar tone she had used to usher me to my first day of school, she declared, Were ready to take off.

By the next afternoon, I was meeting my mothers family my family.

I almost gasped at the sight of them. Looking at my relatives was like watching my reflection in a carnival funhouse mirror; different heights and widths, yet somehow the same. And, with the exception of my uncle, we all had that trademark bushy brown hair. He was bald, with only a small tuft of hair at the crown of his head. Mom twirled the few strands around her index finger and, joking, suggested that a little blue bow might be just the right touch. My uncle took her teasing in stride, laughing himself, just like my own brother had when I dared him to wear one of Moms long blond wigs to the bus stop on the last day of school. Mom shared the story of how my brother accepted that dare, and we all laughed until we couldnt breathe, finally stopping when the rumble of our hungry stomachs could be heard above the reveling. So, putting our col-lective bushy heads together, we decided on a dinner of pizza at a local restau-rant. First, though, Mom stepped away to freshen up. She re-emerged minutes later with lips painted bright red. Mom wearing lipstick? I couldnt believe it. And who do you think was the last guest out of the restaurant that evening, yapping away long after the owner had swept the floors and locked the shut-ters? Yup, it was Mom.

I looked at my mother again. I had never seen this side of her. As the following two weeks unfolded, many more facets of my mother revealed them-selves with sparkling clarity. Those facets shone a lot like mine: the way Mom giggled with her girlfriends; how she could souvenir shop like it was an Olympic sport; how she saved a little bit of meat from dinner for the stray dog that lingered on the corner of my grandmothers street. And one night, after some strained words between her and my grandmother, my heart ached as I saw tears well in Moms eyes.

Those two weeks were crammed with sightseeing, celebration, but most of all, discovery; not just discovery of another country, but discovery of my family, my mother, myself. As I sat next to Mom on the airplane again, I saw someone much different from the woman who ate breakfast across from me each morning. I saw a daughter, sister, aunt and friend. I saw the woman she was, and the woman I would one day be privileged to become. Thousands of miles from home, finally, I saw my mother. And in her face, I saw myself.

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Driving down Hwy. 17 in North Myrtle Beach today, its hard to visualize a time, 7500+ years ago, when Native Americans hunted and fished along these shores, making their homes in virgin forests of pine and cypress. Arrowheads and shards of pottery will soon be on display at the North Myrtle Beach Area Historical Museum, providing a glimpse into that distant past. The area in and around North Myrtle Beach has a rich and complex history that is being compiled and made ready for museum visitors to enjoy. Led by its dynamic Director, Jenean Todd, the Museum will celebrate its grand opening next spring, on March 10, 2013.

Vivacious and energetic, Jenean was raised in Cary, North Carolina. After high school, she left the south for Pennsylvania, where she attended the Art Institute of Pittsburgh. My grandmother lived there so it was like a second home to me, Jenean assured me when I asked her about the transition. A chance comment from one of her professors literally changed the course of her career. He told me that I would never be a fine artist, but he could see me managing a gallery or museum! After graduation, Jenean moved back to Cary and went to work for a silk screen company, but soon accepted a position with the North Carolina Museum of History in Raleigh, her first museum job.

That was my first taste of museums, she told me thoughtful-ly, and I then realized my father had literally paved the way for my career. He loved museums, especial-ly ones focusing on the Civil War, and growing up we visited a lot of them. This was the 1970s, and, back then, museums werent inter-active; there was nothing for chil-dren I hated them! But, these experiences helped me to under-stand how to engage young people in a learning environment.

Two years later, Jenean, by then a new mother, moved to Wilmington, accepting a position as Exhibit Designer at New Hanover County Museum. Leaving behind her family was not easy. I had no support system and was a single

mother to my son, Collin, then a year old. It was so difficult! But, she loved her work. My degree is in visual communication, and museum exhibits are basically three-dimensional layouts. The position was a perfect outlet for my creative nature.

New Hanover County Museum was housed in a 1939 National Guard Armory, a perfect site for historical preservation, but space was limited. In the early 1990s we expanded the museum from 13,000 to 39,000 square feet it was an exciting time. The name was changed to Cape Fear Museum, and my title changed to Exhibit Coordinator. Our space was amazing it was designed by Ralph Appelbaum Associates, the same group who designed the Holocaust Museum in Washington, D.C.

Personally, Jeneans life was changing as well. In 1988, she married and had another son, Griffin. Her work with the museum was challenging and rewarding. After helping her husband earn a degree at UNCW, the five-year marriage ended.

Several years later, Jenean met and married her soul mate, Ken. The couple bought a fixer-upper and began remodeling. One night, at midnight, Ken and Jenean woke up, sickened by the smell of the carpet in the house. They stripped the carpet from the floor, and went back to bed. The next morning I woke up and told Ken about a dream Id just had. I was holding a legal pad with a list of names on it. I had crossed off all but one Huston. We decided if we had a baby that would be its name. The name might have been forgotten, but my son Griffin kept it alive, always talking about baby Huston. In 1997, our daughter, Huston, was born!

Lovers of the famous dance, the shag, Ken and Jenean visited North Myrtle Beach through the years for SOS (Society of Stranders) and other shagging events, eventually buying a condo as a weekend getaway. I took my first shag lessons shortly after meet-

Southern SnapsJenean Todd

Preserving the Past, Inspiring the Futureby Leslie Moore


Museums are charged with preserving history, and Jeneans expertise will ensure the proper storage and display of exhibits. She explained that long-term exhibits are on display for maybe 10-15 years. The artifacts are then carefully stored away from light and humidity. Textiles and paper items must be rotated every six months. At home we leave our photographs out forever. In the Museum, we scan each photo at a high resolution, and then return each to a protective sleeve for safekeeping. We can use the scan for any num-ber of reproductions, and never harm the original. The museum is currently a work in progress, with boxes and files of donated items lining the rooms, waiting to fascinate and educate future visitors. Jenean proudly showed me around, pointing out some of the highlights and is especially excited by kiosks that will house oral histories by some of the areas oldest residents. The Museums collection is growing daily, as more and more items are donated. Visitors will see everything from Native American artifacts to a stunning mural of local shaggers, with hands-on elements that reveal a local perspective on history and science topics.

While the museum is not yet open to the public, meetings and events are being held in the main gallery. Volunteers are currently being trained to record artifact donations and memberships. As opening day draws near, volunteers will be trained to answer questions about the exhibits and to conduct family and student programs. When I asked Jenean where she hopes to be in five years, her passion for the new Museum shone through her words. I believe well have grown so much that well be preparing to expand. This Museum will be a welcoming place where visitors of all ages can explore regional growth, witness the devastation of Hurricane Hazel, sway to the sounds of beach music, examine coastal research and discover the resilient spirit that makes North Myrtle Beach a great place to live and vacation. This will be a place where local history can be treasured and shared here we will celebrate our region.

The Museum is accepting Founding Members, individuals whose names will be listed on the Founders Wall, through January 31, 2013. If you have North Myrtle Beach area memorabilia or office equipment to donate or if you would like to sponsor an exhibit, call 843-427-7668 or visit www.nmbmuseum.com.

ing Ken. When I was pregnant with Huston, everyone saw me on the dance floor, getting bigger as the weeks passed. In 2010, the couple came to North Myrtle Beach for their anniversary, stopped by the Chamber of Commerce and saw North Myrtle Beach Area Historical Museum logo items for sale. I asked about the Museum and learned it wasnt open yet. Chamber staff put me in touch with local businessman, Dick Hester, whose vision was the driving force in bringing the Museum to life. On March 10, 2005, Dick had awakened with a vision of the completed museum in its current location, the old library build-ing on 2nd Ave. N., even before there was discussion of a new library in NMB. Dick shared his vision with the North Myrtle Beach City Council, who sup-ported his idea with one condition that he accept the position of chairman!

Dick Hester remembers this night very well. It was on a Thursday morning, and I woke up about 3:30 am seeing a vision of our museum, he began. Our area has changed in so many ways and is very different compared to fifty-plus years ago. In my vision I saw an oral and pictorial history of the surrounding areas of North Myrtle Beach on display, in a setting where future generations could get a first hand view of how we got to where we are today.

Jenean and Ken went back to Wilmington after that first meeting with Dick Hester, but she was intrigued by the idea of a museum in North Myrtle Beach. After 24 years in Wilmington, she was ready to do something different. After much thought and other job offers, she accepted the position of Director for the fledging Museum and began work in July of 2011.

The Museum committee knew they needed a leader with expe-rience and were thrilled to find Jenean. I first met Jenean on a Saturday morning, and we talked for about two hours, Dick remembers. The North Myrtle Beach Area Historical Museum Board of Directors had been meeting for six years, and we realized that it was time to find someone to lead us forward. Jenean was that individual. I do not know where we would have been today if she had not come our way. With her guid-ance, direction, experience and leadership, the Museum now has a Grand Opening Day scheduled for March 10, 2013, exactly eight years from the day I had my vision. Jenean was the answer to my prayers and has proven to be exactly the person we needed to make this vision a reality.

Jenean and her family love living in North Myrtle Beach and have settled in to the laid back life offered by the tight-knit community. Ken continued to commute to Wilmington for a short while, but is now retired. He volunteers and plays pickle ball, a game that combines tennis, badmin-ton and ping pong he loves it! The couple soon found their two-bed-room condo was not big enough for a family of three and bought a house in the area. Huston, the only child still at home, is a sophomore at North Myrtle Beach High School.

Haunted by Glue Guns

by Debra LarsonBragging about his mummy costume was Pauls mistake. Being late

was mine. Combined, our errors led to a spotlight effect as I entered his first grade classroom, bagged costume in hand, for his Halloween party. I apolo-gized and whisked him out of his creepy-snack-making activity and found an empty room in which he could change. The payoff for my nightmare to outfit Paul was moments away, when he would march back into his classroom wear-ing the best costume he would ever have.

I hadnt said no when my six-year-old announced he wanted to be a mummy for Halloween because as the youngest of four boys, Paul usually accepted the limitations of my time, wallet or creativity. His rare persistence softened me and before reason set in I had agreed to mummify him for his school party. Besides, I thought creating a mummy costume would be as simple as wrapping him in toilet paper or slipping him into a king-sized pillowcase and drawing horizontal lines.

The chance of rain on Halloween nixed the TP idea and the pillowcase one was, well, lame. I had to come up with something Paul could wear with pride. I saw promise in linens and bought a white sheet from a thrift store. I shredded it into strips. The pile of mummy raw material looked great, like I knew what I was doing. But I had no clue how I would attach them to my son.

I am not a Supermom a mother who has a glue gun and is prepared to use it but an impulse buy and wishful thinking had put one in my closet. There it stayed, unopened, for over five years. I feared the glue gun as if it were a firearm. It represented one of my major deficiencies as a mother being craft challenged. Even uncomplicated projects make me feel like my hands are on backwards. A friend introduced Paul to Mickey Mouse pancakes at a sleepover, and he wanted me to recreate them. Its just three cir-cles, Mom. Yeah, but two of the three circles need to be smaller than the first, and they shouldnt be in a row. No one wants caterpillar pancakes.

It took blood (mine) from safety-pinning the sheet strips to Pauls clothes before I even looked in the direction of the closet housing the never-used glue gun. I didnt want to stain the sheets with my blood, which unfortunately dries browner than Halloween-endorsed fake blood and therefore wouldnt enhance the costume.

For the love of my child, I got the glue gun.The instructions informed me the glue would be

hot and not to touch it, totally missing the mark on offering encouragement. I quelled my nerves by carefully preparing my workspace and thinking through the task ahead. I lay the white strips I had cut on the table. Wrapping the first strip around a newspaper-stuffed white sweatshirt, I gently pulled the glue gun trigger. Like magic, a hot glob landed on the sheet attaching the strip to the sweatshirt. I tried another spot, and then another. This wasnt so bad.

At one point, my trigger pulling yielded nothing. I studied the gun and saw the glue cartridge had fallen out. I searched the ground, my hunt lead-ing me under the table. At this point my husband came in, and I explained the problem. I think you used it up, he said. I was slow on the uptake. Yeah, I said, still on my knees. No duh. But wheres the cartridge? Gently he said, I think you consume the entire cartridge when you glue. Oh. That hurt, receiv-ing Martha Stewart advice from a man.

I slipped the next stick in place and found my rhythm. Things were progressing well, and I was pleased glue-to-skin contact didnt melt finger-prints. Through the growing web of glue strands, I noticed I might be wrap-ping the strips too tightly. That was when I learned another glue gun basic

theres no going back.Huddled behind a bookshelf in our private classroom,

Paul wiggled into the bottoms easily. The top, however, only allowed his head and one arm. This would not do. I tried coaxing his left arm in. Perhaps my facial expression had a no-compromise intensity that made Paul fear a dislocated

shoulder, because the typically easygoing kid suddenly said, I want out of here!

Ready as hed ever be, Paul walked into his class-room, head held high and thirty-six eager eyes on him.

Batman, Harry Potter and Ninja-kid looked baffled, clearly trying to recall the species of mummy

with white wrapped legs and a striped navy shirt. Fortunately, Pauls confidence as a

semi-mummy warded off evil com-ments, and he made it through the party unscathed. But Mom, he said after the party. What will I wear Trick-or-Treating?

After school I began the scissors massacre. My nerves frayed,

I snipped wildly at the sheet strips until Paul could get into the costume. He dropped his

head studying the look. Loose ends dangled. Youre a ragged mummy, I tried. Its scarier.

He was quiet. Finally, a smile emerged.That evening, a friend complimented me

on Pauls costume. I wanted to tell her everything, the pain, the humiliation, the disappointment. But the fact was, the boy walking in front of us would make any mummy proud and was a victory for me. I had broken the curse of the mummy.

I had also conquered my fear of glue guns, which didnt whet my appetite for craft-making, but felt good nonetheless. I realized where I do like to express my creativ-ity, tweaking recipes and fussing with a bouquet till it sings, and of course writing. Most importantly, I learned to scru-tinize sleepovers more carefully. If a friends family uses lan-

guage like scrapbooking, my boys staying home.


Meet Mindy McVay HeilmannA Columbia, South Carolina, native, the lovely and stylish Mindy McVay Heilmann moved to the Myrtle Beach area in 1972, started her design business three years later and has created beauty through her work ever since. Owner of Mindy McVay Interior Design, she is a professional member of the American Society of Interior Design (ASID), and has won numerous awards for her work. When Kathleen Hughes, a friend and volunteer for the Smith Medical Clinic, asked her to help with a Designer Showhouse in Georgetown, to ben-efit local charities, Mindy agreed to become the Design Coordinator.

Please tell us a little about the Designer Showhouse.It will be in the Stewart Parker House in Georgetown, on Front Street, beside the Kaminski House. This is a lovely, Georgian, waterfront mansion, con-structed around 1740, and local legend has it that George Washington was entertained here! Proceeds from the Showhouse will benefit Smith Medical Clinic, Healthy Learners and Friends of the Kaminski House Museum. Twelve designers and design firms will participate, each designing a room or space in the house. There will also be a boutique, at 905 Front Street, with many unique items for sale. My design premise for the house is Southern Style with No Boundaries, and visitors are going to love the eclectic blend of styles!

Most people dont realize that the designers finance everything they use in the showhouse, a very costly donation, and the furnishings in the house will be for sale, with the proceeds going to the charities. Most designer showhouses are done to benefit non-profits and to promote the interior designers ours is unique from other showhouses as they are usually done in homes that are for sale. The house will be open for two weeks, from October 13-27, and on three Sundays the designers will be in the house to answer questions Designer Sundays are always a favorite with showhouse visitors.

What is your favorite design work, and what else do you do?Model homes are my specialty and I have designed several in the Grande Dunes, however, I do all types of creative design work, including commercial design, consultations, refurbishing and condo packages. I am also a sculptor and jewelry designer. Sculpture is one of my hobbies and I have sold a couple of pieces at the Brookgreen Galas silent auction.

I have lived in Pawleys Island since 1995 and Myrtle Beach 23 years prior. I am dedicated to my yoga and Pilates practice and enjoy kayaking, cycling and walking on the beach.

gets candid

I also volunteer with the American Cancer Society at the Francis B. Ford Cancer Treatment Clinic in Georgetown, educating patients and helping them access services. A lot of people dont realize how many free services are available for cancer patients, family members and supportive friends. Im a cancer survivor as well melanoma and thyroid cancer, so I understand what theyre going through. I was very fortunate to have discovered the melanoma at the insitu stage. It was just a tiny little black dot barely noticeable. After discovering and excising the melanoma, a friend insisted I have a PET CT scan and thats when stage 1 thyroid cancer was dis-covered. I had no symptoms and was told I had probably had it for eight years. I feel very fortunate to have discovered these cancers so early and urge everyone to have their skin checked yearly. Melanoma can be deadly.

Where can we get tickets to the Designer Showhouse?They are available at Currents, Harrington Altman and Primarily Pine in Pawleys Island; Bienvenue Home and the Kaminski House Museum in Georgetown; Posh Interiors in Surfside; Rose Arbor Fabrics in Myrtle Beach and Park Smith in Conway.

Tickets are $15 in advance and $20 at the door. The house will be open from 10 am-4 pm, Monday through Saturday and 1-4 pm on Sunday. Our website is designershowhousegtownsc.com.

Contact Mindy at www.mindymcvayinteriors.com or 843-424-6701.


BUSINESSLeslie West

Rachel Buckley, owner of Simply Sophia, enjoys travel and the convenience of flying. I love that we can get just about anywhere in the country in a matter of hours! While most of her recent traveling has been to visit family in Washington, D.C., one of Rachels favorite trips was a Carib-bean Cruise. In Puerto Rico, we went kayaking in a beautiful lagoon at night. The lagoon houses an exotic organism that glows when touched. It was such a unique experience. At home, Rachel is looking forward to Halloween, especially since this is the first year her daughter, Sophia, will be able to participate. We are very excited! I love dressing up and handing out candymy favor-ite costume is a Renaissance princess. Rachel shared her very personal reason for opening Simply Sophia. We started our business last year after Sophias birth. She was born 2 1/2 months prematurely, weighing only 3 pounds and spent 6 weeks in the NICU. After this battle for her little life, I wanted a way to always be with her. Sophia joins me most days at the boutique, and recently took her first steps here! I love being able to enjoy all the special moments with her every day. There is a lot going on at Simply Sophia, A Childrens Boutique, this season. Rachel isexcited about the arrival of all the new fall clothing, toys and accessories. We have several custom pumpkin sets, game day sets and much more. We also have a variety of dance and ballet wear, dress up and costumes. Weve recently added a large selection of Melissa & Doug Wooden Educational Puzzles, Toys, and Crafts, and just received our new shipment of See Kai Run shoes.

Rachel Buckley

Restless Style Salon & Nail Spa, 981-E Hackler St., Myrtle Beach 843-839-9744www.facebook.com/RestlessStyleSalonNailSpa

Simply Sophia, A Childrens Boutique, 328 Laurel Street, Unit 104, Conway 843-488-9003www.simplysophiaboutique.com

In 2009, Leslie West, owner of Restless Style Salon, took a cruise with her son, who is now 16. We went to the Caribbean, and my favorite part was visiting Honduras. What an amazing place! The beauty was breathtaking and I enjoyed learning about their culture. Halloween is one of Leslies favorite holidays, and while she doesnt dress up, she loved seeing her son in costume when he was younger. Leslie has a natural gift for envisioning the perfect hairstyle or fashionshe loves her work! Recently, I was on my second round of P90X and discovered that I could become a coach for Beachbodynow, 4 months later, I love motivating people toward healthier living. I use only organic and 100% vegan products in the salon and try to stay as close to natural as possible. So when I had an opportunity to become a fitness coach for this corporation, I knew it was a match made in heaven. It has been a blessing and an honor to be a part of trying to end the trend toward obesity, and to also give people a boost in their confidence by not just redoing their hair or make-up, but also their mind and body. Im very pleased that Restless Style Salon and Nail Spa has teamed up with Beachbody, and to celebrate, we are offering free makeovers for anyone who commits to a fitness program, said Leslie. This is not your typical fitness program; it is a system of tools, such as an online support system and most importantly your OWN personal fitness coach. We will do our best to provide you with as much coaching and positive reinforcement as needed to replace all the negatives in your life. This truly is a place of cleansing.

BUSINESSRick Baumann

Dr. Nick Pennings and his wife, Carol, enjoy exploring new places. Their last vacation was a trip to St. Kitts last December. We have five adult children, and we started taking them away instead of exchanging Christmas presents, said Carol. It is so much fun to get them together and see them interact. The best vacation the family ever took was when they loaded up all five kids and the family dog in a rented RV and headed from their home in New York to Florida! This busy couple enjoys giving out candy on Halloween. When we lived in New York, our neighborhood was the busiest trick-or-treat block in all of Orange Countyit was famous for cars lining up on the street, and hoards of kids going from house to house trick-or-treating. It was so busy that we would just sit on the front stoop and hand out candysometimes more than 50 bags, laughed Dr. Nick. If the weather was really nice, we even had to raid the kids stash a time or two because we would run out! When asked the best part of owning a business, Carol said it was definitely the freedom it gives us. There are no time clocks to punch; we make our own hours and determine our financial future. We have been doing Take Shape for Life for 4 1/2 years and decided to become health coaches because we recognize the amazing business opportunity that it affords. There is an im-mense need in our country to get people healthyboth physically and economically. Dr. Nick and Carol are doing monthly meetings the second Saturday of each month at ITT Tech in Myrtle Beach and are looking for people to become health coaches and help change the lives of people all along the Grand Strand!

Dr. Nick & Carol PenningsRachel Buckley

Murrells Inlet Seafood, 4886 U.S. 17 Business, Murrells Inlet 843-651-9309www.murrellsinletseafood.net

Take Shape For Life, 914-850-5830, 843-410-8735www.drnickpennings.tsfl.com, [email protected]

Simply Sophia, A Childrens Boutique, 328 Laurel Street, Unit 104, Conway 843-488-9003www.simplysophiaboutique.com

Rick Baumann, owner of Murrells Inlet Seafood would love to have the time to travel, but his business keeps him pretty stapled in. He laughed and said, My wife, Judy, and daughter, Emmamarie, get to take trips to visit relatives on the weekends, while I work and take care of our three dogs. Ricks Halloween plans are centered on his daughter, who loves going to the Murrells Inlet Marshwalk and trick-or-treating with her friends. I have been in business for myself for almost fifty years, Rick began, as a musician, writer, caterer, restaurateur, hunting and fishing guide, commercial fisherman, and logger (fire-wood). For the last forty-plus years my main endeavor has been owner of Murrells Inlet Seafood. I quit working for other folks after several doses of my best efforts being unappreciated. Ricks favorite part of owning his business is seeing the same smiling faces walk into his door. They could go anywhere to buy their food. When they come to my place, my staff and I greet them and make sure they have a happy experience. My customers teach me daily. This seasoned businessman also appreciates his wonderful staff. I have become increasingly aware of the privilege of employing a wonderful groupwhat a blessing it is to have their loyal sup-port. It is also a pleasure working with area chefs and restaurant owners that put a real focus on authenticity and quality. Rick is looking forward to falls seasonal opportunitieslocal fish, oysters, clams and white shrimp. Fall also brings the Pawleys Island Festival of Music & Art. It is an honor to cook for all of the entertainersand to cook for our customers special events throughout the fall and winter. Making folks happy with my food is so gratifying!


TheMiddle Seat

by Janey WomeldorfWhen we were young, families were larger, cars were smaller, and

when it came to vacations, everyone drove. We sat on the floor, we sat on laps, and if we were good, we got to sit on the armrest or lie across the back win-dow. People didnt worry about seatbelts; besides, where would they have attached them all? Our family car would have required eight an impossible feat. Maybe the car people knew that; they probably had big families too.

In our family, the kids always rode in the back, unless you were the smallest then you got to ride up front with Mum, either between her feet or on her lap. If you were one of the unlucky sardines squashed in the back, all you cared about was not getting stuck with the middle seat even the window was more comfortable than that. Once on the road, we played, we argued, we bonded and fought, and we held it. And of course, no family vacation is com-plete without the o

sasee october 2012

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