February PineStraw 2012 by PineStraw Magazine

You’ll fi nd more than 50 of the best brands here, including one you can’t find anywhere else. Adidas • Peter Millar • Sport Haley • Tail • Tehama • Puma • Titleist • Tommy Bahama • Under Armour • FootJoy • Straight Down Pinehurst Collection • SDI • Zero • Maui Jim • Oakley • Brighton • Dooney & Burke • Putterboy Collection • Vera Bradley • Isda Cole Haan • Lilly Pulitzer • Iliac • Aveda • La Bella Donna • J. Lindeberg • Ashworth • Oxford • Polo • Ashworth • Adidas • Ahead American Needle • Bobby Jones • Callaway • Cutter & Buck • EP Pro • Fairway & Greene Gear • Greg Norman • Imperial • Nike

The Pinehurst Shops are full of shirts, shoes, jackets, spa products, bags, gifts and accessories from brands like Vera Bradley, Adidas, Nike, Peter Millar and Cole Haan. So come in and find your favorites. Village of Pinehurst, North Carolina • 910. 235.8154 • pinehurst.com

Fine Homes www.prudentialproperties.com

One of the finest estates in Old Town Pinehurst. Very private with over 1.5acres of lush grounds. Marvelous craftsmanship.

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Old Town Pinehurst

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Emily Hewon 910.315.3324

Carolyn Hallett 910.986.2319

Spectacular waterfront home with views from every room! Private setting. Lovely renovations!

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Old Town Pinehurst

Designed to capture golf and pond views. Living areas are bathed in natural light. $595,000

Joel Rich 910.315.4009

Eva Toney 910.638.0972

Joel Rich 910.315.4009

Impressive golf front home on Holly Course. Craftsman details and design. $579,000

Pinewild Country Club

Unique Lake Pinehurst home with wide views and fabulous floor space all on one level. $575,000

Lake Pinehurst

Stately two story brick home. Beautiful interior details! Private grounds & 2-decks. $487,500

Kay Beran 910.315.3322

Carolyn Hallett 910.986.2319

Contemporary renovation offering gourmet kitchen, chic bathrooms and a private guest suite!

Wonderful Weymouth

Deluxe master suite, chic kitchen opens to family room & two fireplaces! Garage & Workshop!

Delightful Downtown

Completely Remodeled with Custom Features Throughout. A Must See! $285,000

Mav Hankey 910.603.3589

Debbie Darby 910.783.5193

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©2011 Prudential Financial, Inc. and its related entities. An independently owned and operated broker member of Prudential Real Estate Affiliates, Inc., a Prudential Financial company. Prudential, the Prudential logo and the Rock symbol are service marks of Prudential Financial, Inc. and its related entities, registered in many jurisdictions worldwide. Used under license. Equal Housing Opportunity.

February 2012 Volume 7, No. 2

FEATURES

51 The Snowmen Poem By Tony Abbott 52 The Honeymooners By John H. Wilson 54 Affair of the Heart

DEPARTMENTS

12 17 19

Sweet Tea Chronicles Jim Dodson

PinePitch Cos and Effect Cos Barnes The Omnivorous Reader

Stephen E. Smith

23 27

Bookshelf Hitting Home

PS Traveler

Dale Nixon Tom Allen

33 Vine Wisdom Robyn James

Spirits Frank Daniels III

The Kitchen Garden

Out of the Blue

Jan Leitschuh

Deborah Salomon

43 Birdwatch Susan Campbell

The Sporting Life

Tom Bryant

By David C. Bailey

One woman’s love affair with Heart and Soul Jazz

56 Bless Our Hounds

By Maureen Clark

The foxhunting tradition, begun by James Boyd nearly 100 years ago, continues

60 Hot and Bothered

By Moselle Deercorn

A true life, pulse-racing Southern faux-mance

64 Photo Synthesis

By Mary Elle Hunter

Bill Stoffel’s legacy of the lens

66 Going With The Flow

By Deborah Salomon

A thoroughly modern family’s life in the present tense

73 February Almanac

By Noah Salt

Time to divide those perennials and prune those fruit trees

47 74 84 93

Golftown Journal Lee Pace Calendar SandhillSeen Thoughts From The Manshed Geoff Cutler 95 PineNeedler Mart Dickerson 96 SouthWords Laurie Birdsong

February 2012 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . PineStraw : The Art & Soul of the Sandhills

One of the finer things in life is a DUX® Bed. The reasons are simple, yet elegant. DUX Beds are handmade to offer the ultimate in comfort and support. DUX soothes and relaxes you with its revolutionary technology and world-class materials. Imagine sleeping in a bed so desired that it is found in the world’s most luxurious hotels. DUX—sophisticated, satisfying sleep.

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Bed

Bath

Table

Sleepwear

Fragrances

Florals

Gifts

Eyebobs

PineStraw M A G A Z I N E Jim Dodson, Editor

910.693.2506 • jim@pinestrawmag.com

Andie Stuart Rose, Creative Director 910.693.2467 • andie@pinestrawmag.com

Kathryn Galloway, Associate Art Director Ashley Wahl, Editorial Assistant EDITORIAL

Deborah Salomon, Staff Writer Stephen E. Smith, Staff Writer Sara King, Proofreader Mary Novitsky, Proofreader PHOTOGRAPHERS

Tim Sayer, Cassie Butler, John Gessner, Hannah Sharpe CONTRIBUTORS

Hawkins & harkness FINE JEWELRY

132

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910.692.3749 | 888.609.7622

Tony Abbott, Tom Allen, David C. Bailey, Cos Barnes, Laurie Birdsong, Tom Bryant, Suzanne Cabrera, Susan Campbell, Maureen Clark, Geoff Cutler, Al & Annette Daniels, Frank Daniels III, Moselle Deercorn, Mart Dickerson, Mary Elle Hunter, Robyn James, Pamela Powers January, Jan Leitschuh, Dale Nixon, Lee Pace, Jeanne Paine, Noah Salt, John H. Wilson

PS David Woronoff, Publisher

Fun doesn’t stop after retirement. Why should you?

ADVERTISING SALES

Darlene Stark, Advertising Manager 910.693.2488 • dstark@pinestrawmag.com Michelle Palladino, Sales Representative 910.691.9657 • mpalladino@pinestrawmag.com Terry Hartsell, 910.693.2513 Kerry Hooper, 910.693.2508 Perry Loﬂin, 910.693.2514 Peggy Marsh, 910.693.2516 Darlene McNeil-Smith, 910.693.2519 Johnsie Tipton, 910.693.2515 Karen Triplett, 910.693.2510 Pat Taylor, Advertising Director ADVERTISING GRAPHIC DESIGN

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CIRCULATION & SUBSCRIPTIONS

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PineStraw Magazine

910.693.2467 173 W. Pennsylvania Avenue Southern Pines, NC 28387 pinestraw@thepilot.com • www.pinestrawmag.com ©Copyright 2012. Reproduction in whole or in part without written permission is prohibited. PineStraw magazine is published by The Pilot LLC

Relax. Enjoy your retirement.

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Live Call today and reserve your private tour of our spacious homes, quaint cottages and beautiful apartments. Discover all Pine Knoll and Belle Meade have to offer as two

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St. Joseph of the Pines is an aging service network offering a full continuum of retirement housing, health care and community-based services for older adults as well as community outreach to those in need.

www.sjp.org

Thank You!

for your support of the 2011 FirstHealth Moore Regional Hospital Auxiliary

Holiday Ball

Sapphire Sponsors

Gold Sponsors

Silver Sponsors

FirstHealth of the Carolinas Monteith Construction Monroe & Monroe, DDS, PA

Pinehurst Medical Clinic Pinehurst Radiology Steven M. Van Scoyoc, DDS

Branch Banking & Trust Mr. Michael A. Harrell & Dr. Sharon N. Harrell Dr. & Mrs. Michael T. Henry Dr. & Mrs. David F. Martin The Pilot Pinehurst Surgical Clinic St. Joseph of the Pines

Bronze Benefactors

Dr. Sharon Harrell & Mr. Michael Harrell 2011 Holiday Ball Chairs

Doctors Clement & Kamron Monroe

Seated Left to Right: Wendy McCollum, Michael Harrell, Dr. Sharon Harrell, Sheila Williams Standing Left to Right: Dorothea Ewing, Nakia Scantling, Dr. Anbec DeShield, Dena Locklear and Mr. David Williams

Mr. & Mrs. Russell E. Bennett, Jr. Dr. & Mrs. John W. Byron James Corcoran, DDS Dogwood Dental Associates Dr. & Mrs. John N. Ellis First Bank - Troy Mr. & Mrs. Charles T. Frock Mr. Rudolf Gatti & Dr. Christine P. Gatti Mr. & Mrs. Thomas M. Haislip Dr. Bruce P. Jaufmann & Dr. Carol M. Wadon Dr. & Mrs. John F. Krahnert, Jr. Lewis Chapel Missionary Baptist Church West Dr. & Mrs. Ward S. Oakley, Jr. Dr. John B. Oettinger Dr. Christine L. Powers Fred T. Ridge, DDS, PA Dr. John D. Shepherd & Dr. Jenifir J. Bruno Dr. & Mrs. Patrick J. Simpson Smith Moore Leatherwood Southern Pines Womenâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s Health Center Dr. & Mrs. David C. Thornton Mr. & Mrs. Howard J. Warren

Left to Right: Dr. & Mrs. John Monroe, Drs. Clement & Kamron Monroe, Mr. & Mrs. Bob Friesen, Mr. & Mrs. Charles Harris and Mr. & Mrs. Michael Black

Left to Right: Michael and Cindy Hetzler, Niki Barrett & Kyle Barnes, John Hawthorne & Jennifer Williams, Bryan & Kelly Thomas, Ron & Ann Whitley and John Monteith

Drs. Olujide & Ganiat Lawal, Dr. and Mrs. Charles Schirmer, Mr. & Mrs. Russell Sugg (seated) and Mr. & Mrs. David Petsolt (standing)

Benefactors Dr. & Mrs. Daniel R. Barnes Mr. & Mrs. R. Alexander Bowness Dr. & Mrs. H. David Bruton Carolina Eye Associates, P.A. Carolina Wealth Management Mr. & Mrs. Mark T. DeJaco Dr. & Mrs. T. Arthur Edgerton First Citizens Bank Mrs. Eloise Joy S. Hall Mr. & Mrs. Rick Halverstadt Mr. & Mrs. Albert H. Hammill Mr. & Mrs. Russell J. Hollers Mr. & Mrs. Russell L. Jones Mr. & Mrs. Ben E. Jordan, Jr. Mr. & Mrs. David J. Kilarski

Mr. & Mrs. Michael Lang Mr. & Mrs. Chip McDonald Mr. & Mrs. B. Donald McKenzie Mr. & Mrs. James R. Miles Dr. & Mrs. John L. Monroe Mr. Shane Moubry & Dr. Amy T. Moubry Mr. & Mrs. Todd Ray Mr. & Mrs. William A. Roberts Dr. & Mrs. Charles C. Schirmer Mr. & Mrs. G. Douglas Smith Mr. & Mrs. Charles E. Stockham Dr. & Mrs. Russell J. Tate, Sr. Mr. & Mrs. Robert E. Tweed Mr. & Mrs. Richard M. Welch

Auxiliary Board Trustees: Stephanie Stokes, Katherine Schirmer, Cornelia Morris, Tove Doolittle, Hillary Shilkitus, Stephanie Hoover, Susan Mason, Carol Ray, Lesley Berkshire Bradley, Lindley Fleury, Kelly Elliott, Sarah Ellman, Julie Martin and Courtney McGuirt

Patrons

Mr. & Mrs. J. Douglas Adair Mr. & Mrs. Barry H. Adams Mr. & Mrs. Daniel F. Biediger The Honorable Harris D. Blake Mr. Allen S. Bradley & Mrs. Lesley Berkshire Bradley Mr. & Mrs. Jeffrey A. Casey Dr. & Mrs. Robert J. Chamberlain, Jr. Dr. H. Willy Chu Cogdell Spencer Erdman Mr. & Mrs. John Crichton Roslyn M. Crisp, DDS Mr. David B. Dillehunt Mr. & Mrs. John Eastman Mr. & Mrs. Mark J. Elliott Dr. & Mrs. Peter I. Ellman Dr. & Mrs. Walter S. Fasolak Dr. & Mrs. Robert A. Fleury Dr. & Mrs. David M. Furie Mr. & Mrs. James H. Garner Mr. & Mrs. Keith E. Gunther Mr. & Mrs. H. Wayne Haddock Ms. Charlotte Hagan Dr. & Mrs. Joseph F. Hakas, Jr. Mr. Graham Hall Highland Pediatric Dental Mrs. Ann L. Hinchcliff Dr. & Mrs. Eugene F. Howden Mr. & Mrs. R. Carroll Hudson Mr. & Mrs. Koley Keel Mr. & Mrs. John M. Kober Ms. Julia Latham Dr. Olujide G. Lawal & Dr. Ganiat A. Lawal

Mr. & Mrs. Kenneth J. Lewis Mr. & Mrs. Robert D. Lloyd Dr. & Mrs. Alexander C. Logan, III Dr. & Mrs. Wayne B. Lucas Mr. & Mrs. Michael F. Mason Mr. & Mrs. C. Bruce Matthews Mr. & Mrs. Jon Patrick McClain Mrs. Wendy A. McCollum Dr. & Mrs. Wyman T. McGuirt Mr. Stuart L. Mills & Mrs. Helen Probst Mills Ms. Tammy Nicholson Mr. & Mrs. Mark W. Parson Mr. & Mrs. David L. Petsolt Pinehurst Radiology Group Dr. Matthew F. Reinhardt & Dr. Clare E. Reinhardt Sandhills Pediatrics Mr. & Mrs. James W. Saunders Mr. & Mrs. Robert A. Schlicht Mr. & Mrs. William F. Shilkitus Mr. & Mrs. Nat Smith Sparkling Smiles of Asheboro Mr. & Mrs. Rick M. Stefanik Mr. & Mrs. John C. Strickland Mrs. Genevieve B. Stuber Mr. & Mrs. James R. Sugg Mr. & Mrs. David T. Upchurch Mr. & Mrs. Howard J. Warren Mr. & Mrs. William K. Waters Mr. & Mrs. David E. Williams Mr. & Mrs. Robert D. Wilson

Mr. & Mrs. David Kilarski

Dr. & Mrs. Robert Chamberlain, Jr.

Mr. & Mrs. George Little

Mr. & Mrs. Mark Wesley Parson

Dr. & Mrs. Robert Fleury

Dr. & Mrs. Michael Henry

Left to Right: Mr. & Mrs. David Upchurch, Ms. Charlotte Hagan, Mr. & Mrs. Michael Hoover, Mr. & Mrs. Keith Miller and Mr. & Mrs. Matt West

Donors Mr. & Mrs. John G. Batchelor Mr. & Mrs. Richard H. Blum Mr. & Mrs. Joseph N. Bosco Mr. & Mrs. Jonathan C. Brenner Mr. & Mrs. Louis R. Compo Mr. W. Eugene Danneberg Mr. & Mrs. Kenneth J. Deceuster Ms. Betty A. Dorsett Mr. & Mrs. Peter M. Franklin Dr. William F. Freccia Mr. & Mrs. Ralph L. Gilbert Mr. & Mrs. Thomas A. Harrell Dr. & Mrs. William T. Kamp Dr. & Mrs. W. Kirby Kilpatrick

Dr. & Mrs. Robert G. Kroll Ms. Wanda R. Lawrence Dr. & Mrs. Nicholas J. Lynn Colonel Ret. Charlie T. McGugan Mrs. Jane McPhaul Mr. & Mrs. Thomas J. Nacca Mr. & Mrs. Mel G. Nelson Brig. General & Mrs. Robert A. Norman Mr. & Mrs. Charles O. Peterson Mr. & Mrs. Ralph J. Ronalter, Jr. Mrs. Mary Silverman-Ormond Mr. & Mrs. Joseph A. Sousa Ms. Peggy P. Tufts Dr. & Mrs. Terry V. Wood

Mr. Shane Moubry & Dr. Amy Moubry

MRH Auxiliary Chair: Julie Martin MRH Auxiliary Vice Chair: Lindley Fleury Ball Coordinators: Stephanie Hoover & Hillary Shilkitus Program Book: Kim Gilley & Vickie Auman Publicity: Cornelia Morris, Lesley Birkshire Bradley and Marie Lewis Ball proceeds support the FirstHealth Dental Care Center

SWEET TEA CHRONICLES

My Kind of Birthday Gift BY JIM DODSON

My neighbor was outrigged in a full arc-

tic parka, down on her knees wrapping what appeared to be miniature quilts around a number of rose bushes in her yard. The temperature was somewhere in the lower 20s, by far the coldest morning of a winter that had seen unseasonably warm temperatures and nary a hint of snow thus far. “Good morning,” I called cheerfully over her dormant Bermuda lawn. “Beautiful morning, isn’t it?” The golden light of dawn made the bare limbs and evergreen foliage come alive with muted colors — a world stripped bare of unnecessary ornamentation, exposing the architecture of a dozing Earth. That’s my poetic take on midwinter in the Midsouth, at any rate. My neighbor had another one altogether. She tucked in her last rose bush and stood up, thumping her arms as if to keep vital blood moving, and declared with the teensiest note of contempt: “Oh, it’s positively stunning — if you happen to be a candidate in the New Hampshire primary. But we moved here to get away from this kind of winter.” She punctuated this with a gentle swear word and added, “I forgot to cover up my roses last night. I just hope they aren’t %$&#*@ frozen to death.” Admittedly I’m only a world expert on how to kill innocent zone five plants above the Mason-Dixon Line, but as a veteran of both Southern and Northern winters, I suggested that her beloved tea roses would probably survive this first cold wave of the season just fine, especially given that temperatures by the weekend were expected to rebound to the lower 60s. “I just hope it’s not too warm,” I needlessly added. “I love midwinter. Especially February.” She gave me a look. “Are you crazy? Nobody loves February, dear, except maybe florists, guilty husbands, chocolate makers and Federal employees. Oh, yeah ... and all those candidates making hot air up in New Hampshire.” “Well,” I said, “it’s also my birthday month. I once had the time of my life covering the New Hampshire primary.” “Good for you,” she said. “And happy *&$%#@ birthday.” Indeed, as I hoofed on to work, thinking about the conjunction of February and presidential politics, I was suddenly remembering an even colder and clearer February morning in 1980 when I arrived at Logan Airport in Boston, rented a car, and headed off to cover the nation’s first presidential primary for my magazine in Atlanta. It was the coldest day I’d ever felt. My first time ever on New England soil. Fresh off a plane from the Iowa caucuses, where I’d followed George H.W. Bush around on the rural hustings for more than a week, hitting every coffee shop and hair salon in the state — watching him pull off an unexpected upset of front-runner Ronald Reagan in the process — I emerged from the Sumner Tunnel into frozen, sun-splashed downtown Boston and saw buildings leaking so much steam I thought perhaps they were on fire. There was no snow, but the cold was unlike anything I’d ever experienced.

I had a day to kill before my candidate touched down in Keene, New Hampshire, and I was scheduled to cover the New Hampshire primary on February 23rd. I decided to play tourist and catch some historical sights. It was my 27th birthday, after all, and this was a gift to myself, a Southern boy who — crazy, I know — always dreamed of experiencing real New England winter. My first move was to “pak the cah” and go snoop around Fanueil Hall, to lay gloved hands on some hot coffee and ask an unshaven clerk wearing a Bruins jacket how to get to Old North Church and whether the bank temperature sign reading minus-9 degrees could possibly be correct. He only laughed and told me it would be better to leave my car and go find the church in the city’s North End on foot unless I wanted to be shot dead by an irate Italian resident for trespassing in their close-knit neighborhood. I took his advice, set off to find the church made famous by Longfellow’s account of Paul Revere’s ride, and quickly had feet that felt like blocks of ice inside my pathetic tassel loafers. Somehow I reached the church and found its front door mercifully unlocked, whereupon I went inside and sat in a boxed pew that probably belonged to a signer of the U.S. Constitution, admired the simple Yankee architecture, took off my shoes and rubbed my feet. Back in my rental car, heater running full-blast, I took a spin around Boston Common — craziest drivers I’d ever seen, let me tell you, even counting Rome at rush hour — and somehow managed to find my way past Fenway Park, over the River Charles, through Harvard Square and out to Fresh Pond and thence on to Lexington and Concord on Highway 2, where the Sons of Liberty had once fired the first shots of American independence. I was thrilled to the bottoms of my frozen feet when a signpost quaintly announced “Walden Pond,” prompting a sharp left to a frozen pond surrounded by cattails. The English major in me briefly considered taking the trail around the famous pond to commune with the spirit of Henry David Thoreau, but then I envisioned park rangers finding my frozen body sometime in April and having a good laugh over my pathetic loafers. I can’t recall why I wanted to see the town of Amherst, possibly because candidate George Bush had mentioned it and I’d always liked the poetry of its most famous recluse, Emily Dickinson. I checked into the handsome Lord Jeffrey Inn and had a nice supper of baked halibut and Indian pudding, and found myself seated by William F. Buckley, the conservative author and commentator, in the bar afterward. He was giving a lecture in town the next day. We had a pleasant conversation about Bush’s upset win in Iowa, and I filled him in on how Bush’s “guerilla” strategy of shaking every hand in Iowa rather than relying on TV spots — not unlike Rick Santorum’s strategy this year — pulled off the startling upset of Ronald Reagan. I went to bed wondering what famous person I might meet next. The next afternoon, I arrived at the small airport in Keene to await George Bush’s plane from his big Iowa upset. The place was curiously quiet — a clerk and I chatted about the weirdly snowless winter thus far — but soon began to change when a TV reporter from NBC buzzed in with his trenchcoat flapping. I happened to be in the men’s room washing my hands when he breezed in to brush and spray his stylish hair. He asked me if I was a local reporter. I explained that I’d been covering the Bush campaign in Iowa, one of only two reporters who’d been with Bush. “Oh, really?” He asked me how Bush pulled off the upset, and I told him about the guerilla strategy, cleverly remarking,

PineStraw : The Art & Soul of the Sandhills . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . February 2012

SEVEN LAKES WEST

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Perfect golf front getaway on the 16th fairway of Foxfire West! Solid brick home with spacious rooms, open floorplan, great kitchen, oversized master and inviting patio area! 3 BR / 2 BA $249,900

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February 2012 P�� PineStraw : The Art & Soul of the Sandhills

SWEET TEA CHRONICLES

“Bush beat Reagan in the bushes.” By the time the candidate’s plane landed, the airport was crawling with reporters and TV crews. I watched the guy from NBC position himself for a live report as the new front-runner passed directly behind him, waving and smiling, heading for his campaign bus where I had a reserved seat. I heard the reporter tell Tom Brokaw all about the guerilla strategy and conclude his live broadcast with a clever, “And so, Tom, as someone close to the campaign remarked, ‘Bush beat Reagan in the bushes.’” Birthday gift No. 2: Never open your yap to TV reporters with hair issues, Bozo. Over the next couple of weeks I tracked all over the Granite State with Bush and Reagan and a gaggle of other candidates like Howard Baker and Bob Dole. Baker actually turned out to be the sparkling orator of the bunch, and Dole far funnier than his public reputation would suggest. Though I’d covered part of Jimmy Carter’s campaign in the Deep South four years before, I was, in fact, the rookie on the press bus. At one point at Dartmouth College, syndicated columnist Jack Germond bought me a bourbon in the bar after a debate and advised through his cigarette-stained teeth, “Listen, kid. Word of advice. Get the hell out of this racket before you turn into me.” On the third Saturday of the month, we were gathered in a chilly Nashua armory for a debate that was supposed to be exclusively between Bush and Reagan, paid for by Reagan, who at the last minute artfully invited five other candidates to join the fray. When Bush balked and the moderator insisted that Reagan’s microphone be switched off, the Gipper grabbed the microphone and shouted, “I am paying for this microphone, Mr. Green!” at which point the crowd went positively crazy. Bush’s quest for the White House died on the spot. Fun and addictive as it was — the spin doctors, the battle-weary hacks, the earnest blonde groupies — I eventually went home to a much warmer Atlanta weary of national politics and decided I really didn’t want to be Jack Germond after all. Ironically, the night before I flew home — the day after the primary where Reagan trounced Bush — a foot of snow fell. What did stay with me, however, was a deeper attraction to the winter landscape of northern New England, a cold that challenged my professed love of winter and perhaps explains why I eventually settled into life on a forested hill on the coast of Maine and stayed there quite happily for nearly two decades. During my subsequent years at Yankee Magazine, a stream of interesting presidential candidates came calling during New Hampshire’s famed February primary. Among other aspirants, I got to meet (with seasonally appropriate footwear, no less) and chat with a stream of

Democrats, including Gary Hart, John Glenn, Ernest Hollings and Jesse Jackson. Four years later, a friend invited me to have dinner with Bob Dole and Jack Kemp. I also took in interesting stump speeches by Pat Robertson and a rising star named Bill Clinton. It was a political junkie’s winter dream. Sometimes, I’ll admit, I miss those deep frozen winters of northern New England, even if I don’t miss the partisan bloodsport that American political campaigning and governing has become. As I walked to work this cold midwinter morning thirty-two years after that bone-chilling but life-changing February, the New Hampshire primary is merely days away from happening in its new January slot, followed closely by South Carolina’s and Florida’s unauthorized primary. This new arrangement is supposedly designed to prevent a winner-take-all scenario by the earlyvoting states. By February, Colorado, Arizona and Michigan will have weighed in on the matter, and the guy with the most dough will sew it up by mid-February. What’s different is me. I do love these soulful winter days, but not the cold the way I used to. I’m back in the Februarys of my boyhood, a landscape that shows me the beautiful architecture of Southern winter and roses wrapped in quilts. My kind of birthday gift. PS

New Homes & Remodeling Value Makes the Difference

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PineStraw : The Art & Soul of the Sandhills . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . February 2012

A Night (or Two) to Remember What’s the Buzz?

The eighth annual Spelling Bee for Literacy will be held Thursday, Feb. 16, at 7 p.m. The Bee, as the fundraiser is endearingly called, has earned a reputation as being one of the zaniest events in the Sandhills. Discover what the buzz is all about while rooting on a swarm of three-member teams who will lightheartedly compete for Best Spelling Team trophy, Best Team Costumes and Most Team Spirit. Proceeds benefit the Moore County Literacy Council. Admission: $10/Adults; $5/ Children. Donations welcome. Owens Auditorium, Sandhills Community College. Info: (910) 692-5954.

Easy as 1-2-3

The Artists League of the Sandhills offers several classes for those who are art-inclined to, pardon the pun, brush up on their skills this month. If, for instance, you’ve got the drawing part down but are stumped by how to transfer your sketch to the canvas, consider taking Linda Bruening’s “How Do I Begin?” class on Feb. 18 and 25, 10 a.m. to 4 p.m. Cost: $100. Info: (910) 9443979. For complete list of classes, visit www.artistleague.org.

Get your groove on at the Carolina Hotel on Feb. 10, 8 p.m., when Pat Bergeson (guitar, harmonica) and Annie Sellick (vocals) show you what the Heart & Soul of Jazz are all about. The Brian Newman Quartet will rock the ballroom the next night; same time and place. Both jazz concerts are followed by meet the artists dessert receptions. Tickets: $55/one night; $100/both nights. Overnight packages and prejazz dinners also available. Cardinal Ballroom, Carolina Hotel, Pinehurst. Tickets and info: www. ShopPinehurst.com; (910) 235-8415.

Flowery Language and Such

Lady Bedford’s Afternoon Tea Series features guest speaker Betty Thomas Stork on Tuesday, Feb. 7 at 2:30 p.m. Betty’s career as a florist has taken her from the Rose Bowl to the White House. Enjoy afternoon tea as Betty shares some of her most coveted floral arranging techniques. Cost: $25 (includes party favors and door prizes). Lady Bedford’s Tea Parlour, 21 Chinquapin Rd., Pinehurst. Info/ RSVP: (910) 255-0100.

Love is in the Ear

The Carolina Philharmonic presents an Early Valentine’s Movie Music Soiree on Feb. 6 that will feature Maestro David Michael Wolff’s enchanting renditions of various love songs, including tunes from Gone With the Wind, Il Postino, An Affair to Remember, Somewhere in Time, Evita, An American in Paris, and A Song to Remember. Soprano Young Mee Jun will sing. Owens Auditorium, Sandhills Community College, 7 p.m. Tickets: $40/priority reserved; $25/general; $10/student. Tickets available at www.shopcarolinaphil.org; The Arts Council, Given Book Shop, Heavenly Pines Fine Jewelry or the Arts Center Box Office, 5 Market Sq., Pinehurst. Info: (910) 687-4746.

February 2012 P�� PineStraw : The Art & Soul of the Sandhills

A Renaissance of Sorts

A Little Chocolate Goes a Long Way (A Lot Goes Further)

Watch out, Willie Wonka! That Chocolate Factory of yours pales in comparison with what’s to be found behind the doors of Pinehurst United Methodist Church on Feb. 11 — which, nudgenudge, is just in time to get your honey something sweet for You-Know-What Day. From 10 a.m. to 4 p.m., celebrate chocolate and charity at an everything-chocolate event that benefits Family Promise, Friend to Friend, Life Care Pregnancy Center and other United Methodist Women’s projects. Chocolate Festival includes candy making demonstrations, a cupcake competition, a cocoa café, homemade gourmet chocolate confections, children’s activities, a chocolate Bible study and a cake bake-off featuring the spectacular works of local pros. Sweet teeth welcome. Pinehurst United Methodist Church, 4111 Airport Rd., Pinehurst. Info: pinehurstchocolatefestival.vpweb.com.

Historical Notes

History buffs might have to choose between two intriguing lectures on Sunday, Feb. 26. At 2 p.m., historian and educator Milton J. Sills will provide a retrospective view of several area churches, including an in-depth discussion of church architecture. Free event. First Baptist Church, 200 E. New York Ave., Southern Pines. Info: Moore County Historical Association at (910) 692-2051. And at 3 p.m., David Cecelski and Reginald Hildebrand will present “From Civil Rights to Freedom Grove,” a lecture and video that covers North Carolina’s struggle for freedom, a reflection of where we’ve been and where we’re going. Reception follows. Free event. Weymouth Center, 555 E. Connecticut Ave., Southern Pines. Info: (910) 692-6261.

He was the archetypical Renaissance Man. Anatomist, botanist, scientist, sculptor, inventor, musician — and one of the greatest painters of all time. The works of Leonardo da Vinci never cease to enchant folks all over the globe. And on Feb. 17-19, art lovers right here in the Sandhills will have the opportunity to see some of da Vinci’s rarest paintings on the big screen at the Sunrise Theater during a special screening of Leonardo Live, an HD presentation of the once-in-a-lifetime exhibition: Leonardo da Vinci: Painter in the Court of Milan, as captured at the UK National Gallery. This unprecedented and historic exhibit — which, no shocker, sold out in London — brings together the largest ever number of da Vinci’s works, including a new, never-before-seen painting. Presented by art historian Tim Marlow and presenter Mariella Frostrup, Leonardo Live, which was filmed on the eve of the exhibition opening in November, features detailed examinations of da Vinci’s paintings and interviews with special guests and experts. So if you didn’t make it over to England in time to snag one of the last exhibit tickets, which sold for $700/ £457, by the way, now you can examine the paintings up-close while chomping on your favorite movie snack. Friday at 7:30 p.m.; Saturday at 2:30 and 7:30 p.m.; Sunday at 2:30 p.m. Tickets: $15/adults; $12/students. Sneak peek: www.sunrisetheater.com/ special-event.html; Info: (910) 692-8501 or www.sunrisetheater.com.

Think Inside the Box

Feb. 1 marks the beginning of the Sandhills Farm to Table Co-op’s 18-week Spring/Summer Season. This community grassroots project, which directly connects local households with boxes of fresh local produce and products from Sandhills farmers, features a new Online Store which allows produce box subscribers to choose between “Box A” or “Box B” each week — depending on personal preference — and gives members the weekly option of ordering extra quantities of fresh groceries to be picked up at area gathering sites along with the produce boxes. “Bread Box” subscriptions are also available for smaller households, which contain a loaf of home-baked honey wheat bread as a substitute for some of the produce in the box. For more information on Sandhills Farm to Table Co-op membership, subscription and area gathering sites, visit www.SandhillsFarm2Table.com.

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February 2012 P�� PineStraw : The Art & Soul of the Sandhills

How do you want to retire?

Some Like it Hot

Got a prize-worthy chili recipe? Find out March 3 from 12 to 5 p.m. at a chili cook-off to benefit the Spay and Neuter Veterinary Clinic of the Sandhills. Deadline for chili entry is Feb. 21; Cost: $25. Taste and vote for $5. Live music and unlimited beer cups ($10) kick it up a notch. American Legion Hall, 211 E. Main St., Aberdeen. Info: (910) 692-3499.

(Sun)Rise and Shining On

In addition to Leonardo Live, the Sunrise Theater presents the National Theatre’s production of Traveling Light — live and in HD — on February 9 at 2 p.m., and again at 7 p.m. Tickets: $20. The Metropolitan Opera’s Gotterdammerung (aka Twilight of the Gods) will show on Feb. 11 at noon; Ernani (also a Met production) will show Feb. 25 at 1 p.m. Both, you betcha, are in high-def. Tickets: $25. Sunrise Theater, 250 NW Broad St., Southern Pines. Info: (910) 6928501 or www.sunrisetheater.com.

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The Day the Music Died

On Feb. 3, 1959, three American rock and roll pioneers died in an airplane crash near Clear Lake, Iowa, at the height of their careers. Seniors are invited to celebrate the lives of Buddy Holly, Ritchie Valens and J.P. “The Big Bopper” Richardson on the anniversary of the day the music died. Meet at Douglas Community Center (1185 W. Pennsylvania Ave., Southern Pines) on Feb. 3 at 6 p.m. to watch La Bamba, a 1987 drama based on the life of Ritchie Valens. Heavy hors d’oeuvres will be served. Info/RSVP: (910) 692-7376.

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February 2012 P�� PineStraw : The Art & Soul of the Sandhills

COS AND EFFECT

Type Casting BY COS BARNES

The revived

interest in the death of Natalie Wood summoned many memories of when a portion of “Brainstorm,” a sci-fi thriller of the 1980s, was partially filmed in the Sandhills.

I was working for a local newspaper and when I inquired of the publicist how I could get a story, she said, “Be an extra.” She told me the auditions, which consisted of stating your name and availability, would be held at the Southern Pines Administration Building, which at that time housed the Chamber of Commerce. I signed us up, and when my husband returned from work that day, I told him we were going to be in the movies. He shocked me and said, “Good, I planned to take a few days off anyway.” We reported to Joe Bryan’s picturesque horse farm early on Monday morning. After a splendid fall, much like the one we just experienced, the rains came, and there was a deluge that October day. The scene had been set for a lavish cocktail party with all the tables set up outside and sporting exotic flower arrangements. This did not faze the movie-makers, who were experienced in making magic out of mess. The party was moved to the stable, and dressed in our cocktail finest, we danced to the strains of the orchestra (who Jerry Mashburn tells me were the Freemans, who later laughed at how many of their scenes were cut). I particularly remember Karl Stuart on drums, as he was the only one I knew. We all thought we were Hollywood bound with stardom just around the corner. The technicians were friendly and went to great lengths to explain everything they were doing, like filtering out the light when the rain ceased. So the men were as enchanted with the production as the women. You would hear comments from strangers who became fast friends during the three days of filming, such as, “And what do you do when you are not acting?” We were paid minimum wage and had delightful lunches, plus lots of time to learn about the stars. Natalie Wood kept to herself in her trailer, but when we did see her, she was as petite and pretty as she was in “Splendor in the Grass.” Christopher Walken, her co-star, was aloof, Louise Fletcher, friendly, but the crowd favorite was Cliff Robertson, a horseman, who rode frequently with Mrs. Ginnie Moss. Since we all became such amiable friends, my teenage daughter came by one afternoon and had her picture made with Robertson. Directed by Douglass Trumbell, a genius at sound effects, “Brainstorm” told a rather weird story of scientists’ development of a cap for the brain which could allow impulses to be transmitted to others. After Natalie’s death aboard a yacht with husband Robert Wagner and Walken, it was questionable whether “Brainstorm” would ever be released. However, we held a premier at the recently demolished theater at Town and Country Shopping Center and saluted her with glasses of champagne. Among the souvenirs of my acting career is a videotape which was given to me one Christmas. It says “‘Brainstorm,’ starring Cos Barnes.” PS Cos Barnes is a longtime contributor to PineStraw magazine. She can be contacted at cosbarnes@nc.rr.com.

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THE OMNIVOROUS READER

War Babies

For yet another generation of kids growing up in era of war, a useful look backward

BY STEPHEN E. SMITH

Way back in 1875, a

cranky Mark Twain was poking fun at our obviously wrongheaded notions of what a children’s book ought to be. In his “The Story of the Bad Little Boy,” wicked Jim, the narrative’s callous antihero, wasn’t at all like the bad little boys in Sunday school books who got what they deserved. Jim “grew up and married, and raised a large family, and brained them all with an axe one night, and got wealthy by all manner of cheating and rascality; and now he is the infernalist wickedest scoundrel in his native village, and is universally respected, and belongs to the Legislature.”

Despite the passage of more than a century, we persist in our belief that children’s books should be little more than moral tracts, overtly didactic stories, and rhymed couplets that teach the alphabet. After all, we wouldn’t want our children to become anything other than what we want them to be. So there I am in the kiddie lit section of the bookstore competing with other desperate adults, all of us running our index fingers along the spines of the brightly colored books that might discharge part of our Christmas giftgiving obligations. We mean well, even if we favor kaleidoscopic dust jackets and simplistic text. What the heck am I going to buy my 8-year-old second cousin? I can’t possibly read all these children’s books, and I don’t want to spend the remainder of my natural life plundering among the stacks. And there are

so many books, all of them radiating good intentions. Then, miracle of miracles, I discover what might be the perfect answer to my gift-giving conundrum: Franklin and Winston: A Christmas That Changed the World by Douglas Wood and illustrated by Barry Moser. (Despite the use of the word “Christmas” in the subtitle, this book transcends the holiday — and anyway, Christmas 2012 officially began on December 26, 2011.) The best thing about books written for the preadolescent market is that you can read them cover to cover in about ten minutes. And that’s just what I do. I gobble up the straightforward text with the passion of a man on a mission (which I am) and what I like most about the book is that it’s not condescending. It supposes that children have a basic understanding of the world in which they live. If the story is set in World War II, well, our kids know nothing but war — collapsing buildings, roadside bombs, their fathers dressed to kill and shipped off to distant countries that might as well be on Mars. So why not teach them that war is perpetual, that it’s been going on for as long as anyone can remember? Perhaps there’s some solace in that. Here’s the gist of things: It’s Christmas 1941, a few weeks after the sneak attack on Pearl Harbor, and British Prime Minister Winston Churchill travels to the United States to persuade President Franklin Roosevelt to throw the full weight of American manpower and industrial capacity into the fight against the Nazis and the Japanese. All of this is illustrated with beautifully executed watercolors of the main characters and the events surrounding their momentous meeting. Happily, there’s little of the gruesome reality of World War II (well, there is a watercolor of a towel-wrapped Churchill climbing in or out a bathtub with a cigar in his mouth). Otherwise, there are lovely images of the HMS Duke of York, Japanese Zeros, a Spitfire, and a Dornier Do 215 disgorging its bombs. If memory serves, 8-year-olds like that stuff. And the text is true to life and fact. A few years ago I read Franklin and Winston: An Intimate Portrait of an Epic Friendship by Jon Meacham, and Wood’s exposition would seem to be right on the money, at least from the

THE OMNIVOROUS READER

Allied point of view. If the text is a trifle demanding for an 8-year-old, that’s fine. Why not allow him or her the pleasure of growing into the book? Granted, a knowledgeable adult might need to explain what polio is (thank you, Jonas Salk!) and who Harry Hopkins was, but otherwise the narrative will be explicable to most 8- to 10-year-olds. Wood wisely includes the most memorable quotes from Churchill and Roosevelt. “Let us … so bear ourselves that if the British Empire and its Commonwealths last for a thousand years, men will say, ‘This was their finest hour’” and “This great nation will endure as it has endured, will revive and will prosper…. The only thing we have to fear is fear itself,” quotes that young readers are likely to hear for the rest of their lives. And there are less repeated quotes, such as this charming sentence spoken by a grumpy Churchill at the lighting of the National Christmas Tree: “We may cast aside, for this night at least, the cares and dangers which beset us, and make for the children an evening of happiness in a world of storm….” I also like the message conveyed by the fact that Churchill had done poorly in school and that his father had told him that he’d never amount to anything. That’s good news for kids who are late bloomers, which my second cousin is. I have to point out, however, that the ships bombed at Pearl Harbor were not the “American fleet,” but the “Pacific Fleet.” And there is a nasty subject-verb error in the conclusion: “When the last of their meetings were over…” should read: “When the last of their meetings was over….” The object of the preposition is not the subject of the sentence, thus the verb should be the singular “was.” If the book goes into a second printing, the author might want to make a correction. I wouldn’t want my second cousin uttering ungrammatical sentences. My other concern is rather petty: The book is too big. Measuring a little over 9” x 11”, 8- to 10-year olds might find it a trifle embarrassing to tote around a book whose size suggests that its contents are directed at a much younger audience. I remember how it was when I was a kid, and nobody wanted to be identified as reading below grade level — but I understand that the beautifully executed illustrations deserve the larger format. So I purchase a copy of Franklin and Winston, have it wrapped in Christmasy paper, and I mail it. The child’s mother phones me on the Monday following Christmas and says that my gift was much appreciated and that her son also received a PlayStation 3. PS Stephen Smith’s most recent book of poetry, A Short Report on the Fire at Woolworths, is available at The Country Bookshop. Contact him at travisses@hotmail.com.

February 2012 P�� PineStraw : The Art & Soul of the Sandhills

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BOOKSHELF

New Releases for February FICTION HARDCOVER WATERGATE by Thomas Mallon. From one of our most esteemed historical novelists comes a remarkable retelling of the Watergate scandal, as seen through a kaleidoscope of its colorful perpetrators and investigators. Mallon conveys the drama and high comedy of the Nixon presidency through the urgent perspectives of seven characters we only thought we knew before now. HISTORY OF A PLEASURE SEEKER by Richard Mason. An opulent, romantic novel, set at the height of Europe’s belle epoque, about a handsome young man in his mid-20s who secures a position as a tutor in the household of one of the most prominent bourgeois families in Amsterdam and his entry into a world of moneyed glamor and dangerous temptations. THE HEALING by Johnathan Odell. Troubled by his wife’s disturbing mental state and concerned about a mysterious plague that is sweeping through the plantation in the pre-Civil War South, Master Satterfield purchases a slave woman known as a healer. But the master gets more than he bargained for when Polly’s sharp tongue and troubling predictions cause unrest throughout the plantation. LONE WOLF by Jodi Picoult. Twenty-four-year-old Edward Warren, has been living in Thailand for five years, a prodigal son who left his family after an irreparable fight with his father, Luke. But he gets a frantic phone call: his dad lies comatose, gravely injured in the same accident that has also injured his younger sister Cara. With her father’s chances for recovery dwindling, Cara wants to wait for a miracle. But Edward wants to terminate life support and donate his father’s organs. Is he motivated by altruism or revenge? KILL SHOT: AN AMERICAN ASSASSIN THRILLER by Vince Flynn. Flynn is back with another nail-biting political thriller that follows the young Mitch Rapp on a deadly mission to hunt down the men responsible for the Pan Am Lockerbie terrorist attack. Rapp has become a liability, and he absolutely cannot be allowed to be taken alive by the French authorities. But it will soon become clear that nothing is more dangerous than a wounded and cornered Mitch Rapp.

PAPERBACK FICTION THE ORCHID HOUSE by Lucinda Riley. Spanning the 1930s to the present day, from a magnificent estate in war-torn England to Thailand, this sweeping debut tells the tale of a concert pianist, Julia, and the prominent Crawford family whose shocking secrets are revealed, leading to devastating consequences for generations to come. THE GIRL WHO KICKED THE HORNETS NEST by Stieg Larson. The third book in the series will be available in paperback on February 21st! THE WEIRD SISTERS by Eleanor Brown. Brown tells a beautiful story of sisterhood about women who love each other but do not always like each other. These women are bibliophiles and daughters of a Shakespearean professor who speaks in verse and they all return to their home to reunite.

CLARA AND MR. TIFFANY by Susan Vreeland. The New York Times best-selling author of The Girl in Hyacinth Blue creates a dynamic portrait of Clara Driscoll: lead designer for Louis Comfort Tiffany (famous for Tiffany lamps) and a woman conflicted between her desires for artistic recognition and romantic love.

HARDCOVER NONFICTION DAY OF HONEY: A MEMOIR OF FOOD, LOVE AND WAR by Annia Ciezadlo. Ciezadlo presents a beautifully written, fiercely intelligent memoir exploring the heightened meaning of cooking during wartime. DA VINCI’S GHOST: GENIUS, OBSESSION, AND HOW LEONARDO CREATED THE WORLD IN HIS OWN IMAGE by Toby Lester. An award-winning author takes on the genesis of Leonardo da Vinci’s Vitruvian Man. In this modest drawing, da Vinci attempted nothing less than to calibrate the harmonies of the universe and understand the central role man played in the cosmos. Lester brings Vitruvian Man to life, resurrecting the ghost of an unknown da Vinci. WANTED WOMEN by Deborah Scroggins. An excellent, often mesmerizing account of the two womenAyaan Hirsi Ali and Aafia Siddiqui- the intellectual center of the war on terror. That the author’s sympathies are with the woman “perhaps prepared to further a biological or chemical attack on the United States on a scale to rival that of 9/11” however, speaks volumes about the state of discourse. IMMORTAL BIRD: A FAMILY MEMOIR by Doron Weber. This is a searing account of a father’s struggle to save his remarkable son from a rare heart condition that threatens his life. It is a moving story of a young boy’s passion for life, a family’s love, the perils of modern medicine, and the redemptive power of art in the face of the unthinkable.

NONFICTION PAPERBACK THE DAY WALL STREET EXPLODED by Beverly Gage. A bomb killed 39 people and wounded a hundred more on September 16, 1920. This is a brisk, richly documented account of the most neglected terrorist attack in American history. Perhaps the reason for this is, as Gage notes, many social historians find it difficult to acknowledge that some revolutionaries mean exactly what they say. THE FORSAKEN by Tim Tzouliadis. History should speak for real victims like the 2,500 ordinary American who were murdered or disappeared into Joseph Stalin’s Gulag. This book will knock your socks off. The depth of the Roosevelt administration’s complicity is appalling.

CHILDREN & YOUNG ADULT LOOKING AT LINCOLN by Maria Kalman. Loaded with interesting facts about Abraham Lincoln, this beautifully illustrated picture book presents young historians with interesting facts about a fascinating man: Abraham Lincoln went to school for only one year; He was once kicked in the head by a mule after which

BOOKSHELF

The best moments LAST FOREVER

he slept for two days; His wife Mary was extremely short; He always had an apple on his desk; His dog was named Fido; He met with both Sojourner Truth and Frederick Douglass during his fight to end slavery. WORDS SET ME FREE: THE STORY OF YOUNG FREDERICK DOUGLASS by Lesa Cline-Ransome. Son of a slave and a father he never knew, Frederick was raised by his grandmother after his mother was sold when he was still an infant. However, the fates turned in Frederick’s favor when he was sold as an eight-year-old and placed in the care of Sophia Auld, who taught him to read, therefore providing a pathway ultimately leading Douglass to become one of the first leaders of the antislavery movement. Illustrated by the award-winning James Ransome, this gorgeous book is a wonderful introduction to Douglass for young readers.

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ONE COOL FRIEND by Tony Buzzeo. “May I please have a penguin?” asked a very proper Elliot during a family visit to the aquarium. “Sure” answered his father, assuming he was surely speaking of a stuffed penguin. What follows is a hilarious, fishy, freezing frolic into the world of penguin ownership followed by a fantastic surprise ending. THE FAULT IN OUR STARS by John Green. Riveting from the start, award-winning Greene’s newest novel is a teen love story with an unusual twist, the young couple meet in a cancer support group for teens. Funny, sad, poignant, thought-provoking and ultimately unforgettable, this novel is one of the most highly anticipated titles of 2012. PS

The Carolina Hotel • Village of Pinehurst • 910. 235.8474 • pinehurst.com

GEORGE: GEORGE WASHINGTON, OUR FOUNDING FATHER by Frank Keating. The young Washington, tall and strong, always a scholar, leader at an early age also chose to record 110 “Rules of Civility” which served as his rules to live by. This simple biography of Washington provides a brief overview of his life and career, illustrated with carefully researched full-page oil paintings of Washington, and selected quotes from his Rules of Civility. George is the second title in the “Mount Rushmore” history series from former Oklahoma Governor Keating.

1/9/12 10:14 AM

February 2012 P�� PineStraw : The Art & Soul of the Sandhills

YOGA...”Loose the Handles ...not the LOVE!” Hot Asana Yoga Studios and Boutiques... in Southern Pines above Sunrise Theater and in Pinehurst behind Lowes Foods. visit us at www.hotasanastudio.com or call 910.691.2682 PineStraw : The Art & Soul of the Sandhills P P P P P P P P P P P P P P P P P P P P P P P P P P P P P P P P P P P P P P P P P P P P P P P P P P P P P P P P P P P P P P P P P P P P P P P P P P P P P February 2012

HITTING HOME

Warm Feet

For Poppie and Mom, romance was a shared Hershey bar and flowers from the garden

By Dale Nixon

February is here and my

thoughts turn to romance, and when I think of romance, I think of my grandparents, who are now deceased. Not that their story is particularly exciting. My grandfather didn’t slay dragons, fight a duel or throw diamonds at my grandmother’s feet when they were courting or to win and keep her hand in marriage. He simply told her that he loved her, asked her to marry him, and promised to spend the rest of his life with her. She accepted and offered the same in return. This arrangement worked for them for 67 years. During all that time, I’m not sure if theirs had ever been the kind of romance we read about in novels or see in the movies. For them, a fancy box of chocolates was a shared Hershey bar. A fine dinner was vegetables picked from the garden. Entertainment was fishing from a creek bank. Flowers came from their own yard, not the florist. Their jewels were small gold bands worn on two left hands. Words of endearment? She called him “Poppie,” and he called her “Mom.” He worked in a textile mill. She raised their three children. When he retired and the children were grown, they farmed all summer and quilted all winter. My grandmother would work in the garden alongside my grandfather. They’d put on wide-brimmed straw hats, roll up their

britches legs and go to work. In the winter, he helped her with her quilting. He would sit all day in one position and thread needles for her as she pieced her work together. She was proud of his garden. He was proud of her quilts. She didn’t belong to a bridge or garden club. He didn’t belong to a service organization. They belonged to each other. When my grandfather had a stroke and was hospitalized, my grandmother’s main concern was that they would be separated and wouldn’t be able to stay together. She did a lot of praying, hand-wringing and crying. Determined to get back to “Mom,” my grandfather’s health improved, and while I was visiting him in the hospital, the doctor came in to say he was going to let him go. My grandfather’s eyes filled with tears, and he said, “Where am I going?” “The doctors are going to let you go home.” My grandfather’s chin was quivering as he said, “Home? Home to Mom?” I patted him on the shoulder and said, “Home to Mom.” My grandfather said quietly, “Good. I can keep my feet warm at night on Mom.” I was so overcome with emotion that I quietly backed out of the room. As I leaned against the wall in the hospital corridor, I knew: Romance isn’t excitement, flowers, candy or candlelight dinners. Romance is a pair of warm feet. PS Columnist Dale Nixon resides in Concord but enjoys a slice of heaven (disguised as a condominium) in the village of Pinehurst. You may contact her by email at dalenixon@ carolina.rr.com.

PineStraw : The Art & Soul of the Sandhills . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

February 2012

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February 2012 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . PineStraw : The Art & Soul of the Sandhills

P S T R AV E L E R

Love On The Border Pedro sez: You never sausage a place!

By Tom Allen

Twenty-five miles

outside of Southern Pines, headed south on U.S. 15-501, we were greeted by a neon-painted billboard flanked by a smiling Mexican mascot. Enthusiastically, I read the sign — “Fun City, 29 Miles.” My wife, Beverly, gave a quick smile and shook her head, never looking up from the scarf she was knitting and not quite believing she’d said “yes” to this overnight stay and PineStraw assignment. In about half an hour, we’d be at our destination — South of the Border, South Carolina’s Mexican-themed tourist complex and one of America’s iconic roadside attractions, a zany blend of commerce and kitsch whose weather forecast is always “chili today, hot tamale!” The story behind South of the Border is as fascinating as the place itself. The mastermind behind the attraction, as well as its iconic billboards, was Alan Schafer. Schafer’s grandfather, Abraham, like scores of European Jews, emigrated from Germany in the late nineteenth century, seeking freedom from persecution and a better way of life. Abraham’s story played out like that of many Jews who crossed the Mason-Dixon Line during the decades that followed — he made his way south, settled in the rural hamlet of Little Rock, South Carolina, and established a successful mercantile business. Hard work, coupled with generosity, endeared the family to the rural folks they served, both black and white. By the time Alan’s father, Samuel, was born in 1888, the nearby town of Dillon was a thriving railroad community. A few decades later, after falling on hard times during the Great Depression, Dillon and the surrounding area experienced some economic hope with the construction of Highway 301. To tap the market opened by the highway, Alan Schafer set up a small beer depot in Hamer, just inside the South Carolina line, aptly naming it South of the Border. A diner was added later, as were souvenir shops selling Mexican-themed items. In the 1950s, long before the advent of discount cruises and cheap vacation packages, Mexico was an exotic, intriguing locale. Schafer capitalized on that mystique, establishing import connections to fill the shelves of the Border’s souvenir shops. On one of his trips, the story goes, he met two brothers, Raphael

and Juan. Schaffer helped the young men get admitted to the United States, then hired them as bicycle-pedaling bellboys at the motor inn he’d added to the complex. Patrons started calling them Pedro and Pancho. Pedro stuck and South of the Border’s mustached mascot was born. Schafer continued building his roadside attraction, adding Pedroland — an amusement park with an assortment of kiddie rides, two miniature golf courses, a fireworks shop, video game arcade, and several more restaurants, one in the shape of a sombrero. Years later Camp Pedro, a 100 full hook-up site campground, popular with snowbirds and the RV crowd, was added. By the time we crossed the border and were greeted by the attraction’s colorful concrete animals, Beverly and I were ready for some of Pedro’s grub. With five restaurants on site, there’s something for every appetite. While a taco from The Hot Tamale seemed appropriate, Pedro’s Diner won out with a couple of tasty burgers with fries that cost just over ten dollars. We’d have stayed under that price if I hadn’t ordered an ice cold bottle of Blenheim Ginger Ale, South Carolina’s legendary beverage, first bottled back in 1903. I had my first taste of Blenheim, iced down in a tin wash tub, at a crawfish festival in Lake City, South Carolina, during college days. Alan Schafer was a big fan of the Palmetto state’s only native soft drink, owing his longevity to a daily bottle of Blenheim’s hot and spicy Old #3, so in 1993 he bought the company and eventually moved Blenheim’s production facility to South of the Border, where it’s still bottled and distributed. After our late lunch, we checked into the South of the Border Motor Inn, the 300 room motel built in the 1950s. During the 1970s and 80s, South of the Border became a legendary honeymoon destination with its $99 Honeymoon Special — a wedding ceremony, bottle of champagne, breakfast at Pedro’s Diner, and a one-night stay in the honeymoon suite — a room with red shag carpet and waterbed, complete with mirrors built into the bed’s sombrero-shaped canopy. Several years ago the honeymoon suites were converted into any-occasion suites, with spacious bathrooms, a separate sitting area, big screen televisions, and rooms with either a king or two queen-sized beds. “Deluxe rooms” have two double beds and are located near the Pleasure Dome, a space-age looking structure that covers an indoor heated pool and sauna. Historians of roadside American culture point to a time when roadside motels were characterized by an unsavory reputation, but if you head for the Border, leave that thought as well as the Lysol at home. Our king-size suite was clean and well-kept, with furnishings reminiscent of a 1980’s beach motel. Updates included a fresh coat of paint, new carpet, and a Jacuzzi big enough for a family reunion. There was a separate shower and a water closet with, of all things, a bidet. Who’d have thought it? A bidet at South of the Border. After unloading the car, I headed to South of the Border’s latest attraction,

PineStraw : The Art & Soul of the Sandhills . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

February 2012

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February 2012 P�� PineStraw : The Art & Soul of the Sandhills

P S T R AV E L E R

Reptile Lagoon, billed as “the largest indoor reptile exhibit in the U.S.” Beverly opted to watch a rerun of Criminal Minds and continue knitting her scarf. For eight bucks, I followed an indoor trail that wound past alligators and turtles alongside an assortment of creepy crawlies that included an African Black Mamba, a horned South American Mata Mata turtle, and Daisy, a rare albino Burmese python. “Guess what you passed up for Criminal Minds,” I announced when I returned to our room. Dinner that evening was at the Peddler Steakhouse, a favorite with locals and South of the Border’s answer to Beefeater’s and LobSteer. While our off-season stay was otherwise free from crowds and long lines, the Peddler was packed. The service was good, the food was great, the prices were reason-

able, and all enjoyed under the roof of a building shaped like a huge sombrero. Every motel room at the Border comes with a covered carport, a vestige from the 1950s but a welcomed perk the next morning when we were loading the car in pouring rain and headed to breakfast. A continental breakfast was included with our stay, and was pretty simple fare, enjoyed at the Sombrero Restaurant, a family-style eatery where, for a small donation to the Shriner’s Children’s Hospitals, one of Schafer’s favorite charities, the good folks at South of the Border will match your donation and hang an orange sombrero bearing your name on its walls. No visit to South of the Border is complete without a stroll through its gift shops. Pedro’s shops are packed with all things Mexican, and then some, from sombreros to serapes, and every store has traditional roadside souvenir items like T-shirts, magnets, and shot glasses. There’s saltwater taffy, funky hats, costume jewelry and even a few risqué items, like toilet paper inscribed for someone you really don’t like. One shop boasts a quirky blend of African, Asian, and Mexican items. You’ll find a leather store, an antique shop, and a Myrtle Beach store for beachcombers coming or going to the Grand Strand. For pocket change you can pick up several South of the Border bumper stickers. Blenheim Ginger Ale is a gift shop staple, and for ten bucks, you can buy a bagful of cheap toys that can keep a kid occupied all the way to Orlando. If you visit the Mexico Shop East, don’t miss the chance to talk with Evelyn, Alan Schafer’s

perky octogenarian sister, a delightful gal who’s a library of information about the Border as well as a shrewd saleslady — she talked me into buying a case of Blenheim instead of a carton. Our romantic getaway to another time and South of the Border ended with a two-dollar elevator ride to the top of the Sombrero Tower, a scoop from Pedro’s Ice Cream Fiesta, some fireworks for our kids from Rocket City, and a couple of tacos from the Hot Tamale. Fortunately, neither of us forgot to pack our toothbrushes or had a late-night craving for a Snickers bar, but if we had, El Drug Store or one of two Pantry stores were within walking distance from our motel room, as are all of the Border’s attractions. To be clear, South of the Border isn’t what it used to be, but there are signs of a glorious roadside comeback. Those 250 billboards that once stretched from Philadelphia to Daytona Beach are about half that number now and found only in North and South Carolina. The upkeep was simply too expensive. Alan Schafer’s son, Richard, a likeable chap with a slow, Southern drawl and director of the company that owns South of the Border, explained that the motel, along with most of the complex’s buildings, have undergone a series of renovations over the past several years. The spruce-up is obvious. Better yet, South of the Border is staffed by some of the friendliest folks you’ll ever meet. It’s clean, safe, and fun, a wacky but affordable get-away for a couple or a family with kids, if only for a few hours. Gone are the video gaming parlors of the 90s. The Border is as family-friendly as ever, with lots of folks who grew up stopping on their way south, now dropping by with their kids or grandkids. Alan Schafer died in 2001, but his legacy is as big as the 100-foot tall Pedro that welcomes you as you drive through on Highway 301. That legacy is one of compassion as well as commerce. Schafer was an astute businessman and powerful politician who capitalized on the postwar growth of interstate highway commerce as well as the mystique of Mexico. But Schafer and South of the Border also provided hundreds of jobs to Dillon County residents, with some employees clocking in with over thirty years of service. Schafer donated money to build schools, churches, and a hospital, and from the time South of the Border opened, he refused to segregate the roadside attraction’s motel rooms, restaurants and bathrooms, a decision that, according to Richard, led the Ku Klux Klan to protest at South of the Border on more than one occasion. At the end of the day, we found South of the Border a place to slip away for a romantic interlude in an America that vanishes a little more every year. And when you visit, I think you’ll agree with Pedro’s famous words, posted on one of Schafer’s iconic billboards — You Never Sausage a Place! PS

The traditional Cornish Pasty consists of seasoned beef, potato, onion, and rutabaga ensconced in golden buttery pastry. A complete meal that may be carried easily and eaten without cutlery, the Cornish Pasty makes an absolutely ideal lunch. In celebration of the National Dish of Cornwall, each Wednesday in February The Sly Fox is featuring Cornish Pasties for lunch! We’re excited to be presenting a savory, flavorful, and perfectfor-lunch true English classic all month long at The Fox!

Tom Allen is minister of education at First Baptist Church, Southern Pines.

PineStraw : The Art & Soul of the Sandhills . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . February 2012

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February 2012 P�� PineStraw : The Art & Soul of the Sandhills

VINE WISDOM

The Lure of the Vine The scent of love in a glass

By Robyn James

If you want your Valentine’s Day celebration with your sweetie to end happily, don’t forget the wine.

In case you haven’t noticed, every segment of The Bachelor and The Bachelorette, as well as any commercial advertising romantic vacations or encounters, always show the participants imbibing not beer, soft drinks or liquor, but always wine. The elixir of Bacchus has long been considered the liquid leading to sensual pleasure. Popular thinking associates the loss of inhibition brought on by all forms of alcohol with wild, Bacchanalian revelry. But there just might be more to the powers of wine than simple, alcoholic stimulation. There is a great historical and scientific reasoning that confirms wine is a proven aphrodisiac. Oh yeah, there are specific aphrodisiac powers of fermented grape juice that are directly responsible for igniting the fires of passion. Just in time for Valentine’s Day, the word is out: Many of those aromas so prized in our favorite wine varietals emulate the scents of sex. According to the research of Australian winemaker and former surgeon Max Lake, the scents of certain wines replicate the smells of human pheromones, those body scents said to excite sexual instinct. Lake also asserts that the heady, yeasty aromas of champagne combine a touch of masculinity and a dose of feminine wiles. If his hypothesis is true, sparkling wine is the perfect tonic for the traditional wedding night toast. The scents used to describe many red wines — leather, sweat, spice, musk — are nearly identical to those associated with the primary male hormone, androstenone. Apparently, this hormone also smells a great deal like the scent new oak imparts on fermenting grape juice. Perhaps this is an explanation for the ever rising popularity of full bodied, oak enhanced red wines. If you want to put wine’s sensual promise into practice, you’re most likely to awaken the senses with wines generous in aroma. Keep a lookout for oak fermented chardonnay, musky shiraz, full-bodied cabernet sauvignons and earthy Bordeaux blends. Certainly to say red wine signifies an attraction to men and champagne brings about a desire for a woman is over-simplification, but wine has been scientifically measured to unleash a cascade of hor-

mones, a number of them sexual. Alcohol can relieve shyness, unwanted inhibitions and create expression. But do all types of alcohol deliver the same effect or is one better than the other? Wine wins again. Beer can create a bloating sensation, and liquor is so much higher in alcohol, a sedative effect is almost always guaranteed. Wine definitely will raise the testosterone level in women, increasing desire; however, moderation is the key here since after half a bottle those gains are lost by sedative effects. Port wine, both red and white, is said to be one of the most aphrodisiac alcoholic beverages around — especially when served with strawberries. Here are some of my recommendations for a successful V-day event: “J” Vineyards Brut Rosé, Russian River Pretty copper color, has powerful aromas of strawberries. This full-bodied bubbly has deep flavors of strawberries, vanilla, white pepper and toast. The fruit is ripe, yet the body is elegant. Rated 91 Points, Editor’s Choice, The Wine Enthusiast. $24.99 Bernardus Chardonnay, Monterey Bold, rich and layered, with a medley of smoky fig, toasty oak, hazelnut and roasted marshmallow flavors that are pure, focused, intense and concentrated, with a long persistent finish. Rated 92 Points, A Smart Buy, The Wine Spectator. $23.99 Chateau Lanessan Haut Medoc, Bordeaux, France, 2008 A wine to search out for value as well as essentially classified growth quality, this sleeper of the vintage offers copious quantities of creme de cassis, new saddle leather, and spice box aromas, a medium to fullbodied, concentrated style, ripe tannin, and good freshness and purity. Drink it over the next 15+ years. Rated 90 Points, Robert Parker, The Wine Advocate. $25.99 PS Robyn James is proprietor of The Wine Cellar and Tasting Room in Southern Pines. Contact her at winecellar@pinehurst.net.

PineStraw : The Art & Soul of the Sandhills . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

February 2012

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February 2012 P�� PineStraw : The Art & Soul of the Sandhills

* Limit one appetizer per table.

SPIRITS

A Healthy Bouquet A wry twist on the classic gimlet

By Frank Daniels III

Bartenders spend

a lot of time whipping up fancy cocktail menus to entice us to try new liqueurs and spend a bit more money. It is generally a treat to taste what they have invented, but most of what they concoct is not replicable at home (these cocktails should come with a warning label: “Professionals only at a supervised bar, do NOT try at home!”).

Which is one reason why I tend to stick with classic cocktails and invest my effort in finding artisanal ingredients that add a twist, and fun, to the generally simpler drinks. And if you think about the cocktails you order, or make time and again, they are variations of each other using either dry or sweet vermouth, lime juice or lemon juice. The daiquiri, margarita and gimlet are perfect examples: a spirit (rum, tequila and gin,) lime juice, and a sweetener (sugar, triple sec, and sugar). The basic recipe is so good, tart and sweet, with a nice smooth kick, that it supports experimentation, giving the amateur mixologist the foundation to sparkle. Most recently I was experimenting with the gimlet, a classic cocktail that is generally abused by the use of Rose’s Lime Juice. I love the story of Rose’s, a method developed by Scotsman Lachlan Rose to preserve lime juice that quickly became a commercial hit because of the British Navy requirement for a daily ration of lime juice to ward off the impact of scurvy (the lack of vitamin C in your diet). But the processed lime juice and extra sugar in Rose’s makes for a sorry gimlet, which is best made with fresh squeezed lime juice and a bit of simple syrup. And with the modern market, we can have fresh lime juice all year round to ward off scurvy instead of worrying about

keeping preserved limejuice on the bar. As with the daiquiri or the margarita, the gimlet lends itself to substitutes for the sweetener in the cocktail. Recent experimentation resulted in a fun, floral and very feminine version of the gimlet that has become a hit. St. Germain elderflower liqueur turned out to be an excellent addition to the gimlet, amplifying the botanical notes of the crisp gin with its floral bouquet, and making the cocktail a bit sweeter than the original. Adding to the popularity was serving it in a variety of cocktail glasses that we have picked up at the local consignment store. Keeping with the scurvy theme, I like to use Plymouth Gin from the famous English port city. In this cocktail its more subdued botanicals are a bonus. I don’t usually shake gin, but I like the frothy nature of this cocktail when shaken instead of stirred. Enjoy.

Gimlet d’Fleur

2 oz Gin (Plymouth) 1 oz Fresh squeezed lime juice ½1/2 oz St. Germain elderflower liqueur Lime twist Chill your fancy cocktail glasses with ice and a bit of St. Germain (I like to use the ice from chilling the glasses in the cocktail shaker; just remember to pour off the water and St. Germain before mixing the drink). In an ice-filled cocktail shaker mix the gin, lime juice and St. Germain. Shake vigorously and strain into the chilled glasses. Garnish with a lime twist. PS Frank Daniels III is an editor and writer living in Nashville, Tenn. His cocktail book, Frank’s Little Black Bar Book, Wakestone Press, is available at The Country Bookshop. fdanielsiii@mac.com.

PineStraw : The Art & Soul of the Sandhills . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

February 2012

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February 2012 P�� PineStraw : The Art & Soul of the Sandhills

THE KITCHEN GARDEN

Cardoons

A thistle by any other name

By Jan Leitschuh

Initially,

I knew little about cardoons. Nor was I alone.

“Cardoon?” queried Jim Dodson, PineStraw editor, upon hearing the proposal for this month’s column. “What in the world is a cardoon?” Well, it’s a thistle. Kind of. A big one. “Cardoon. Huh.” And you can eat it. The stalk. “Cardoon.” Yes. Cardoon. Rhymes with Brigadoon. It’s a Mediterranean vegetable, and it grows here. In fact, there are some growing in pots on Broad Street right now, although there’s no telling if they will stand up to mid-teen winter weather. It has stalks like celery, spines like a thistle and supposedly tastes like an artichoke heart. That is to say, tasty. Looks kind of gray-green and grows palm-like. “OK. Cardoon...” You see, after receiving some seeds from a friend in Charlotte (seed catalogs also have them), I hit the books to research this mystery vegetable. It’s not likely you’ll find cardoons at your grocery store. Probably not even at local farm stands or farmers markets, with the exception, perhaps, of some of the more innovative small growers. Yet they well grow here. You can grow them easily at home. And, with a little temperature luck, we even might see them fountaining up in a few planters along the sidewalks of downtown Southern Pines. Cardoons were classing up the place in December and part of January, then took a hit in the harsh 16 degree cold. Only time will tell if this “new” plant will stand up to a Sandhills winter, or prefers the spring. According to Pete Morris , a supervisor with the Southern Pines Building and Grounds crew, in planting cardoons in some of the town’s planters “we were just trying to be a little creative. (Colleague) Jeff Grey came up with the idea. They’re just really trying it out as a winter annual.” It’s been said that the three elements of a successful planter design are the “thriller” (that striking, eye-catching vertical element), the “spiller” (the stuff that drapes over the lip of the pot and softens the look) and “filler” (the middle-ground elements). “I guess the cardoon would be our thriller,” said Pete. “The only downside is that it’s a spiny-type plant. We’ve been encouraged by the appearance.” Ah yes, the spines. When I examined the Southern Pines cardoons closely, I saw that a pair of small spines bristled at the base of each leaf where it emerged from the stalk. The domesticated cardoon looks much like the wilder thistle, only with fewer spines and a wider celery-like stalk. Friendlier.

After all, it was domesticated in ancient times. There are even said to be varieties without any spines at all. The globe artichoke is a close cousin. Always up for a vegetable adventure, the way I see it, cardoons have three things going for them, spines aside: 1) They are a tough, easy-to-grow plant — ridiculously so. After all, at heart they are thistles, 2). They are supposed to taste like artichoke hearts, 3) like artichoke hearts, for Pete’s sake! How to grow them? Come on! It’s a thistle. You need to know how not to grow them — cut the seed-heads off of any you don’t harvest, so they don’t reseed. They strike me as having the potential to be invasive without this simple step; thistle seeds can float for miles on the wind. However, Marta, my cardoon-growing friend in Charlotte, simply lets her cardoons seed themselves each year in a small border she shares with a neighbor. It makes a fine and dramatic summer bed, makes a thistle-like purple flower and, she adds, the seedheads are striking and beautiful. The stalks are said to be best harvested in the fall, winter and the spring, usually right before the plant flowers; they are supposedly not tasty in hot weather. Cut stalks below the crown and trim leaves; wear gloves. While still considered an exotic here — although perhaps not for long, judging from Internet blogs — those from Italy or Spain prize the cardoni or cardone. Cardoons are still popular in Northern Africa as well, and used in couscous. In the Mediterranean regions, it is also served steamed, fried, sautéed or tossed in a vinaigrette after the lemon-boiling treatment. Google also informs that it can be baked with olive oil and cheese in a gratin, in a bechamel sauce, with the garlicky-anchovy fondue-type sauce bagna cauda — all this, and more. But this isn’t just a Mediterranean thing. Cardoons grew in Colonial gardens, apparently, and only fell out of favor in the late 19th century. Cardoons also have the ability to curdle milk, and serve as a vegetarian source of rennet for cheesemaking. Portuguese cheeses are said to bear the sensory hallmarks of this traditional process. According to one cardoon enthusiast, the vegetable does take some work to prepare. You need to trim the spines, peel the stalks’ fibers and boil them for thirty minutes in water with a bit of lemon juice first — not the kind of veggie one munches spontaneously right in the garden. Another method suggests soaking the trimmed chunks in salted water for an hour or so to soften a slightly bitter aftertaste. Some sources suggest the bitterness can be avoided by blanching the stalks as they approach harvest — wrapping the leaves around the stem (some say wrap with straw, burlap, paper or black plastic) and tying them up for three weeks.

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February 2012

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THE KITCHEN GARDEN

While the stems resemble celery with pairs of spines marching down the stalks, it is said that the stalks are not crisp like celery. The instructions I found direct the aspiring cardoon eater to trim the ends and the strings from the big stalks as you would celery. Remove any small leaves and rinse under cold water. Slice crosswise into 1-2 inch chunks, then simmer in water or vegetable stock; they can also be microwaved. It’s done when it’s fork-tender. Dress and eat, or proceed to the more traditional dredging in chickpea flour and salt and frying in olive oil. I’ve never tried cardoons myself, but there’s always a first time. And when I do, this recipe from the blog “Hunter Angler Gardener Cook” by Hank Shaw will be the one I begin with:

Honeyed Cardoons with pine nuts and thyme “It works well — so well it is one of those I-can’t-stop-eating-it dishes. Really, really tasty. Make sure to use fresh thyme, good honey and to cook the cardoons enough, as they can be fibrous if undercooked.” Prep Time: 10 minutes Cook Time: 45 minutes 1 medium onion 1/2 pound cardoons 2 tablespoons olive oil 2 tablespoons dry sherry 2 tablespoons honey 1 tablespoon fresh thyme 1/4 cup toasted pine nuts Salt and black pepper Trim the cardoons and boil them for 30-40 minutes in salty water with the juice of a lemon thrown in. This can be done up to a day ahead. Slice the cardoons into 1/2 inch pieces. Slice the onion into half-moons. Toast the pine nuts — watch them, as pine nuts go from toasted to burnt in a heartbeat. Heat the olive oil in a large sauté pan over medium-high heat. Sauté the onions with some salt until just beginning to brown on the edges. Add in the cardoons and stir to combine. Let this cook for a minute or two. Add the dry sherry. If you don’t have dry sherry, use a dry white wine. Turn the heat up to high and boil it furiously. Add the honey and stir to combine. Add the pine nuts. Let this boil down to a glaze. Turn off the heat and toss in the thyme and add some fresh ground black pepper. Toss well to combine and serve at once. PS Jan Leitschuh is a local gardener, avid eater of fresh produce and co-founder of the Sandhills Farm to Table Cooperative.

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February 2012

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February 2012 P�� PineStraw : The Art & Soul of the Sandhills

OUT OF THE BLUE

The Crush A Love Story: Act I

By Deborah Salomon

First love, for girls at least, starts

with a crush. Crushes include squeals, giggles, denials and innocent daydreams. In a kinder, gentler era when America feared only Commies and the atom bomb, preteen girls had crushes on movie stars.

The crush protocol was strict. Your dreamboat could not be the same one as a best friend’s. He had to make enough movies (preferably musicals and romantic comedies) to generate Life magazine covers and blurbs in Photoplay and Modern Screen, the latter purchased by somebody’s older sister and hidden under the bed. While boys were still trading baseball cards, girls cut pictures from these magazines and pasted them in scrapbooks with self-aggrandizing captions: “There’s Tab Hunter escorting Deb to the awards banquet!” My situation made adherence to this protocol difficult. I came from a motley background, lived in a New York City apartment, had no older sister, attended a progressive girls’ school with small classes, an enriched curriculum and zero tolerance for pop culture. We were afforded not only the three Rs but field trips to films (never movies), museums, ballet, children’s theater and the opera. Before TV, for a fifth-grader the pageantry of Aida trumped any Lion King. What inspired our teacher to select Laurence Olivier’s 1948 Academy Awardwinning Hamlet I’ll never know. The ghost scene scared the bejeezus out of one classmate, but I was enthralled, smitten, head-over-heels. Sir Laurence was gorgeous, elegant, eloquent, tragic. I listened carefully so as to follow the story. If only I could make him forget Ophelia I would gladly sew buttons on his doublet and hand-wash his tights. Then came Henry V, where I saw my idol’s high cheekbones and rouged mouth in Technicolor. In lieu of button-sewing, I dragged The Complete Works of William Shakespeare home from the library. I wanted to understand his pain, to feel closer. Secretly, I put together a Laurence Olivier scrapbook. I had a crush — a really bad one. Shakespeare reads hard the first couple of pages, but then it gets easier. By Act II, I was comfortable. So comfortable that after Hamlet’s demise I kept reading the easier plays, imagining him as the hero. After Olivier’s Heathcliff, I tackled Wuthering Heights. Then Daphne du Maurier’s Rebecca. When I learned that Olivier was married to Vivien Leigh, in a fit of jealousy I devoured Gone With the Wind — not exactly on the summer reading list for 11-year-olds. But why not? I didn’t have siblings to play with, and polio kept kids away from the swimming pools. By sixth grade we had moved south. In order not to appear a total weirdo I needed somebody mainstream, but after Olivier, Burt Lancaster, Kirk Douglas and Robert Mitchum lacked gravitas. Gregory Peck was a double whammy except my cousin claimed him first. Then one hot Saturday afternoon I sat through

The Great Caruso twice at the air-conditioned Imperial Theater. Its star — a musically unschooled Italian stallion from Philly with dark, flashing eyes, a curly pompadour and a heavenly voice — knocked me right out of the velvet seat. “Be My Love,” Mario Lanza sang. Gladly. Lanza stirred controversy in the music world. Stuffy old Metropolitan Operagoers considered him flashy, hyper-emotional. His acting was atrocious, his personal excesses even worse, which made for many, many movie-magazine stories. My scrapbook bulged. I bought all his records, mostly familiar arias. Before long, those matinees at the Met endured during fourth grade took on a new romanticism. I circumvented the language barrier by memorizing plots which were about as literate as a comic book. I listened to opera broadcasts pretending that Mario was the tenor and I, the doomed soprano. The lilting strains of Puccini and Verdi brought tears to my eyes. They still do. As you can imagine, I endured a lot of teasing, especially from Paul Newman, Monty Clift and Frank Sinatra crushees. I just wasn’t the Tony Curtis type. Eventually, I wised up, got off my high horse and went the cheerleader/sorority girl/James Dean route. But I saw every one of Olivier’s films and, eventually, witnessed his talent on stage. Nothing stopped me from despising Vivien Leigh until the day she died, although I take no issue with his third wife, the talented but very plain Joan Plowright. Mario Lanza self-destructed at an early age, to resurface decades later as a joke on The Sopranos. Olivier’s darker side was revealed after his death.(Danny Kaye’s lover? Winston Churchill’s secret agent? Be still, my heart.) Sixty years later, I’m still shivering at the Shakespearean cadence and lush arias. I shivered my way to an A in college English courses at Duke. Opera is a frequent category on Jeopardy! I guess my silly schoolgirl crushes panned out. Were I eleven or twelve today, my “it” man would be Daniel Day Lewis. I like the chisel of his face, the brooding eyes. Coincidentally, he will portray Abe Lincoln in an upcoming film. Back to the library. Which suggests crushes can be a good thing unless directed at Justin Bieber or Ryan Gosling. Those pale vampire guys pass if they lead tweens to Bram Stoker, Anne Rice and Lord Byron. Older gals might even Netflix To Kill a Mockingbird solely to drool over Gregory Peck’s counselor McDreamy. Crushes, puppy love — call it what you will. Just don’t deprive your little girls of this rite of passage because that very puppy might, as it did for me, grow into a melancholy but useful Great Dane. PS Deborah Salomon is a staff writer for PineStraw and can be reached at debsalomon@nc.rr.com.

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February 2012

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B I R D WA T C H

American Pipit

A small winter visitor from the North country

By Susan Campbell

Each winter there are dozens of bird

species that spend time here in the Sandhills that go overlooked. The American pipit is probably one of the most inconspicuous. It is a bird that one would have to go looking for and in precisely the right place. In addition, this little bird requires sharp eyes — and a good bit of patience. Pipits are an inconspicuous group of birds, very well camouflaged in the open habitats they inhabit. They are long-distance migrants found on all continents except Antarctica. The American pipit is without a doubt the northernmost breeder that spends the cooler months here in North Carolina. It is a wide-ranging species with subspecies found from Great Britain and Scandinavia as well as the high mountains of Europe and central Asia as well as North America. This brown and white striped little bird is about the size of a bluebird with longer legs and distinctive white outer tail feathers. Their name comes from the distinctive “pip-ititititit” call although their song is rapid and musical, both of which are made by the male. Females are far less likely to vocalize except to the male during the breeding season. The lack of calling and song certainly allows these birds to remain so well hidden here in the winter. American pipits can be found in large fields where they run around

after small insects. And since insects are more likely to be numerous after being exposed in newly plowed fields, they are the best place to look. The birds will congregate in flocks in the best habitat. That will then give the group better odds of detecting threats as they feed. More eyes can effectively keep a lookout for mainly avian predators such as maneuverable small falcons and fast-flying bird hawks. In our area, pipits can be found in the large agricultural fields in the northern and eastern parts of the county as well as in the fields along Hardee Lane here in Whispering Pines. Flocks are eye-catching in flight given their unique tail pattern as well as their distinctive “pip-it” calls. The birds will be even more noticeable should we have significant snow when they search out other dark-colored substrate that may produce small prey items. I have seen large numbers in the shallow spillway of Lake Surf at Woodlake. No doubt small insects can be found hatching there even on the coldest days of the year. The more problematic location where they may turn up is on the dark pavement of our roadways. That has occasionally been the case here, and it makes American pipits very vulnerable to collisions with automobiles even on our more rural roadways. So if you are looking for a real birdwatching challenge, head out with a good pair of binoculars, a local road map and a bit of patience. You may be rewarded with views of this neat little visitor from waaaaay up north! PS Susan would love to receive your wildlife sightings and photos. She can be contacted by email at susan@ncaves.com, by phone at (910) 949-3207 or by mail at 144 Pine Ridge Drive, Whispering Pines, NC 28327.

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February 2012

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THE SPORTING LIFE

TheIt’s View From the Roost time to make some new memories in 2012 By Tom Bryant

The hustle and bustle of the

holiday season was gone, leaving the rest of January 2012. I was up in the roost putting together a column for PineStraw, thinking about the past year and wondering what was to come in the next. The roost is what my bride Linda and I call the little apartment over the garage where I do most of my writing. There were a couple weeks left in duck season, and then it would be time to roll out another of my favorite times of year: February and March and fishing down at Everglades City and Chokoloskee Bay. Time flies when you’re having fun.

But I get ahead of myself. Today, in mid-January, was a time for reflection. Looking out the window over the “back forty,” as we call the area that faces James Creek, I was trying to remember how everything looked in the spring. I have a real problem with that, remembering details in the landscape from one season to another. So this year I’m going to pick an area in the woods, set up my camera, and take a photo from the same spot on the first day of each new season. Whenever I need a reminder of how the woods change, I’ll have it. As I stared out the roost window, I thought about 2011, a rough year for our country. A lot of our citizens were struggling to make a living. Things were tough. I had been retired from the work force for about five years but was fortunate to be able to stay in touch with my old career as a newspaper guy. The industry was changing drastically, but the folks where I used to hang my working hat were on top of it, thanks to knowledgeable, quick-reacting leadership. The outdoor world? For me, 2011 was an active year, from duck hunting during the month of January to camping in our little Airstream Bambi down in the southern tip of Florida in February and March. Florida is not one of my favorite places, although I have a long history there. My grandfather had some property right on the St. Johns River; and as a kid, I spent a lot of time with him fishing that world-renowned bassproducing river. Today, though, the St. Johns has turned into more of a water highway for big pleasure craft cruising up and down from Jacksonville to Deland. The big bass that I used to watch school like blue fish are long gone.

When civilization began encroaching more and more on even that remote part of Florida, my grandfather moved farther south to a little fishing lodge on Halfway Creek right outside of Everglades City. I was fortunate then to be able to fish with him on Chokoloskee Bay and the Ten Thousand Islands. That was years ago, and I had not been back in the area until recently, when Linda and I decided to visit Key West. On the way down, we took a side trip to the little town, and I was pleasantly surprised to see that it was basically the same as when I visited Granddaddy there in the mid-fifties. In 2011, we spent a couple of weeks there camping in the Airstream and fishing the bay. We hope to do it again this year. With the exception of out of the way places like the Everglades, Florida has turned into a haven for winter-ravaged Northerners looking for some warmth. I hope Chokoloskee stays off their radar. 2011 will probably go down as a year of transition. Our country seems to be moving faster and faster to more electronics and computers. The youngsters I’m acquainted with spend a great amount of time playing computer games. I often wonder how this is going to affect outdoor sports. Television has already taken time away from too many kids’ enjoyment of just playing outdoors. These computer games are yet another distraction. 2011 was also a year when I suffered another birthday with a zero in it. Time marches faster and faster when you get to my age; and like Calvin and Hobbs, my mantra of late seems to be “Go faster. We’re having fun but not enough fun!” Which brings up the last two weeks of duck season. Unfortunately, January 2012 ushered in some warm weather that did nothing for duck hunting. Our impoundments at Mattamuskeet have been seriously lacking in waterfowl in any numbers. Next week is predicted to be the coldest of the year with weather moving out of the northwest. Maybe that will help. As I’m writing this a bright red cardinal has landed in the dogwood right next to my window. For a minute I didn’t know who was observing whom. It was a stare-off. He would hop from branch to branch, never taking his eyes off me. Then he seemed to say “nothing interesting in there” and flew down to the ground to do some browsing. The bird reminded me of a summer afternoon when I was taking a break from some yard work, resting in a chair on our side deck. I was leaning back thinking about fishing when I saw a small dot high in the afternoon sky. As I watched, it fluttered aimlessly, softly buffeted by warm breezes. I soon determined it was a butterfly as it drifted slowly toward the area where I was sitting. I sat very still and the butterfly, a big Monarch, flew down and landed on my knee. It sat there for about thirty seconds, wings moving back and forth. I scarcely breathed, mesmerized as the beautiful black and yellow butterfly walked around on my knee, then flew back into the afternoon sky and disappeared. It was no more than a few minutes of my life, but it was an event I’ll never forget. OK, Bryant, I thought to myself. Enough musing. We have a brand new year just waiting for you to do something. You can start by packing your duck hunting gear, calling the guys and checking on who’s hunting this week. Do like your mama always told you, “Go on out there and create some memories.” As I got up to head downstairs the cardinal flew back in the dogwood tree and looked in the window. PS Tom Bryant, a Southern Pines resident, is a lifelong outdoorsman and PineStraw’s Sporting Life columnist.

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February 2012

February 2012 P�� PineStraw : The Art & Soul of the Sandhills

G O L F T OW N J O U R NA L

The Wild Brown Yonder

The greening of golf is history. Time to let nature call the shots

By Lee Pace

The best golfing grasses vary in color. They may

be red, brown, blue, dark green, light green, yellow, and at times even white and gray. A golf course that is consisted entirely of one shade of green would be merely ugly. There is great charm and beauty in the varying shades of color on a golf course. — Alister MacKenzie Jim Hyler stood in a Carolina Hotel ballroom before hundreds of people making their vocations and avocations in the great game of golf in early February 2010. The retired Raleigh banker had just been introduced as the new president of the United States Golf Association, and Hyler in his president’s address touched on a significant initiative facing golf. “We must re-set the way that we look at golf courses,” Hyler said. “As we have for the U.S. Open, I believe that our definition of playability should include concepts of firm, fast, and yes, even brown, and allow the running game to flourish. We need to understand how brown can become the new green.” Firm, fast and brown, less water and fewer chemicals.

As in the opposite of soft, puffy and verdant, over-watered and richly fertilized. Much has changed in the practices and expectations for golf course maintenance in the three-quarters of a century since Alister MacKenzie, Donald Ross, A.W. Tillinghast and Charles Blair Macdonald were at the vanguard of the “Golden Age of Golf Design.” Scientists have developed better grasses and more effective fertilizers. Machinists have created more precise grooming tools. And a certain golf course in Augusta, Ga., and its very public display over one weekend each April has elevated the tastes and standards that golfers, green committee chairmen and golf course owners demand in their courses. “I call it ‘the Augusta syndrome,’” noted competitor and architect Tom Weiskopf. “Millions of people look at that perfectly manicured golf course every year when the Masters comes on TV. Or a group of guys from a club gets tickets and walk around the course, and the club president says to the green committee chairman or the superintendent, ‘Now this is what I’ve been talking about …’ “But very few clubs are like Augusta — a not-for-profit organization that has extreme amounts of money available to take care of the whims of the membership. The scoring system, the way they treat the patrons — all of that is phenomenal. But emerald green is not the way it was at the turn of the century. After greens and tees, there was a single row of irrigation down the center of the fairway. You had limited acreage of irrigated turf.” Golf architect Bill Coore remembers his tenure at Rockport Country Club in Corpus Christi, Texas, in the early 1980s (he designed the course

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February 2012

G O L F T OW N J O U R NA L

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and remained as course superintendent for two years) and one instance when PGA Tour officials came to town to mark the course for an upcoming Tour Qualifying School. The tour staff had just been to Muirfield Village, Jack Nicklaus’s opulent club in his hometown of Columbus, Ohio, to mark the course for the Memorial Tournament on the PGA Tour. “They talked about how they didn’t use one single spot of white paint on eighteen holes at Muirfield,” Coore says. “They did mark a few little spots at the end of cart paths. Nicklaus immediately had the maintenance guys come out and re-sod those spots so there would be no white paint anywhere. That struck me. I thought, ‘That’s just not right.’ You’re trying to make every square inch of a golf course perfect.” This greening of golf manifested itself in our own backyard in the last quarter century on the hallowed acres of Pinehurst No. 2, a course that in its competitive heyday of the mid 1900s offered a rich array of creams, golds, browns and yellows to complement the green fairways. Over time, nearly all of the native sandy roughs were covered with lush Bermuda grass and the course was watered from some 1,100 sprinkler heads. Architect Tom Doak fell in love with No. 2 when he first visited it in the 1970s and cited the greens complexes and width that allowed for strategic shot options as hallmarks in his early development in golf design. He visited Pinehurst around the time of the 2005 U.S. Open and was dismayed at the uniformity of the bountiful green appearance. “They were narrowing it up for major championships and getting the grass to grow nice and thick,” Doak says. “All the texture and angles were gone. That’s what made the golf course — all the subtleties.” On the very weekend in February 2010 that Hyler addressed the USGA’s annual meeting in Pinehurst, plans were being finalized to retain architects Coore and Ben Crenshaw to shepherd a restoration of No. 2, removing some 40 acres of grass and more than 600 sprinkler heads and returning the course to its more natural, roughhewn look. The result has been roundly applauded by the world of golf — competitors, architects, writers, resort guests and members, and is one of a handful of dominoes bearing Hyler’s initiative that have fallen in these two years. The 2010 U.S. Open was held at Pebble Beach, with Hyler and USGA official Mike Davis limiting the water applications leading up to the championship, providing a brownish patina to the course. The U.S. Amateurs in 2010 and ’11 were held on one-hundred-percent fescue courses — Chambers Bay in Washington State and Erin Hills in Wisconsin — and viewers watching on television saw quite the contrast to the emerald Augusta National look. Both courses are links-

February 2012 P�� PineStraw : The Art & Soul of the Sandhills

G O L F T OW N J O U R NA L

style, lower-maintenance designs that implore a golfer to plan for the roll and bounce of his shot beyond the simple math of playing from Point A to Point B and dialing in a 173-yard flight. Not everyone is ready for more brown on their golf courses. But more will at least listen to a conversation that Hyler initiated two years ago. In time, they will simply have no choice as the worldwide premium on fresh water supplies intensifies. “I have been quite frankly thrilled with the reception of those comments,” Hyler says as his two-year tenure comes to an end in February 2012. “There is a debate and a discussion around sustainable turfgrass management practices and about using less water, and people are talking about it. “Now, has there been any tangible result at your average golf course? It’s minimal, I’d say. But this is the sort of thing that takes a drip, drip, drip, drip kind of approach to get people to change their expectations.” Hyler is also encouraged by maintenance practices at Atlanta Athletic Club, the site of the 2011 PGA Championship, where superintendent Ken Mangum has reduced his maintenance budget by some 20 percent by eliminating cosmetic practices that golfers have not noticed nor complained about. The club installed Champion Ultradwarf Bermuda on its greens and Zoysia in its fairways — two strains that allow for optimal playing conditions but less watering. “Superintendents get it, they totally get it,” Hyler says. “They understand the costs involved are exorbitant in today’s economy and that we’re running out of water. They, more than anyone, understand that things cannot continue as they have for so many years. The people driving the lush look are members, green committees and course owners. The discussions we’ve had over these two years have been constructive. “People simply have to wake up and realize what we’ve known for so many years is just not sustainable.” Which leaves with us yet another perspective on the idea of less-is-more in the grooming department, this coming from noted architect Charles Blair Macdonald from nearly a century ago: If I had my way there would be a troupe of cavalry horses running through every trap and bunker on the course before a tournament started, where only a niblick could get the ball out and then but only a few yards. I have seen a number of traps and bunkers that afforded better lies and easier strokes than the fairway. This, of course, is ridiculous. PS

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Located in Pinehurst, 585 Hwy 5 | 295-2293

Lee Pace will write about hickory golf and other vintage topics in his forthcoming book, The Golden Age of Pinehurst, due out in spring 2012.

PineStraw : The Art & Soul of the Sandhills . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

February 2012

February 2012 P�� PineStraw : The Art & Soul of the Sandhills

February 2012 The Snowmen On the morning after the last snow the sun comes out early. It is Saturday The snow is wet. Huge possibilities sprout in the fertile minds of children. The sun comes out early. It is Saturday. On every lawn balls of snow are rolled. Images sprout in the fertile minds of children. Fathers and mothers look into each other’s eyes. On every lawn balls of snow are rolled Sons scour closets for old red scarves Fathers and mothers look into each other’s eyes and move outside to dress their children’s charges. Sons scour closets for old red scarves, daughters hunt for hats and pipes and skirts Mothers dress their children’s charges Fathers raid kitchens for carrot noses. Daughters hunt for hats and pipes and skirts — stones for buttons, grapes for eyes Fathers raid kitchens for carrot noses and pluck hedge branches for green hair. Stones for buttons, grapes for eyes — the snowmen gaze and smile from yard to yard hedge branches for green hair the whirr of cameras everywhere. The snowmen gaze and smile from yard to yard the parents watch, locked in each other’s arms the whirr of cameras everywhere gives blessing to these creatures they have made like God. That night, locked in each other’s arms, the parents dream of huge possibilities and the creatures they had made like God On the morning after the last snow.

— Tony Abbott

The Honeymooners

By JoHn H. Wilson

he front-page photo of a young couple stepping off a Douglas DC-3 propeller plane at Knollwood field in Southern Pines grabbed my attention as I was perusing some back issues of our local newspaper, The Pilot. The young woman wore a radiant smile and looked stunning in her below-the-knee navy blue skirt and black heels. He was tall and fair, clad in dark suit and a light-colored overcoat. They exuded a mix of quiet elegance and modesty. But who was this handsome mystery couple? Local dignitaries were gathered on the tarmac to greet the celebrity couple: C.N. Page, mayor of Southern Pines; Hoke Pollock, president of the Chamber of Commerce; Tom White, town manager; and Ed Best, Piedmont Airlines representative. Reading down the column, I learned that Jack and Charlotte Kyne were from Cincinnati, Ohio, and had just landed for a three-day honeymoon in Southern Pines, their first visit to the Sandhills. Following a brief interview by Ed Cox of local radio station WEEB, the couple was driven in a bright red Oldsmobile convertible by Walter Topping of Cherry Motors to the elegant Highland Pines Inn on East Massachusetts Avenue in Southern Pines, and greeted by proprietor Charles Stitzer, Jr. It was unusually sunny and warm on that 18th day of February 1949, sixtythree years ago. I asked myself: What was Southern Pines like back then? Downtown Southern Pines in 1949 was a surprisingly busy hub of shopping and activity. One could find almost any knickknack in C.S. Patch’s dime store on the corner of West Broad and New Hampshire Avenue. Howard’s Bakery, next to the train depot, was famous for its fresh home grated coconut layer cake. A 1949 Pontiac could be procured for $1,792 at Southern Pines Motor Company on the corner of East Connecticut and Broad. Next door, McDonald-Page Motor Company displayed a sleek line of shiny new De Sotos, and Jackson Motors advertised a 1949 Ford Six Tudor sedan for $1,557. Walking down West Broad Street, Jack and Charlotte may have stepped into the Sandhills Sport Shop (now the Little Toy Shop) to sort through a new collection of Oxford buttondown collar shirts, selling for $3.75 each, or grabbed lunch at Jack’s Grill ( now Colors ‘n Clay), famous for its sumptuous steak and seafood. Farther down the street, the couple might have eyed a selection of fine china and silverware in Welch’s Gift Shop (now BB&T), or picked up an item or two at the A&P grocery or the Sandhills Drugstore, both located in the building that now houses The Country Bookshop. They may have popped into Mrs. Hayes Bookshop, which sold not only books but RCA records, Parker 51 fountain pens, adding machines, and Remington typewriters, or peeked into Mrs. Hayes Shop for Women, which had a sale on the “Powers Girl of the Month” hat by Brewster for $6.95. Tarzan’s New York Adventure with Johnny Weismuller and Maureen O’Sullivan was playing at the Sunrise Theater on West Broad Street, and the Carolina Theatre on East Broad Street was showing The Kissing Bandit, starring Frank Sinatra and Kathryn Grayson. Jack and Charlotte had a fabulous time visiting the sights and delights of the Sandhills. In the evening, they dined at the finest establishments in Southern Pines. On Friday evening, they were guests of George and Blanchette Mascal of the posh Pine Valley Inn, replete with a violin and piano ensemble. George was a former majordomo of Club 21 in New York City. The next evening, owners Lois and Ronald Beauregard invited the couple for a dinner/Valentine dance at the Blue Mirror on U.S. Highway 1 in

Southern Pines, next to Cherry Motors. Charlotte wore an orchid and Jack a boutonniere, courtesy of Carolina Gardens. Jimmy Cavallo and his orchestra struck up a rendition of “Carolina Moon” at 9 p.m. and played until one o’clock the next morning. To top it off, a local bakery delivered a heart-shaped wedding cake and a bottle of champagne. It was a Saturday night to remember. The whole town got caught up in the visit of the honeymooners and did everything possible to ensure that Jack and Charlotte had the time of their life, especially after hearing their incredible story. After their Friday wedding in Cincinnati, the newlyweds planned to return to work the following Monday. Jack was an inspector with General Electric and Charlotte was a nurse at the Children’s Hospital of Cincinnati. The modest couple spent what little savings they had on new living room furniture for their small three-room apartment. A honeymoon would have to wait until the coffers were replenished. A dream call from WCOP radio in Cincinnati changed everything. Unbeknown to Jack, his best man, Robert McMahon, had entered the couple in a honeymoon contest, sponsored by WCOP radio and Piedmont Airlines, which recently began offering flight service from Cincinnati to Southern Pines. Jack and Charlotte were selected among 1,600 entrees, thanks to a persuasive letter submitted by McMahon, nominating the couple for the honeymoon prize. I wondered ... if a honeymoon contest were held today, what arrangements would be made for the chosen couple? Perhaps Southern Pines Mayor David McNeill; Town Manager Reagan Parsons; Patrick Coughlin, president and CEO of the Moore County Chamber of Commerce would greet the honeymoon couple at the airport, along with a radio announcer from WEEB and a reporter from The Pilot. Since Oldsmobiles are no longer made, maybe the honeymooners would be driven in a bright red Ford Mustang to the Jefferson Inn, the oldest hotel in town. A lot of ideas would be pitched and vigorously debated before an itinerary was nailed down. However, I am sure the final arrangements for the new honeymooners would not differ too much from those made for Jack and Charlotte sixty-three years ago. Today, the selected honeymooners would see a splendid downtown Southern Pines, one never as beautiful or energetic. The Southern magnolias, dogwoods and azaleas lining the railroad tracks have reached full maturity, providing verdant beauty and shade to both sides of Broad Street. The town’s handsome brick buildings have been meticulously restored and house some of North Carolina’s finest restaurants. East and West Broad Streets and their intersecting roads are lined with a wide and eclectic collection of upscale shops, boutiques, cafés, bistros, and art galleries. The couple would see a beautifully restored Sunrise Theater on West Broad Street and might take in a simulcast from London’s National Theatre or the Metropolitan Opera from New York’s Lincoln Center. As did Jack and Charlotte, the new honeymooners might also enjoy a round of golf, tour horse country, visit the Village of Pinehurst, and dine at elegant restaurants. Whether or not a similar honeymoon contest will again be launched is anyone’s guess. But one thing is for certain: Southern Pines is a wonderful destination for a honeymoon. PS John Wilson spent most of his career abroad and now resides in Southern Pines.

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Affair of The Heart

Behind the Heart ’n’ Soul of Jazz weekend is a love affair worthy of a torch song By DaviD C. Bailey PHotograPH By Cassie Butler

n February 10th and 11th, the Cardinal Ballroom of the Carolina Hotel will resound with the Heart ’n’ Soul of Jazz, featuring harmonica player and guitarist Pat Bergeson, vocalist Annie Sellic and vocalist Brian Newman. Event organizer Jan Schnell will be paying special attention to the lyrics, knowing that they’ll echo the eternal truths that the poets, philosophers and song writers have been telling us about for eons — that love will find a way — and also knowing that her late husband Ed Schnell, would enjoy the evening. It was 39 years ago when they first met across a crowded room just like in the song “Some Enchanted Evening.” “We were in a bar, how’s that?” she asks in her throaty voice. It was St. Patty’s Day in a country club on Lake Erie, 1973, and her husband-to-be was relaxing with a drink after driving through a snowstorm from Cleveland. One of Ed’s favorite vocalists, Perry Como, might very well have been singing “I Love You So” in the background. No matter, it became the song that Ed would sing to her over the years, their anthem to the power of love. “Perry Como reminded me so much of Ed’s personality,” she says, “a beautiful, humble, inspiring warm sincerity that emanated from them. He lit up the room when he entered.” Could she hear bells ringing? “Oh yeah,” Jan says. “I thought, ‘What an amazing man.’” But there wouldn’t be any wedding bells for nearly two years. “Both of us were in marriages that were in a state of flux, and both of us were devoted to our children,” she says from her living room 39 years later, Como’s voice on the speakers in the background. And I love you so, The people ask me how, How I’ve lived ’til now, I tell them I don’t know. Jan had three children, the oldest in the eighth grade. Ed had six children. To put it mildly, it was not a convenient time to fall in love: “Nothing in life ever is,” Jan says. “You don’t know how many friends came up and said, ‘Jan, have you lost your mind? Do you know what you’re doing, taking on six more children?’ Somehow or another, that didn’t matter.” At first it seemed impossible: “We felt we couldn’t disturb the children’s lives — and wouldn’t — so we spent the next year and a half figuring out how we would do this.” But all the songs told them that it could be done: “Love Conquers All,” “Fools Rush In” and “Love Changes Everything.” Ed was an ophthalmologist and, as a physician, “He had a way with any problem that came before him,” Jan says. “He would chew it up and figure it out. He was a born problem solver. He told me over and over again he wanted me to be happy and if it meant we wouldn’t be together, he would be good with that. He was a very selfless, caring person, and he was determined to solve this thing in a way that didn’t hurt others.” I guess they understand, How lonely life has been, But life began again, The day you took my hand. They were married in 1976 in a small, private ceremony on the banks of Lake Erie, and the two sets of children were blended into one happy family. “Friends now say, ‘I can’t believe how close your family is,’” Jan says. “And jazz and music were in our life from the beginning.” Ed had eclectic tastes and played just about every genre of music on his state-of-the-art Hi Fi, blues, Cajun, Zydeco, classical, but particulary Dixieland, which Jan learned to like. Jan loves female vocalists, whom she acquired a taste for while visiting hole-inthe-wall jazz clubs with her brother in New York City. “Ed was less than enamored with them than I was,” she says. “There was always music in our house.” They also both fell in love with Pinehurst. Just before their first visit,

“We’d just taken our boat over to winter storage across Lake Erie with ski parkas and ski hats on, and the snow was blowing horizontal,” Jan recalls. By contrast, Pinehurst was balmy: “We couldn’t believe the beauty of it, the green, the fauna, the pine trees.” On their second visit in 1976, they bought a lot and then an office for Ed. “We fell in love with Pinehurst — I’m still in love with it,” she says. They began attending “Jazz ’n January,” an annual event held by the Arts Council of Moore County at the Sunrise Theater to raise money to maintain it. It was started by Mal and Marge Owings in 1986, and the Schnells got involved in 1988. “Then one day Arts Council President Peter MacBeth approached us and asked if we would take it over and we said, ‘Why not?’” At the time it was a one-night event. That was before Richard Mclenand, manager of the Pinehurst Hotel, approached the Schnells and asked about expanding the event at the hotel into a weekend-long affair. “I said, ‘You know what? I’m not sure about this. Jazz in a small community is a tough thing to sell. It’s going to be difficult for an entire weekend. But being the optimistic people we are, I think we can do it.’” Jan landed Shirley Horn and her trio for the first weekend in 1992. Since then they’ve hosted Loonis McGlohon (1993), Marian McPartland (1995), Dorothy Donegan (1997), Toots Thielemans (2000), Herbie Mann (2003), Tierney Sutton (2007) and Nina Simone (2011). Many have made repeat appearances, Jan says. Accustomed to smoke-filled venues and institutional hotel rooms, “Once they come here, they’re wined and dined and treated so well by the hotel, they all want to come back.” Working hand-in-glove with the Arts Council and the hotel staffs, Ed and Jan Schnell built the event into what it is today. “These events don’t happen by themselves,” Sandhills TV3 Cable Channel host Mark Evans once said. “Jan’s work behind the scenes with Chris Dunn of the Arts Council and the event’s co-chairman, Scott Brewton, make them possible. Jan and Ed Schnell provided Pinehurst audiences with an extraordinary opportunity.” Hearing international jazz greats and then meeting them afterward for drinks and conversation “is not available elsewhere, even at international jazz festivals or jazz clubs in New York or California,” he says. For the Schnells, “It was a labor of love. It truly was,” Jan says. “It became another avenue of our love.” After a year’s “wishing and working and hoping” finally culminated in the event itself, “we’d sit and would squeeze each other’s hand while listening to artists we’d revered through the years. And here they were in our little town because we dragged them here and told them how much they’d enjoy it.” And yes I know, how lonely life can be, The shadows follow me, And the night won’t set me free, But I don’t let the evening get me down, Now that you’re around me. In August 2007, Ed Schnell died of melanoma after battling it with everything that he had. “He tackled it like everything else,” Jan says. “He was so optimistic, so strong. For about a year I was wiped out. He was my life.” At 76, Jan continues billing artists and helping organize the Heart ’n’ Soul of Jazz. “I can’t imagine not doing it; I know that some day I’ll pass it on. I’m not getting any younger; fortunately I’m still strong.” And yes, she does it in Ed’s memory: “When you’re so filled with love, you’re thankful for it.” And that makes you want to share your love with others. “We had an amazing life. I treasured every minute of our lives together. We had a life that not many ever experience. What else can anyone hope for?” Your thoughts are just for me, You set my spirit free, I’m happy that you do. PS

Bless Our Hounds

The Boyd family began foxhunting in the Sandhills nearly a century ago. Luckily, the tradition endures

W James (left) and Jackson Boyd

hen the sound of the hunt horn rings through Weymouth Woods this February, hounds, horses and riders will be gathering to honor the heritage of the Moore County Hounds. Almost a hundred years ago, in 1914, James Boyd began hunting the pinewoods and farmland surrounding his country estate in Southern Pines. The women rode sidesaddle, and the young Boyd was a soldier newly home from service on battlefields of Italy and France. In the years between the two World Wars, foxhunting flourished in the Sandhills. Boyd’s brother Jackson joined him as Joint Master. Together they hunted three times a week, from November through February, for almost 30 years. Nearby hunts in Pinehurst and at Overhills, the Rockefeller compound near Spring Lake, were active. Today, the Moore County Hounds hunt is the oldest registered hunt in North Carolina and the lone local survivor carrying on the Boyd tradition. The founders of the Moore County Hounds deserve to be credited with the hunt’s longevity. Unlike the Rockefellers, who built an elaborate hunt facility housed in a very private and isolated compound, the Boyds tied their hunt to the community. It was their way of connecting with friends, neighbors and visitors to the Sandhills. Although James Boyd had been introduced to foxhunting in the aristocratic English countryside, he decided to adopt a different tone for Weymouth. His description of a 1916 New Year’s Day hunt captures, with good-hearted wit, the experience of hunting with local farmers. We laid hounds on and off we went. When we struck the first fence it sounded like the collapse of the Crystal Palace. I looked back, and there was a cloud of smoke and flying timbers. When the air cleared, the fence was gone, but all the field were on the right side and riding to beat hell.

February 2012 P�� PineStraw : The Art & Soul of the Sandhills

Photographs this page from the Moore County Historical Association

By Maureen Clark

Photographs this page from the Weymouth Center for the Arts & Humanities

When he wasn’t foxhunting, James Boyd was a prominent writer who published a number of well-researched historical novels, many set in North Carolina. He was part of Scribner editor William Maxwell Evarts (“Max”) Perkins’ group of writers, which included F. Scott Fitzgerald, Ernest Hemingway, Thomas Wolfe and Marjorie Kinnan Rawlings. Boyd wrote from a standing desk in the secondfloor, paneled library overlooking the kennels. Writing for Southern Pines Magazine in 1924, he addressed the expense of foxhunting, with characteristic humor and honesty. It would not only be simpler to say that people hunt for fun; that they squander money, catch cold, desert their wives, break their necks, get robbed by dealers, wear tight boots in the cold weather ... it would not only be simpler to say this, it would also do more honor to the sport. Boyd could also touch more seriously on the timeless lure of foxhunting as he did in an introduction to Anthony Trollope’s Hunting Sketches in 1933. The feel of a horse’s lifting shoulders, the swing of hounds across the grass, the sweep of a hunting country. ... These things are among the beauties of this earth; and they are reinforced by a thousand minor joys ... by the quality of leather and melton and cord, by soft late-August daybreaks and hard, bright mornings of November ... The Boyds’ love of foxhunting was coupled with pragmatism and vision. The family realized early that the future of the sport depended on having enough land on which to hunt. Accordingly, four members of the Boyd family and several friends formed a company that purchased 2,300 acres in Manly several weeks before the crash of the stock market in 1929, says research done by Dominick Pagnotta for the Walthour- Moss Foundation. And the legacy lived on. In 1942, two years before James Boyd’s death, the hounds were given to Ginnie and Pappy Moss. The Mosses built new kennels on their farm, Mile-A-Way, in Manly, a mile down May Street from Weymouth. Before Pappy Moss died in 1976, the Walthour-Moss Foundation was established, a land trust that has amassed 4,200 acres. Cameron Sadler, great niece of Ginnie Moss (who died six years ago), is now one of the Moore County Hounds’ four Joint Masters, and an heir in spirit to the Boyd legacy. Cameron, like her great aunt, grew up in Savannah but came to Southern Pines to fox hunt as soon as she and her sister could sit their ponies. While Cameron’s foxhunting began in Moore County, her job with Kraft Foods, currently as regional vice president of sales, has occasioned eleven different moves. Cameron, who now lives in Southern Pines and commutes to Charlotte, took advantage of her relocations to ride with a variety of hunts. The first association was with the Shake Rag hunt in Atlanta. “Aunt Ginnie gave me a horse [named] Remember Page to hunt there,” Cameron recalls. She has gone on to ride, as a guest, with over 50 hunts on the East Coast, across the United States, in Ireland, England, France, New Zealand and Australia. Cameron is married to Lincoln Sadler, a wildlife biologist who works at the Sandhills Gamelands in Hoffman. He is the grandson of Verdie Caddell, a beloved horsewoman who taught several generations of youngsters to ride at her Southern Pines stable. Lincoln has whipped in for the hunt for years. PineStraw : The Art & Soul of the Sandhills . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . February 2012

February 2012 P�� PineStraw : The Art & Soul of the Sandhills

Photographs this page from the Weymouth Center for the Arts & Humanities

Like the Boyds, Cameron understands the importance of the Moore County Hounds’ ties to the community. She welcomes opportunities to speak to clubs and civic groups about foxhunting. She is thrilled with the crowds that throng Youngs Road for the annual Blessing of the Hounds. A treasured document in her home is the Declaration of the Town of Southern Pines, signed by Mayor Norris Hodgkins in 1960 citing: The Hunt has continued for fifty years and during that time brought pleasure and recreation to the many citizens of the Sandhills. The recent overwhelming turnout of the community to protect the foundation’s land from a N.C. Department of Transportation project speaks to the strength of to the community relations established by the Boyds. In Cameron’s opinion, the greatest challenge facing hunts across the country is the loss of hunt land. In that regard, the Walthour-Moss Foundation’s 4,200 acres located primarily within the boundaries of Youngs Road and north of Lake Bay Road make Moore County unique on the East Coast. Indeed, the Boyd’s planning in the 1920s was prescient. Cameron also notes the changes in the riders foxhunting now as opposed to the early fields. “We want to be considerate of who is hunting and find a positive way for people to enjoy riding,” she observes. “There is a wider variety of ability and knowledge now, with some who start riding at 40 or later. Like the Virginia hunts outside Washington, we have a lot who commute to hunt here.” In the early days, many of the homes around Weymouth had stables. The Campbell House, the home of Jackson Boyd, had a stable, as did Loblolly up the road. Horses were a part of the landscape and many children grew up riding. As late as the 1960s there was a horse stabled next to Southern Pines Elementary School on Massachusetts Avenue. Like the composition of the riders who follow the hounds, the quarry has changed. The native quarry has always been the gray fox, with a smaller population of the larger red fox introduced to the Sandhills. According to Cameron, “Coyote is our predominant prey now. In 1940, coyote territory was a slim band of the western United States. Now they are found in every state except Hawaii. They are bigger, faster and more adaptable than foxes.” Locally, the hunt has responded to the shift by organizing the field accordingly. The first flight follows the faster paced coyote closely. A middle flight maintains the pace and jumps more selectively. The last group, hill toppers, follows without jumping. “They (the coyote) seem to be very game,” Cameron explains. “ I saw one (coyote) sit and wait, unworried, for the hounds to catch up before he took off again.” The terrain is also altered. When James and Jackson Boyd struck out with hounds, the fields

Photographs this page by Jeanne Paine

were open, the longleaf stands clear cut, and farmland was plentiful. The brothers could visually locate the pack. Hounds were not threatened by traffic. Today, the trees have grown and the hunting is predominantly “woods” hunting where the voice of the hounds is important, and the so-called “biddability” of the hounds — their obedience to the huntsman’s direction — is desirable. In a portrait of the pack that hangs in Cameron’s home, painted by the wife of Will Stratton, the Boyds’ huntsman, Cameron points out the mixture of hounds depicted: “There are two Orange County hounds, three English hounds, a crossbred and a Penn Marydel in the pack.” This month, Moore County Hounds’ huntsman David Raley will hunt a pack that is largely Penn Marydel, a long-eared hound known for a strong, braying voice. On February 18th, the Moore County Hounds will come from the kennel at Mile-A-Way, up Sheldon Road, across Youngs Road and up Ridge Street to the north gate of Weymouth. They will meet the field of riders in the large meadow of the Weymouth Woods state park east of the estate. The Friends of Weymouth, Joint Masters Dick Webb, Effie Ellis, Mike Russell, Cameron Sadler and hunt secretary Ginny Thomasson invite the community, in the tradition of the Moore County Hounds, to be a part of honoring the Boyd family and the Southern Pines heritage of foxhunting on grounds of Weymouth beginning at 8:30 a.m. Carriages representing the driving community will join the celebration. The hounds go off at 9 a.m. PS

Today, (left) Cameron Sadler, grand niece of the late horsewoman Ginnie Moss, serves as one of four joint masters of the historic Moore County hounds, preserving a legacy begun with James and Jackson Boyd. Above, (top) Hounds, horses and riders will gather at Weymouth to keep the tradition of North Carolina’s oldest registered hunt alive. Above, the carriage community will be joining in on February 18.

, nce e m o -ma h n w aux o D , F e f i n r e L outhe u r A T ding S n u o p t r a e

illustrations By suZanne CaBrera 60

racy was as hang-dog and heart-broke as he’d ever been in his life. His friends tried to get him out on the town, but he wanted no part of it. This went on for near about six months. Finally, his cousin Carla said, “Boy, snap out of it. Why don’t you find yourself a woman on the computer?” Now, Tracy didn’t think of himself as the kind of man would go on-theline to find someone, but he knowed it worked for a lot of people. Carla had found both of her ex-husbands on something called E-Hormoney. So he agreed to let her help him. Carla said the first thing to do was get a good profile picture. So she put some “product” in Tracy’s hair and mussed it up to look kindly devil-may-care. Then she told him to shave his arms, shine ’em up good with baby oil, do a few bicep curls and put on a tight (and clean) T-shirt. He balked at first, but Carla said man arms was like truck tires — they looked best when they was glossy and a little too big for the body — and that made sense to Tracy. Well, he posted up his picture and his profile, and the datin’ service sent him what they called his matches, which means folks you might want to hook onto, as the young people say. That’s when he seen her picture, and his heart plumb melted. She was a pretty little thing. Curly blonde hair. Pearly white teeth. And a pair of twin sisters ridin’ up high like fog lights on a Dodge Ram 4-by-4. Weren’t none of it natural, not that Tracy knowed or cared. The way she was curled up on the couch, zipped up inside one of them fuzzy pink relaxin’ sacks, holding up a bag of extry hot pretzel nubs — with her eyebrows raised just so and her mouth all pouty-like — well, it spoke to him. Her profile said her name was Faye Ella, and she was from Allbedurn, right next to where Tracy lived in Suffering Pines. She said her “likes” included intimate dinners, walks on the beach, cuddlin’ in front of a fire, watchin’ kick-boxin’ on Spanish-language television and Tazerin’ anyone who got in her way at a Black Friday super sale. Tracy liked him a sparky woman. She said her “dislikes” was dishonesty, game playin’, phonies, and people who put ketchup on their eggs, which Tracy agreed with because when you mixed it all together, you got orange eggs, and everyone knows that God intended orange for oranges. And tangerines, a course. And extry hot pretzel nubs. And, all right, carrots. And hunting caps. And, well, road construction cones. And Clemson. And, OK, Auburn. The more Tracy thought about it, the more it seemed the Lord was gettin’ a little too loose with orange these days. But back to Faye Ella. The most important thing she said in her information was that she was looking for a good time possibly leading to a lifetime of drudgery and commitment. Law, that was exactly how Tracy felt. Was they soul mates? They was only one way to find out. He sent her a message. Carla had told him never to “wink” at a woman on-the-line. She said women think that’s cheap, so Tracy wrote Faye Ella from his heart. He said: “Faye Ella, My name is Tracy, but I ain’t no woman. My parents named me Tracy after one of my grandfathers, which, OK, that was their right, but it sure has caused me a butt load of aggravation, not to mention a couple of simple assault charges due to fights I have got into over my name. But them charges has been dismissed mostly. Would you like to meet? I live in Suffering Pines. Sincerely, Tracy” It wasn’t a minute later that she shot back: “Dear Tracy — I knew a boy in high school named Carol, and he was very masculine, so your girly-fied name does not bother me at all. Plus, I can see by your picture that you are all man. There is a cozy little restaurant on the old U.S. 1, near Jones Skating Rink. Can you meet me there at 3 on Saturday? Cordially, Faye Ella Joogins.”

Tracy wrote back. “Yes, I will meet you there. I am lookin’ forward to it, as I am pretty sure that restaurant has a TV, so we can watch the Wufheels game.” “I love the Wufheels,” replied Faye Ella. She ended her note with one of them little smiley faces, which made Tracy grin for the first time in a month of Sundays.

hey ordered up some atomic hot wings and beer, and, by golly, the stories came tumblin’ out. Tracy told how his first wife had ran off with a census taker. Feller just came to the door asked how many people lived in the household, and would they call theyselves black or white, or mixed, or native American, or Hispanic, or non-Hispanic, or Asian, or Specific Islander, or what have you. He didn’t even get to the end of his list before she had her bags packed, and they was riding off in his little hybrid car. He told Faye Ella how he’d taken up for a while with his landlady in one of them May-Remember romances, but it had wore thin, and she finally cut him loose after he chose waitin’ in line for some Jo-bangles chicken biscuits over meetin’ her at noon one day. That hurt him bad, but, dammit, chicken biscuits was two-for-one that day. Faye Ella shook her head like she understood. She had experienced bad relational luck, too. Her husband had met a girl that worked at a coffee shop. Faye Ella said she shoulda knowed somethin’ was up when he started wearin’ clogs and had them little white wires danglin’ from his ears all the time, and then — Lord, how did she miss this one? — he asked her to switch from Maximum House coffee to some $12-a-pound organical coffee growed by a herd of free-roamin’ llamas down to South America. “I was so stupid,” she said. “But the coffee was good.” Tracy nodded tenderly. “Llamas are right smart animals.” Faye Ella went on. “I told myself I would never love again — unless I met the perfect man, and the chance of that seemed pretty slim.” Tracy took her hands across the table. He gazed deep into her eyes, then over her shoulder real quick to check the score of the ballgame. The Wufheels was making a comeback, and so was Tracy. “Faye Ella,” he said real slow. “I don’t say this to many people, but I would never put a chicken biscuit over you.” Well, next thing you knowed, they was back at his place, a room over the top of a barn on Youngs Road, clawin’ at each other like a couple a barn cats. Clothes a-flying ever which way. “Oh, Faye Ella,” Tracy says, pantin’ like he done run a mile. “Your body is like Pineybluff Lake — hot and wet and slightly scary in places, but all in all, excitin’ as hell.” “Take me! Take me!” whispered Faye Ella. “To the lake? Right now?” Tracy said. “No, you fool, through the doors of ecstasy and into the inner chamber of delight.” Tracy hesitated. Ecstasy? Delight? Wasn’t they dance clubs in downtown Suffering Pines? I shoulda went out with the boys, he thought, then I would know where these places was.

“To bed, you lunkhead,” Faye Ella said, all husky-like. Lord have mercy. You know the rest. Glistening whatnots. Hard this pressin’ up against soft that. Heavin’ so-n-sos. And finally, more ’splosions than over at the rock quarry.

ell, for the next few weeks, everything was hunky dory, the way it is with new love. Tracy went around whistlin’. He worked out to the Practo-Simplex plant, assemblin’ them blenders. Faye Ella had herself a good job at the Moan Memorial Hospital, workin’ as some kind of therapist or other, a career she had chose because she could help people, but she didn’t have to wear one of them little blue hospital suits to do it. Not that it would have mattered ’cause she and Tracy was sheddin’ their clothes regular. Usually, Faye Ella would stop at Tracy’s apartment after work, and they’d carry on there, but if they couldn’t wait a whole day, they’d meet on they lunch hours somewheres in between they workplaces — whether it was off on the Fort Bog Military Reservation, or in the Wayback Woods Nature Preserve, or over at the famous Pinecroak Country Club with its rich Yankee trillionaires. One time, they met over to House in the Tar Heel, where they was a bunch of reactors wearin’ pointy triangle hats and playin’ old-timey soldiers. Ever which way they turned, they was someone a-blowin’ a flute or bangin’ a drum or lightin’ off a pretend cannon. So what did they do? Why, they crawled in one of them little white tents and made they own fireworks, that’s how flat crazy they was for each other. Didn’t matter to Tracy that he ’bout got filleted like a smallmouth bass when he rolled over on a bayonet that one of them reactors left behind. The only time they got caught was when they went neckin’ over to Sandbetweenyourtoes Community College. A security guard chased them off and told ’em as serious as a heart attack that SCC, which was growin’ like topsy, had just bought the big old turnip field where the Hairy Teeter had planned to go but was now gonna be used for the new Sandbetweenyourtoes Volleyball and Frisbee Golf Team (whatever that is!). Anyhow, Tracy and Faye Ella moved right along, seeing as how they didn’t have no volleyballs or frisbees. ’Tweren’t long before Tracy was tellin’ his family he had found the one. He said Faye Ella was unlike any woman he had ever knowed. Said she liked beer and fishin’ shows, and she was the only female he ever knew could walk through a department store and not let someone spray her with an oh-de-somethin’ that gave him a headache. Faye Ella was tellin’ her family the same kinda of thing, only from a woman’s view. She said Tracy was sweet, and

kind, and he liked “Prancin’ with the Stars,” and he put the seat down without being told. All the womenfolk said, “Hang on to him, Faye Ella,” and Faye Ella said she would. Well, one day, after “lunch” with Tracy, Faye Ella ducked into the hospital cafeteria to grab her a bite before she got back to work. She was almost to the checkout with her turkey sandwich when she reached back to grab a dish of ’naner pudding’. At the same time, someone behind her reached for the same ’naner puddin’. They hands touched, and Faye Ella felt a jolt like she had done stuck a fork in a toaster. She looked up into a pair of brown eyes that was blazin’ with the hunger of a wild animal. Like a raccoon that’s been tryin’ to get into your trash for three nights runnin’ ’cause he can smell that chicken neck you throwed out. “Oh, please excuse me,” said a voice that sounded like that man who used to advertise Chryslers with Corinthians leather. “It’s just that I’m in a hurry to get back to my patients.” He was the finest specimen of manhood Faye Ella had ever laid eyes on. He stood near about 6-foot-3. His hair was dark and curly. His skin was the color of peanut brittle. His white coat was embroidered with his name: Dr. Chorizo Grande. Faye Ella blushed. “Oh, my goodness, Dr. Grande! I am so sorry! Here, you take the puddin’. I really wanted the body. I mean, the brownie.” “As you wish,” he said. Faye Ella fumbled with her purse and paid for her food. He was right behind her. “Won’t you join me?” he said. “I would like nothin’ better,” she said.

racy heard a car screechin’ to a halt right outside his apartment. He no sooner got up off the couch than Carla busted through the door. “Tracy! Have you looked at Faye Ella’s Faceplant page lately?” “No, why?” Tracy said. Carla explained that folks had been playin’ tag with pictures of Faye Ella that was took at some doctor shindig, and them pictures was goin’ up on a wall where ever’one could see, and the worst part was, ever’one was likin’ them pictures. Tracy went on-the-line, and there they was: pictures of a blonde woman smooshed up against a dark-haired feller at a bar. They was beamin’ and clinkin’ they little umbrella drinks together. The title under them pictures said, “Having a Grande Old Time.” At first, Tracy disbelieved it was his Faye Ella. He thought it was someone that favored her. But then Carla said, “No, it’s her. See?” and she pointed to one of them pictures that showed the inside of the woman’s right wrist. Clear as day you could see a couple of orange drumettes with the word “forever” underneath. Tracy looked down at his left wrist, where they was a foamy little beer mug with the word “together” underneath. When him and Faye Ella held hands, them wings and beer was “together forever,” a reminder of the first time they had met, as well as they up-to-now atomic hot love for each other. “Now, someone else is dipping his wings in her blue cheese dressin’,” Tracy sniffed, tears a-

February 2012 P�� PineStraw : The Art & Soul of the Sandhills

wellin’ up in his eyes. Carla slapped him upside the head. “Don’t be such a wussy!” she hollered at him. “That is yore woman, now get out there and fight for her.” “What if she don’t want to be fought for?” said Tracy, rubbing his one good ear. “Ain’t no such thing as a woman don’t want to be fought for,” said Carla. “Boy, you don’t read much romantical history, do you?” The next thing Tracy knowed, they was in Carla’s convert’ble, whizzin’ down Midlife Road. She told Tracy she had been detectin’ and had found out that them pictures was took at a convention a few weeks ago — the one Faye Ella had told Tracy that she would be so busy working at, there was no point in him goin’. Carla had also sniffed out that Mr. Tall, Dark and Smiley was a doctor. Not just any doctor. A surgeon of the lady parts. That really got to Tracy. There was no tellin’ what this feller knew how to do to a woman. What if they really was some inner chamber of delight that he knew about, and Tracy didn’t? What if he had special tools? What if him and Faye Ella laid around, nekkid as jaybirds, laughin’ about what Tracy thought was sexy. Lord, he wished he had never shared his fantasy about bein’ a Moto-Rooter man. “Where are we goin’, Carla?” he said. “To the hospital,” she said. “They been walkin’ out together ever’ night for the past few nights.” “How do you know?” said Tracy. “I staked ’em out,” Carla said. Tracy was not the least bit surprised. Ever since Carla was little, she had been eat up with snoopin’. Tracy thought back to the time, when they was kids, that she ordered X-ray glasses that didn’t work. Carla had swore, in words that none of the other kids knowed, that someone at the comic book company was gonna pay. These days, she was hooked on court TV and po-lice shows and considered herself an expert on all ’vestigative matters. “What are we going to do?” Tracy said Carla’s mouth hanged open. “What do you think? Confront ’em! Tell ’em, ‘How long did y’all think you could play me for a fool?!’ Say, ‘Faye Ella, it’s him or me!’” “What if she says it’s him?” said Tracy. “Well, then, you’re screwed. Though, practically speakin’, prob’ly not.” They parked in a corner of the parkin’ lot and waited. Sure enough, a few minutes later, out they strolled, Faye Ella and the doctor, just a-talkin and a-laughin’. Tracy felt sick on his stomach. “Let’s move,” Carla said, kickin’ her car door open. Her confidence was infective. Tracy kicked open his door, too — right into the side of a Mersaydees-Benz. “Dammit,” he said, lickin’ his thumb and runnin’ it over the dent. “That’s too deep for paintless repair. You got a sticky note?” “What?” Carla whisper-yelled. “I’m gonna leave ‘em a note with my number.” “Get. Over. There. And. Confront. Them. Two!” she said, jabbin’ her thumb toward Faye Ella and the doctor. Her jaw was clenchin’, and her eyes was buggin’. Tracy started walkin’ that way. The closer he got, the madder he got. “Faye Ella!” he yelled. Her and the doctor looked up. She was smilin’. “Oh, hey Tracy!” she said. “Don’t you hey-Tracy me,” he shouted. “I know ever’thin. I know about the convention. And ’bout them umbrella drinks. And ’bout you carryin’ on with the good doctor, here.” He pointed at Dr. Grande. “And I know all about that inner chamber of delight, buddy — don’t you think for one minute that I don’t!” The doctor raised his hands up, like he was telling Tracy to simmer down. “I think you misunderstand, my friend,” he said. He stepped toward Tracy.

“I don’t misunderstand nuthin’!” Tracy said. “You stand back, now! I’m warnin’ you!” “Tracy, please listen!” Faye Ella pleaded. But it was too late. Tracy’s brain had done cut off and his animal instincts had took over. He went at Dr. Grande with a kick to the mid-section. ’Twere bad luck for Dr. Grande that Tracy’s animal instincts had been soakin’ in Spanish-language kick-boxin’ ever’ since he had knowed Faye Ella. But ’twere badder luck for Tracy that Dr. Grande had paid his way through medical school by bein’ one of them Spanish-speakin’ kickboxers. Sawbones caught Tracy by the heel of his steel-toed boot, which left Tracy hoppin’ on one leg, tryin’ to save his balance and his honor. “Keep a-hold of him, Cory,” Faye Ella said. She turned to Tracy. “Now, listen to me Tracy Studington. There ain’t nothin’ going on between me and Cory. I know, he is the best lookin’ man you ever saw. I mean, look at him. He’s perfect. Have you ever saw such a body in all your life? And believe me, when I met him, I was ready to jump his bones. But Cory is gay, Tracy. We’re just friends.” “What?” Tracy said, lookin’ kindly yogie-fied, there on one leg. “The reason I been seein’ him so much is, he’s gonna operate on me, Tracy. My tubes is blocked, and I can’t have children. I want to have your babies, Tracy.” “You do?” Tracy said. “Yes,” Faye Ella said, gettin’ all weepy. “Well, hell,” Carla said off to the side. Tracy looked all embarrassed at Dr. Grande. “Look man, I’m really sorry ’bout this. Can I have my leg back now?” “Surely,” said Dr. Grande, droppin’ Tracy’s boot. Faye Ella hugged Tracy’s neck. “Oh, Faye Ella,” he said. “It’s just that I love you so much. I went crazy thinkin’ ’bout you with another man.” “I know,” Faye Ella said. “And I almost was. But it didn’t work out. And now, Tracy, I know for sure that you’re the only one for me. I mean, you was ready to fight for me. I cannot tell you how hot that makes me.” “Told you,” said Carla. Well, naturally, Tracy and Faye Ella went back to his place and was all over each other. Nipples here. Tongues there. Unjulatin’ ever’where. Later on, Tracy called Dr. Grande to ’pologize again and thank him for helpin’ Faye Ella. He said they was gonna get married, and they wanted him to come to the weddin’, and Tracy said if the doctor ever wanted to buy himself a blender, he’d see what he could do ’bout gettin’ the price knocked down. The doctor said thank you, and he would talk to them later ’cause he was very tired, and it had been a long day. Looked like, on top of ever’thin’ else, someone had doored his brand new Mersaydees in the parking lot. __________________ About the author: Moselle “Meemaw” Deercorn has been writing for as long as chickens have been scratching dirt. When she was in fifth grade, she wrote a May Day poem that her teacher read to the whole class. She wrote senior predictions for her high school yearbook, accurately foretelling the fall of homecoming queen and well-known hussy Ramona Rae Bell. Later, she helped to write her church’s cookbook, Someone’s in the Kitchen with Jesus. At age 83, under the tutelage of her driving-instructor-turnedcreative-writing-teacher, she began writing torrid romances. She has penned several bestsellers, including, Love, You Really Done It Now, Whispered Promises and Other Such Hooey, and One Heart’s Desire; Here We Go Again. She lives in Whynot with a ferret named Frank and her great-niece, PineStraw astrologer and beautician Astrid Stellanova, who has taken a leave to attend cosmology — or is that cosmetology? — school. In honor of Valentine’s Day, we bring you this excerpt from Meemaw’s forthcoming book, a tale of modern day lust and intrigue, Hot-Blooded Hook-Ons. PS

Photo Synthesis Bill Stoffel: Legacy of the lens

By Mary Elle Hunter

he pages of PineStraw frequently feature images produced by the members of the Sandhills Photography Club. Started almost thirty years ago by students in a creative photography course at Sandhills Community College, the club recently presented its 2011 Stoffel Awards, paying tribute to the late Bill Stoffel, who taught the course for fourteen years First presented in 2002 by Stoffel, the tradition has been continued by his wife, Kaye, in memory of her husband. Stoffel was a retired business executive who had seen service with the 8th Air Force as a navigator of a B-24 bomber during multiple missions over Germany during World War II. He often told his students about how he had first become interested in photography after he enrolled both himself and his teenage son in an adult education course. The teacher happened to be a visiting instructor, Dr. Helen Manzer, a prominent photographer known at the time as the First Woman of Color Photography. “I was hooked, even though initially my son didn’t share my enthusiasm,” Stoffel once recalled. He ended up traveling from the East Coast to California to take classes with Dr. Manzer and other notables, including Freeman Patterson, Ernst Haas and John Shaw. Stoffel learned from Dr. Manzer never to waste time on the obvious and that opportunities for shooting interesting pictures are everywhere. He felt interpreting the most commonplace objects or views through light, the use of lines, selective focus and other intangible elements were essential to producing impressive images. His work won him numerous awards from the International Photographic Society of America and was exhibited widely in galleries and public institutions nationally, as well as in North Carolina. He is also represented in private collections across the United States and in England. Originally, meetings of the Sandhills Photography Club were held at the Campbell House, but by 2000, when Jim Smith, a former president of the club, first joined the group, it was meeting at the Southern Pines Civic Club, and the membership had grown to about forty photographers. Smith recalls, “At the time, there were a handful of really top notch photographers, like Bill Stoffel, Chris Christensen and Bill Matthews. Now, with a membership of 127, we are loaded with talent.” These days there are seven Saturday workshops held annually by the club at the Horticultural Center at Sandhills Community College. Each year the club presents an award to a college student in the graphic arts department who plans to complete his or her education at a four-year institution. According to Christensen, once the club’s competitions were pretty rudimentary. “We just submitted four slides. We knew each other’s style of photography, so most of the time, we knew whose pictures were being judged, even though during the judging process no names

were given. To help in the process, in 1989 I built a light box to PSA standards to be used to show print photographs.” The six competitions at the Sandhills Photography Club reflect the gradual change from slides and prints, to prints and digital images, to the current digital images with only an occasional print. In addition, with computerized systems becoming generally available, the home darkroom that many of the members favored has become a thing of the past. “I had a first-class darkroom where I developed both color and black-and-white photos,” says Christensen, “and I miss the experience. Now it is a laundry room, and I develop in the office with Lightroom or Photoshop.” Jim Smith says there’s an ongoing debate between the purists who believe that using Photoshop and other computer-based programs should be limited to enhancement of color, lighting effects or cropping a photo to maximize its focus. On the other side are those who believe in using computer software to maximum effect, for instance, to add or delete certain elements of a photo and in the process produce an entirely different artistic image. As the art of photography has been changed by technological advances, the Sandhills Photography Club has stayed right in step with the times by designating two separate categories for the October competition — Optimized and Creative. This was the first time the competition varied from its set formula of Class A and Class B entries. Optimized photos were to be “as shot” or with post-editing that didn’t alter the integrity of the image, i.e., no items could be added. Creative photos could be produced without any limitations in post-processing. Enriching Our World Through Photography is the mantra of the Sandhills Photography Club, and the winners of the 2011 Stoffel Award have done just that, as they and the other members of this innovative and creative group of photographers continue to enhance the Sandhills community by expressing their own special talents. PS

February 2012 P�� PineStraw : The Art & Soul of the Sandhills

Debra Regula

2011 Stoffel Awards

Dave Verchick

Winners fall into two classes, A for advanced photographers and B for novices, and are picked based on a number of criteria, including improvement in photographic expertise and the total number of points won in the regular club competitions held throughout the year. Dave Verchick was the top winner in Class A, and in a surprising and unprecedented four-way tie in Class B, Alison Earl, Kathy Green, Diane McCall and Debra Regula took the honors. After presenting the cash prizes at the clubâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s Christmas meeting, Kaye Stoffel observed that her husband would have been thrilled to see such talented work from the Class B group.

Alison Earl

Diane McCall

K athy Green PineStraw : The Art & Soul of the Sandhills . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . February 2012

This kitchen has a place for every family activity, from cooking to Legos. The double islands divide space without obstruction. Shades of vanilla and chocolate provide a soothing backdrop for meals and entertaining.

February 2012 P�� PineStraw : The Art & Soul of the Sandhills

STORY OF A HOUSE

Going With The Flow

Modern family lives in the present tense By Deborah Salomon Photographs By John Gessner

Everyone gravitates to the Millers’ kitchen.

Carpe diem.

Helena and Chris Miller seize every day, in a house that Helena describes as transparent — obviously planned for children, togetherness, convenience, entertaining, work and family who come from afar and stay awhile. “That’s who we are,” Helena says. “That’s how we live.” Few antiques, no roots, no cobwebs. The beat is crisp, clean, Pottery Barn contemporary done in warm Earth tones. From outside, the brick bungalow in a newish Pinehurst neighborhood looks a reasonable size. Inside, space explodes. A startling renovation underlines the Millers’ priorities. An ordinary great room wouldn’t do; Helena decided to remove walls (none were load-bearing) separating living room, dining room, eat-in kitchen to create a 45-by-15 ft. great hall (15 feet shorter than a bowling alley) with conversation area, double-island kitchen, breakfast bar, dining space for 12 leading to the deck on one side and a mud/laundry/storage room on the other. “Wow” is guests’ universal response. The high ceiling above-ground basement, a find in Pinehurst, belongs to five-year-old Will and three-year-old Evie. The bright, carpeted playroom — bigger and better equipped than many daycares — includes two family bedrooms, a small kitchen and guest suite for Grandma visiting from Hawaii or Grandpa, from Switzerland. This is playdate paradise. Other mothers turn a friendly shade of green. “I love going to the Millers’ house,” says neighbor Melanie Coughlin, who visits often with her daughter. “It’s comfortable, never feels crowded.” PineStraw : The Art & Soul of the Sandhills . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . February 2012

Activities spill over from the kitchen to seating area — the only “living” room.

The scope of this renovation — one room, 45' long — draws “wows” from guests.

The Millers entertain often, family style. “We ask people to bring their kids. I hire a babysitter, and they all play downstairs,” Helena explains. Kiddie meals are served from the playroom kitchen. In good weather children exit through patio doors into the fenced yard with playhouse while their parents chat on the upstairs deck. Satchel, a sweet rescue mutt, completes this snapshot of the New Generation picture-perfect double-income family with a boy, a girl, a practical dream home and good ideas. It began with a wedding. “We came down (to Pinehurst) for a friend’s wedding and fell in love with the place,” Helena says. Chris, who grew up in Winston-Salem, had driven through but never formed an opinion. They contemplated relocation on the drive back to Washington. “It was four years after 9/11. We were tired of D.C., the stress, ready for a change,” says Helena, the quality assurance manager for a Washingtonbased federal government-sponsored information service for child welfare professionals. She could telecommute. Chris had a background in public health, ideal for the job he found as administrative director of community health services at FirstHealth Moore Regional Hospital. “Somebody was telling us to move,” Helena recalls. “We never looked back.” Helena grew up in Sweden, Switzerland and Hawaii. The Millers had no children, but Helena knew that buying a family house would be better than making two moves. Something clicked when they entered the house with the walk-out playroom, many windows, a large storage area and an office removed from the children’s space to minimize interruptions. Because even at home Helena

February 2012 P�� PineStraw : The Art & Soul of the Sandhills

gets dressed, puts on makeup and goes to work every morning. They relocated in 2005. Will was born in 2007, Evie in 2009. Babies did not change Helena’s social nature: “I love to entertain.” Thirty-five guests for a Christmas party, more on Super Bowl Sunday don’t faze her, nor do extended visits from her mother and sister. The three-yearold house was in excellent condition. However, after moving in, Helena quickly learned that her guests and their children congregated in the cramped kitchen. Living and dining rooms just wasted space. “It was a flow problem,” Helena concluded. The decisive moment came during a party for a mom’s group — the Burning Tree Babes — which drew 10 families with 20 children. “That was it,” Helena recalls. Removing walls and redistributing space is not for beginners. Helena hired kitchen planner Caroline Shillito to conceptualize her vision; the planning took six months, beginning with Shillito’s questionnaire: Left or right-handed? How many cooks and how tall? What cooking style? “We went through multiple floor plans to get the right flow,” Shillito says. Helena wanted a window seat, glass-front cabinets to display her grandfather’s plate collection, low drawers for kids’ utensils and games. With the formal dining room gone, they needed space for a 10-foot picnic-style table with a bench on one side (all the better for squeezing in kids), also a computer desk and, most important, that mud room between garage and kitchen. Here, every Miller has a cubby. A low bench with overhead hooks enables the children to stow their shoes and hang up outerwear, just like at school. Besides laundry equipment, Helena included an auxiliary pantry and display shelves for her collection of Swedish gingersnap tins, even drawers sized for gift paper rolls.

Helena Miller’s grandfather’s plate collection is on display but out of children’s reach.

Cubbies in mudroom prevent clutter.

Sunny basement playroom is just for kids.

“I’m not really a foodie,” Helena admits. A gas cooktop didn’t make the cut, a good thing since a propane installation would have been difficult. Shillito advised that two islands (one for cooking, the other for clean-up) work better, flow-wise, than one huge. Pathways on either side of the islands are unobstructed from one end of the space to the other. Interior designer Marsae Stone helped with colors and cabinets. “We aimed for warmth and openness.” Surprisingly, the footed custom-made cabinetry in soft vanilla with metal cup drawer pulls feels more American traditional than Ikea modern. The islands, roll-up textured window blinds and other accents contrast in chocolate brown. The floor throughout is a warm walnut-stained hardwood — “My favorite thing in the whole room,” Helena admits. Granite countertops, Chris’s choice, combine the colors. Helena opted out of the Sub-Zero/Wolf genre but did include a water-conserving touch faucet, a sculpturesque range hood and a convection-microwave. Her primary oven easily swallows a 25-pound turkey. The Millers selected their own furnishings with a few exceptions: A set of Swedish encyclopedias, several paintings, needlepoint chairs from Helena’s grandmother which stand in the front hallway. Helena used her inlaws’ dining room set before the dining room vanished. Sentimentality did not prevail. “We had a discussion and decided to sell it at a garage sale.” However, Chris couldn’t give up his rustic boyhood bedroom bureaus; Helena tucked them into the guest suite. “I had a hard time while the construction was going on,” Chris Miller says. “I’m more of a beginning and ending guy, not a process guy.” Even Helena admits to fright when the walls came down. “Oh my gosh, what are we doing?” she thought. Living with two toddlers (and working) for nine weeks in a torn-apart house requires organization. Organization is Helena’s strong suit. She asked contractor Russ Cribbs to build the playroom kitchen first. With that, plus the existing three bedrooms and two full baths, the family moved downstairs for the duration. They escaped to the beach during floor refinishing. And when the job was complete, on budget, even the Millers managed a “wow.” In 2010 Moore County Homebuilders Association awarded Travis Alfrey Construction Best Kitchen Renovation for the project. The Millers expect this renovation to grow with the family. What teenagers wouldn’t love a private downstairs apartment with bedrooms, kitchen and separate entrance? Then, puffy sofas will be replaced by futons, choo-choo trains with a computer games console, carpets with a dance floor. “I knew we needed a more functional space for our family, but I didn’t expect it to be so beautiful,” Helena beams. Chris likes the location, a short drive to his office, and the way the sun circles the house, streaming through the windows. “Pinehurst is a peaceful place,” he says. “This was a good move.” PS

A small but complete kitchen completes the lower level.

February 2012 P�� PineStraw : The Art & Soul of the Sandhills

Evie gets her princess room. Will opts for Spider-Man (below).

HomeStyles

By noaH salt

The Garden Philosopher “There is a continuity about the garden and an order of succession in the garden year which is deeply pleasing, and in one sense there are no breaks or divisions ... It is a bare place now, muted green and brown and black, a space of neat shapes and clean lines, to be looked out on from the warmth and shelter of the house. There is a great feeling of resolution and satisfaction at this time, when the year in the garden can be reviewed from the armchair. The next one may be planned and looked forward to, but now it is time for a rest and a natural, quiet breathing space.” — Susan Hill and Rory Stewart, Reflections from a Garden, 1995.

New on the Garden Bookshelf Out this month from Storey Publishing is The Fruit Gardener’s Bible, a splendid detailed resource for growing fruits and nuts in your home garden. With its focus on organic techniques, the lavishly illustrated guide by Lewis Hill and Leonard Perry provides essential and easy-to-grasp information on every aspect of the edible landscape in every region. A great companion to the Vegetable Gardener’s Bible. $24.95 softcover; $34.95 hardcover. See more at www.storey.com.

Out in the Garden This month is considered the most difficult month of all for gardeners, yet now is the perfect time to prepare your garden for the coming of spring and still enjoy some great color. Sasanqua camellias reach their blooming peak around the middle part of February, providing lavish blooms in a broad range from deep red to lilac and white. It’s still not too late to set out cold hardy pansies and Icelandic poppies. As your garden snoozes, the increasingly light and warmer days this month are ideal for planting bare root roses and finishing up your winter pruning, also a great time for dividing perennials like hosta and daylilies. This is also the time to plant young blueberry bushes for summer berries. Cool weather vegetables like kale, onions, lettuce and cabbage can also be planted. Indoors, start early warm-weather vegetables from seed and finalize your garden plan for 2012.

Sky Notes for February In the hours after sunset, come the clear cold skies of February, the hunter Orion and his faithful dog Sirius appear to chase Taurus the Bull across the southwest sky. Venus is also prominent in that quadrant, bright and yellow — the Evening Star. Sirius is said to be 25 times brighter than the sun yet so distant (8.6 light years) it appears dimmer in the night sky. On Orion’s right shoulder sits Betelgeuse, an old red (and some say dying) star whose hydrogen core has turned its shell into nuclear fusion, estimated to be 3,000 degrees celsius. The white hot star Rigel, defining the left knee of the hunter, is believed to be 13,000 degrees celsius on its surface.

Sunday

Monday

Tuesday

Wednesday FARM TO TABLE CO-OP SPRING/ SUMMER SEASON BEGINS LUNCH & LEARN ART CLASS CAPE FEAR REGIONAL THEATRE: Encore! 50 Years

Thursday

Friday

CAPE FEAR REGIONAL THEATRE: Encore! 50 Years

1 2 5 6 7 8 9 12 13 14 15 16 19 20 21 22 23 CAPE FEAR REGIONAL THEATRE: Encore! 50 Years

VALENTINE’S MOVIE MUSIC SOIREE ART CLASS

MID PINES MEN’S INVITATIONAL THE ROOSTER’S WIFE CONCERT TRIAD STAGE MAINSTAGE. New Music Part I: August Snow & Night Dance TRIAD STAGE MAINSTAGE. New Music Part I: August Snow & Night Dance SEAGROVE WINTERFEST

SANDHILLS PHOTOGRAPHY CLUB MEETING

ART WORKSHOP

A.A.R.P. TAX HELP

TRIAD STAGE MAINSTAGE. New Music Part I: August Snow & Night Dance

ART WORKSHOP

ART CLASS

WOMEN OF WEYMOUTH

THE ROOSTER’S WIFE CONCERT

TRIAD STAGE MAINSTAGE. New Music Part I: August Snow & Night Dance

SENIOR EVENT MOORE COUNTY LITERACY COUNCIL TUTOR TRAINING AFTERNOON TEA SERIES CLASSIC MOVIE NIGHT: Singin’ in the Rain

TRIAD STAGE MAINSTAGE. New Music Part I: August Snow & Night Dance

TRIAD STAGE MAINSTAGE. New Music Part II: Better Days PRE-SENIOR/ SENIOR/SUPER SENIOR WINTER TOURNAMENT

ART CLASS

A.A.R.P. TAX HELP

ART CLASS

ENGLISH SPEAKING UNION PRESENTS: “The History of Rock ‘n Roll” ROOSTER’S WIFE CONCERT SERIES

TRIAD STAGE MAINSTAGE. New Music Part I: August Snow & Night Dance

ANTI-VALENTINE’S DAY PARTY

FREE DESSERT DAYS

TRIAD STAGE MAINSTAGE. New Music Part I: August Snow & Night Dance PRE-SENIOR/ SENIOR/SUPER SENIOR WINTER TOURNAMENT TRIAD STAGE MAINSTAGE. New Music Part II: Better Days TRIAD STAGE MAINSTAGE. New Music Part I: August Snow & Night Dance

26 27 28 29 HISTORY LECTURE

THE ROOSTER’S WIFE CONCERT

CLASSICAL CONCERT SERIES

TRIAD STAGE MAINSTAGE. New Music Part I: August Snow & Night Dance

TRIAD STAGE MAINSTAGE. New Music Part II: Better Days

TRIAD STAGE MAINSTAGE. New Music Part II: Better Days ART CLASS

CULINARY CURE

ART CLASS

NATIONAL THEATER LIVE IN HD: Traveling Light

OLDIES & GOODIES FILM SERIES: The Band Wagon NORTH CAROLINA SYMPHONY TRIAD STAGE MAINSTAGE. New Music Part I: August Snow & Night Dance

FREE DESSERT DAYS

SPELLING BEE FOR LITERACY

TRIAD STAGE MAINSTAGE. New Music Part I: August Snow & Night Dance TRIAD STAGE MAINSTAGE. New Music Part II: Better Days FAMILY FUN NIGHT NC FARMERS SERIES

3 10 17 24

ART EXHIBIT OPENING RECEPTION, Debby Kline and Janet Garber ART EXHIBIT & OPENING RECEPTION, Betsey MacDonald JAZZY FRIDAYS

HEART ‘n SOUL OF JAZZ

MID PINES MEN’S INVITATIONAL FREE BLOOD PRESSURE SCREENING

TRIAD STAGE MAINSTAGE. New Music Part I: August Snow & Night Dance JAZZY FRIDAYS

LEORNARDO LIVE

TRIAD STAGE MAINSTAGE. New Music Part I: August Snow & Night Dance TRIAD STAGE MAINSTAGE. New Music Part II: Better Days SENIOR EVENT

FREE BLOOD PRESSURE SCREENING

Arts & Entertainment Calendar February 1

Saturday

CAPE FEAR REGIONAL THEATRE: Encore! 50 Years COMEDY SHOW, James Gregory A.A.R.P. TAX HELP

A.A.R.P. TAX HELP MID PINES MEN’S INVITATIONAL ART CLASS THE MET AT THE SUNRISE: Wagner’s Gotterdammerung HEART ‘n SOUL OF JAZZ CHOCOLATE FESTIVAL

11 18 25

A.A.R.P. TAX HELP

FARM TO TABLE CO-OP SPRING/SUMMER SEASON BEGINS. A community grassroots project connecting households with fresh, local produce and products from Sandhills farmers. 18-week Spring/Summer season. Memberships and produce box subscriptions available. Info: www.SandhillsFarm2Table.com. ART CLASS. 10 a.m. - 4 p.m. “Introduction To Soft Pastel” with Betty Hendrix. Learn the basics of application techniques and create a simple piece in class from life or from a photo of your own choosing. Cost: $50 plus $5 supply fee. Artists League of the Sandhills, 129 Exchange St., Aberdeen. Info: 910-944-3979. LUNCH & LEARN. 12:30 - 1:30 p.m. Learn about Peels and Exfoliations. Complimentary lunch, gift bag and specials. Laser Institute of Pinehurst, 80 Aviemore Court, Pinehurst. Info/RSVP: 910-295-1130 or pinehurstlaser.com. ART CLASS. 6 - 9 p.m. “Painting the Human Form Abstractly” with JJ Love. Learn to paint quickly and abstractly from life in this short pose class. Students will paint a live nude model, for a series of three to four paintings, increasing the abstraction and composition each time. Great stand alone class or as a precursor for Cubist Form Painting. Any paint media welcome. Cost: $30 plus $7.50 model fee. Artists League of the Sandhills, 129 Exchange St., Aberdeen. Info: 910-944-3979.

February 1 - 5

ART CLASS

CAPE FEAR REGIONAL THEATRE. Presenting Encore! 50 Years, which features musical performances highlighting 50 years of Cape Fear Regional Theatre in celebration of its golden anniversary. 1209 Hay St., Fayetteville. Info: 910-323-4233 or www.cfrt.org.

PIPE OPENER II COMBINED TEST

February 2

TRIAD STAGE MAINSTAGE. New Music Part I: August Snow & Night Dance

SEAGROVE WINTERFEST A.A.R.P. TAX HELP

TRIAD STAGE MAINSTAGE. New Music Part I: August Snow & Night Dance TRIAD STAGE MAINSTAGE. New Music Part II: Better Days THE MET AT THE SUNRISE. 1 p.m. Verdi’s Ernani

ART CLASS. 6 - 9 p.m. “Drawing and Sketching” with Pat McMahon. For beginning artists or those who have not had lessons in light, shading, perspective, and drawing. Cost: $60. Artists League of the Sandhills, 129 Exchange St., Aberdeen. Info: 910-944-3979 or www.artistleague.org.

February 3

ART EXHIBIT OPENING RECEPTION. 4 - 6 p.m. Something for Everyone features the works of artists Debby Kline and Janet Garber. Exhibit runs through March 17. Gallery hours: 12 - 3 p.m., Monday - Saturday. Artists League of the Sandhills, Exchange Street Gallery, 129 Exchange St., Aberdeen. Info: 910-944-3979 or www.artistleague.org. ART EXHIBIT & OPENING RECEPTION. 6 - 8 p.m. Featuring the artwork of Betsey MacDonald. Exhibit to run for entire month, 9 a.m. to 5 p.m., weekdays. Campbell House Galleries, 482 E. Connecticut Ave., Southern Pines. Info: 910692-2787 or www.mooreart.org. SENIOR EVENT: The Day the Music Died. 6 p.m. Watch the film La Bamba to commemorate the untimely death of singers Buddy Holly, Richie Valens and the Big Bopper, who all died in an airplane crash on February 3, 1959 at the height of their popularity. Heavy hors d’oeuvres will be served. Douglas Community Center, 1185 W. Pennsylvania Ave., Southern Pines. Info: 910-692-7376. JAZZY FRIDAYS. 7 - 10 p.m. Live jazz music and hors d’oeuvres, rain or shine. Gates open at 6 p.m. Admission: $10. Cypress Bend Vineyards & Winery, Riverton Rd., Wagram. Info: 910-369-0411. Key: Art

Music/Concerts

Dance/Theater

Film

NATIONAL WEAR RED DAY. Americans nationwide will wear red to show their support for women’s heart health.

February 4

COMEDY SHOW. 7 p.m. Featuring James Gregory. Tickets: $28/reserved; $23/general admission. Sunrise Theater, 250 NW Broad St., Southern Pines. Info: 910-6923611 or www.sunrisetheater.com.

February 4 - April 14

A.A.R.P. TAX HELP. 10 a.m. - 1 p.m., Tuesdays & Saturdays. Clients must register onsite; no prior appointments by phone. Southern Pines Public Library, 170 W. Connecticut Ave, Southern Pines. Info: 910-692-8235 or www.sppl.net.

February 6

VALENTINE’S MOVIE MUSIC SOIREE. 7 p.m. David Michael Wolff and friends in a Chamber Music Concert. Tickets: $40/priority reserved; $25/ general; $10/ student. Owens Auditorium, SCC. Info: 910-687 4746.

February 6 - 7

ART CLASS. 10 a.m. - 4 p.m. “Collaging Out of the Box” with Sandy Stratil. Give your creativity a jump-start by painting with paper. Two-day class will introduce students to collage using tissue paper, found objects/materials, and photo-transfers. Open to anyone; no experience required. Cost: $100 (plus $5 supply fee). Artists League of the Sandhills, 129 Exchange St., Aberdeen. Info: 910-944-3979 or www.artistleague.org.

February 7

SENIOR EVENT: Great American Pie Month. 12 p.m. Sample a variety of pies in honor of Great American Pie month. Cost: $2/residents; $4/non-residents. Register by Feb. 1. Douglas Community Center, 1185 W. Pennsylvania Ave., Southern Pines. Info: 910- 692-7376. MOORE COUNTY LITERACY COUNCIL TUTOR TRAINING. 1 - 4 p.m. Learn how you can help adult students improve their literacy skills. Sandhills Coalition, 1500 W. Indiana Ave, Southern Pines. Info: Pam at 910-692-5954 or pammclc@nc.rr.com. AFTERNOON TEA SERIES. 2:30 p.m. Betty Thomas Stork will share the floral arranging techniques of her prestigious career from Rose Bowl to White House. Cost: $25 (includes party favors and door prizes). Lady Bedford’s Tea Parlour, 21 Chinquapin Rd., Pinehurst. Info/RSVP: 910-255-0100. CLASSIC MOVIE NIGHT. 6 p.m. Singin’ in the Rain (1952) starring Gene Kelly, Donald O’Connor and Debbie Reynolds. Free showing; refreshments available. The Fair Barn, 200 Beulah Hill Road South, Pinehurst. Info: 910-295-0166.

February 8

ART CLASS. 10 a.m. - 4 p.m. “Intermediate/Advanced Colored Pencil” with Betty Hendrix. Students should have experience with colored pencil or should have taken an introductory class. Learn how using mylar (or acrylic) support for your work instead of paper can be a way of avoiding the texture that keeps coming through with many paper supports or the need for many layers and burnishing. Cost: $50 (plus $5 supply fee). Artists League of the Sandhills, 129 Exchange St., Aberdeen. Info: 910-944-3979 or www.artistleague.org.

Literature/Speakers

Fun

History

Sports

www.sapc.edu/saush/inqpine.php • affordable way to complete your bachelor’s degree • majors in Business Administration, Elementary Education and Interdisciplinary Studies • classes available on the campus of Sandhills Community College and online. • credit evaluation for military training and prior learning For more information, contact Professor James Miles Director, St. Andrews @ Sandhills 910-695-3888 • milesjr@sapc.edu

February 2012 P�� PineStraw : The Art & Soul of the Sandhills

CA L E N DA R ENGLISH SPEAKING UNION PRESENTS. 6 p.m. “The History of Rock ‘n Roll” by Dr. John Turner. Country Club of North Carolina, Pinehurst. Membership/ Reservations/Info: 910-235-0635 or bmoc@embarqmail.com. ROOSTER’S WIFE CONCERT SERIES. 6:45 p.m. Live music from Bearfoot. Doors open at 6 p.m. Poplar Knight Spot, 114 Knight Street, Aberdeen. Info: 910-9447502 or www.theroosterswife.org.

Flavors of the world presented on small plates

Now open Mondays!

February 8 & 15

ART CLASS. 6 - 9 p.m. “Cubist Form Painting” with J.J. Love. Picasso looked at the world in a different way, and in doing so created a new art form that shows multiple perspectives of an image, while also breaking down the form into simpler shapes. Learn to sketch and then paint like a cubist over the course of two days. Any paint media welcome. Cost: $60 (plus $15 model fee). Artists League of the Sandhills, 129 Exchange St., Aberdeen. Info: 910-944-3979 or www.artistleague.org.

February 9

NATIONAL THEATER LIVE IN HD. 2 & 7 p.m. Traveling Light. Sunrise Theater, 250 NW Broad St., Southern Pines. Tickets/Info: 910-692-3611 or www.sunrisetheater.com. OLDIES & GOODIES FILM SERIES. 2:30 - 4:30 p.m. Presenting The Band Wagon (1953). Musical comedy starring Fred Astaire and Cyd Charisse. Complimentary cup of tea. Southern Pines Public Library, 170 W. Connecticut Ave, Southern Pines. Info: 910-692-8235 or www.sppl.net. PINEHURST FORUM PRESENTS 6 p.m. Rozlyn Sorrell in concert. Carolina Hotel, Pinehurst Resort. Tickets/Info: www.pinehurstforum.org.

Early Bird Special Monday through Thursday 5pm till 6:30pm $25 per person Set Menu Choose three plates and a glass of red or white wine.

910.725.1910 290 W pennsylvania ave p

NORTH CAROLINA SYMPHONY. 8 p.m. Travel across Britten’s stormy North Sea, through Elgar’s most elegiac concerto and into the brash and bold Firebird Suite. Joana Carneiro, conductor; Johannes Moser, cello. Pinecrest High School Auditorium, Southern Pines. Tickets/Info: NC Symphony Box Office at 877-627-6724 or www.ncsymphony.org.

February 10

HEART ‘n SOUL OF JAZZ. 8 p.m. Arts Council of Moore County and Pinehurst Resort present the 27th annual Heart ’n Soul of Jazz featuring Pat Bergeson & Quartet starring vocalist Annie Sellick. Performance followed by festive Meet-the-Artists Dessert reception. Tickets: $65/one night; $110/both nights (see Feb. 11). Cardinal Ballroom, Carolina Hotel, Pinehurst. Info/RSVP: www.ShopPinehurst.com or 910-235-8415. FREE BLOOD PRESSURE SCREENING. 8 - 11 a.m. Know your numbers. Reid Heart Center, 120 Page Road North. Info: 910-715-1489 or 800-213-3284.

February 10-12

MID PINES MEN’S INVITATIONAL. Format will be 36-hole Fourball Competition; field limited to the first 56 teams. Mid Pines Inn and Golf Club, 1010 Midland Road, Southern Pines. Reservations/Info: 910-692-9362 or bob. esworthy@rossresorts.com.

February 11

ART CLASS. 10 a.m. - 3 p.m. “Introduction to Chinese Brush Painting” with Loretta Moskal. No experience necessary. Class covers the use and versatility of the Ink Stick, the Ink Stone, the Paper, and the Brush. Class also covers strokes that the artist needs to master: the Four Gentlemen. Painting demonstrations, practice handouts, and personal help will be provided. Cost: $40 (plus $5 supply fee). Artists League of the Sandhills, 129 Exchange St., Aberdeen. Info: 910-944-3979 or www.artistleague.org. Key: Art Music/Concerts Dance/Theater Film Literature/Speakers Fun History Sports PineStraw : The Art & Soul of the Sandhills . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . February 2012

CA L E N DA R CHOCOLATE FESTIVAL. 10 a.m. - 4 p.m. Celebrate chocolate and charity. Festival includes chocolate cake bake-off with area professional chefs and bakers, cupcake competition (open to the public), cocoa cafe lunch, children’s activities and a chocolate themed gift boutique. Benefits Family Promise, Friend to Friend, Life Care Pregnancy Center and other United Methodist women’s projects. Pinehurst United Methodist Church, 4111 Airport Rd., Pinehurst. Info: pinehurstchocolatefestival.vpweb.com THE MET AT THE SUNRISE. 12 p.m. Wagner’s Gotterdammerung. With its cataclysmic climax, the Met’s new Ring cycle, directed by Robert Lepage, comes to its resolution. Deborah Voigt stars as Brünnhild and Gary Lehman is Siegfried — the star-crossed lovers doomed by fate. James Levine conducts. Running Time: 6.5 hours. Tickets: $22. The Sunrise Theater, 250 NW Broad Street, Southern Pines. Info: 910-6923611 or www.sunrisetheater.com. HEART ‘n SOUL OF JAZZ. 8 p.m. Featuring the Brian Newman Quartet. See Feb. 10 for more information. Cardinal Ballroom, Carolina Hotel, Pinehurst. Info/RSVP: www.ShopPinehurst.com or 910-235-8415.

February 12

THE ROOSTER’S WIFE. 6:45 p.m. Live music from Pierce Pettis, Grace Pettis. Doors open at 6 p.m. Poplar Knight Spot, 114 Knight Street, Aberdeen. Info: 910-9447502 or www.theroosterswife.org.

February 12 - March 17

TRIAD STAGE MAINSTAGE. New Music Part I: August Snow & Night Dance. A Family Trilogy by Reynolds Price, directed by Preston Lane. Taw Avery gives her husband, Neal, an ultimatum — he must put his past behind or she will leave him forever. With less than a day to decide, they each make a journey of self-discovery to find the meaning of commitment Key:

Art

Music/Concerts

Dance/Theater

Film

and sacrifice. Their story continues at the end of WWII. Tickets vary. Triad Stage, 232 S. Elm St., Greensboro. Info/ Tickets/Showtimes: 336-272-0160 or www.triadstage.org.

February 13

SANDHILLS PHOTOGRAPHY CLUB MEETING. 7 9 p.m. Digital competition on the topic of “Still Life.” Members may enter 2 images taken within the last 3 years. Guests welcome. Christ Fellowship Church, Midland & Pee Dee Roads, Southern Pines. Info: www.sandhillsphotoclub.org.

February 13 - 14

ART WORKSHOP. Exploring Encaustic Workshop by Dianne Rodwell. Monday (1 - 6 p.m.); Tuesday (11 a.m. - 6 p.m.). Discover modern approaches to encaustic using paper, wood, Ampersand panels or ceramic tile as the base. Two-day workshop requires purchase of a starter kit. Cost: $425 /member; $475/ nonmember. Artists League of the Sandhills, 129 Exchange St., Aberdeen. Info/RSVP: 910-944-3979 or www.artistleague.org.

February 14

MOORE COUNTY LITERACY COUNCIL TUTOR TRAINING. 1 - 4 p.m. Learn how you can help adult students improve their literacy skills. Sandhills Coalition, 1500 W. Indiana Ave, Southern Pines. Info: Pam at 910-692-5954 or pammclc@nc.rr.com. PIZZA WITH PIZZAZZ. 5 - 6 p.m. Students grades 6-8 are invited to make duct tape roses and iPod valentines — and enjoy free pizza. Southern Pines Public Library, 170 W. Connecticut Ave, Southern Pines. Info: 910-692-8235 or www.sppl.net. VALENTINES DANCE AT THE WINERY. 7 - 10 p.m. Heavy hors d’oeuvres, desserts and live music. Tickets required. Cypress Bend Vineyards & Winery, Riverton Rd., Wagram. Info: 910-369-0411. Literature/Speakers

Fun

History

February 15

ART CLASS. 10 a.m. - 4 p.m. Intermediate/Advanced Soft Pastel on Canson Mi-Teintes Paper with Betty Hendrix. MiTeintes papers come in many tints/colors and have a smooth tooth side and a rough texture side. Learn about the differences and how to select the side you wish to use and why. Emphasis on planning a color scheme, use of values, and how to execute your plan. Class requirements: experience with pastel or introductory class. Cost: $50 (plus $5 supply fee). Artists League of the Sandhills, 129 Exchange St., Aberdeen. Info: 910-944-3979 or www.artistleague.org. ANTI-VALENTINE’S DAY PARTY. 5:30 - 6:30 p.m. The Teen Advisory Board invites students grades 9-12 to join the fun. Catapult candy hearts, revamp the covers of romance novels and enjoy free pizza. Southern Pines Public Library, 170 W. Connecticut Ave, Southern Pines. Info: 910-692-8235 or www.sppl.net. FREE BLOOD PRESSURE SCREENING. 2 - 4:30 p.m. Know your numbers. Reid Heart Center, 120 Page Road North. Info: 910-715-1489 or 800-213-3284.

February 15 - 16

FREE DESSERT DAYS. 11:30 a.m. - 2 p.m. Free selected dessert. The Sandhills Woman’s Exchange, 15 Azalea Rd., Pinehurst. Info: 910-295-4677.

February 16

SPELLING BEE FOR LITERACY. 7 p.m. An evening of light-hearted competition to benefit Moore County Literacy Council. Three-member teams compete for Best Spelling Team trophy, Best Team Costumes, and Most Team Spirit. Free admission; donations welcome. Owens Auditorium, Sandhills Community College. Info: Moore County Literacy Council at 910-692-5954.

Sports

February 2012 P�� PineStraw : The Art & Soul of the Sandhills

CA L E N DA R

Resale Retail

ART EXHIBIT OPENING RECEPTION. 4 - 6 p.m. Secular Art With Sacred Meaning, featuring the paintings of Ray Martin. Exhibit runs through March 27. Sandhills Community College, Hasting Gallery/Boyd Library. Info: 910-695-3819.

February 17

JAZZY FRIDAYS. 7 - 10 p.m. Live jazz music and hors d’oeuvres, rain or shine. Gates open at 6 p.m. Admission is $10/person. Cypress Bend Vineyards & Winery, Riverton Rd., Wagram. Info: 910-369-0411.

Feb. 17-19

LEORNARDO LIVE. 7:30 p.m. (Fri. & Sat.); 2:30 p.m. (Sat. & Sun.) An HD presentation of the once-in-a-lifetime exhibit: Leonardo da Vinci: Painter in the Court of Milan, as captured at the UK National Gallery. Tickets: $15/adults; $12/students. Sunrise Theater, 250 NW Broad St., Southern Pines. Info: 910-692-8501 or www.sunrisetheater.com.

ENGLISH

HUNTERS

WESTERN

DRIVING

DRESSAGE

February 18 ART CLASS. 10 a.m. - 4 p.m. “How Do I Begin?” with Linda Bruening. Transferring ideas to the canvas and beginning to paint. Class aimed at those who have started working in oils but are having problems with the book instructions, understanding what the terms mean or the practical applications. Cost: $100. Artists League of the Sandhills, 129 Exchange St., Aberdeen. Info: 910-944-3979 or www.artistleague.org.

barndoorconsignments.com

LOCATED BEHIND ABERDEEN SUPPLY 104 KNIGHT ST., ABERDEEN, NC 910-944-5011

PIPE OPENER II COMBINED TEST. Carolina Horse Park, just off Hwy 211, between Aberdeen and Raeford. Info: 910-875-2074 or www.carolinahorsepark.com.

February 18 - 19

SEAGROVE WINTERFEST. Freshly stocked shelves of pottery await. Several potters will debut new shapes and colors of their works. Participating Seagrove pottery shops. Info: ncpottery122@embarqmail.com or 336-873-7887.

February 19

THE ROOSTER’S WIFE. 6:45 p.m. Live music from The Gibson Brothers. Doors open 6 p.m. Poplar Knight Spot, 114 Knight Street, Aberdeen. Info: 910-944-7502 or www.theroosterswife.org.

February 20

ART CLASS. 10 a.m. - 3:30 p.m. “Follow the Leader” with Joan Williams. If you ever thought you might like to try painting in oil, but lacked confidence or felt you did not have the skills, then this is the class for you. All materials will be provided; come expecting to have an exciting experience and go home with a completed painting. Cost: $70. Artists League of the Sandhills, 129 Exchange St., Aberdeen. Info: 910-944-3979 or www.artistleague.org. WOMEN OF WEYMOUTH. 10 a.m. “Tea With George and Martha Washington at Mount Vernon,” presented by Helen O. Von Salzen. Weymouth Center, 555 E. Connecticut Ave., Southern Pines. Info: 910-692-6261.

February 21

ART CLASS. 9 a.m. - 1:30 p.m. “Ink Refresher” with Karen Walker. Been a while since your last ink class? Review the basic techniques for applying and lifting ink, adding texture and more. Some ink painting experience required. Cost: $40. Artists League of the Sandhills, 129 Exchange St., Aberdeen. Info: 910-944-3979 or www.artistleague.org.

February 21 - 22

PRE-SENIOR/SENIOR/SUPER SENIOR WINTER TOURNAMENT. For ages 45+. Sponsored through the Key: Art Music/Concerts Dance/Theater Film Literature/Speakers Fun History Sports PineStraw : The Art & Soul of the Sandhills . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . February 2012

CA L E N DA R Carolinas Golf Association. Pine Needles and Mid Pines, Southern Pines. Info: 910-673-1000 or www.carolinasgolf.org.

Creek Farm. Cost: $29+. Elliott’s On Linden, 905 Linden Rd., Pinehurst. Info/RSVP: 910-215-0775.

February 21 - March 18

REID HEART CENTER EDUCATION SERIES. 5:30 p.m. Join Art Edgergton, M.D. to learn more about heart disease. Reid Heart Center Lobby, 120 Page Road North. Info/registration: 910-715-1478.

TRIAD STAGE MAINSTAGE. New Music Part II: Better Days. A Family Trilogy by Reynolds Price, directed by Preston Lane. Thirty years after the events in Night Dance. Tickets vary. Triad Stage, 232 S. Elm St., Greensboro. Info/ Tickets/Showtimes: 336-272-0160 or www.triadstage.org.

February 22 ART CLASS. 10 a.m. - 4 p.m. “Intermediate/Advanced Colored Pencil on Dark Paper” with Betty Hendrix. Learn how to plan your mood or emotional content and then how to build the light areas to make them work. Class requirements: experience with colored pencil or introductory class. Cost: $50 (plus $5 supply fee). Artists League of the Sandhills, 129 Exchange St., Aberdeen. Info: 910-944-3979 or www.artistleague.org.

February 23

SENIOR EVENT: Road Trip to Temple Theatre. 11 a.m. - 5 p.m. The Odd Couple. Cost: $25/residents; $50/nonresidents (includes ticket and transportation). Register by Feb. 1. Douglas Community Center, 1185 W. Pennsylvania Ave., Southern Pines. Info: 910-692-7376. FAMILY FUN NIGHT. 5:30 p.m. Kids grades 3-5 and their parents are invited to bone up on fossil facts and become amateur paleontologists. Sift for fossilized shark teeth and more. Dinner provided. Southern Pines Public Library, 170 W. Connecticut Ave, Southern Pines. Info: 910-6928235 or www.sppl.net. NC FARMERS SERIES. 6 p.m. Unique demonstrations, discussion and a four-course dinner. Featuring Cane Key:

Art

Music/Concerts

Dance/Theater

Film

February 24

SENIOR EVENT: National Tortilla Chip Day. 12 p.m. Celebrate this corny holiday with a handful of crunchy, tasty corn chips, homemade salsa and guacamole. Cost: $2/residents; $4/ non-residents. Register by Feb. 20. Douglas Community Center, 1185 W. Pennsylvania Ave., Southern Pines. Info: 910-692-7376. FREE BLOOD PRESSURE SCREENING. 8 - 11 a.m. Know your numbers. Reid Heart Center, 120 Page Road North. Info: 910-715-1489 or 800-213-3284.

February 25

THE MET AT THE SUNRISE. 1 p.m. Verdi’s Ernani. Angela Meade takes center stage in Verdi’s thrilling early gem. Salvatore Licitra is her mismatched lover, and all-star Verdians Dmitri Hvorostovsky and Ferruccio Furlanetto round out the cast. Tickets: $22. The Sunrise Theater, 250 NW Broad Street, Southern Pines. Info: 910-692-3611 or www.sunrisetheater.com.

February 26

HISTORY LECTURE. 2 p.m. Learn about the early church and church architecture in Moore County from historian and educator Milton J. Sills. Free event. First Baptist Church, 200 E. New York Ave., Southern Pines. Info: Moore County Historical Association at 910-692-2051. Literature/Speakers

Fun

History

HISTORY LECTURE. 3 p.m. “From Civil Rights to Freedom Grove” by David Cecelski and Reginald Hildebrand. Lecture and video presentation covers the struggle for freedom in North Carolina, a reflection of where we’ve been and where we’re going. Reception follows. Free event. Weymouth Center, 555 E. Connecticut Ave., Southern Pines. Info: 910-692-6261. THE ROOSTER’S WIFE. 6:45 p.m. Live music from Louise Mosrie. Doors open at 6 p.m. Poplar Knight Spot, 114 Knight Street, Aberdeen. Info: 910-944-7502 www.theroosterswife.org.

February 27

ART CLASS. 1 - 4 p.m. “Understanding Light and Shadow” with Betty DiBartolomeo. Breaking down a landscape, portrait or still life into value patterns is one of the most important things an artist can do to prepare for a successful painting. Explore all possibilities of light and shadow patterns and finally how to relate those values to color. Cost: $60. Artists League of the Sandhills, 129 Exchange St., Aberdeen. Info: 910-944-3979 or www.artistleague.org. CLASSICAL CONCERT SERIES. 8 p.m. Featuring Alexander Kobrin, piano. Since receiving the prestigious Gold Medal at the Twelfth Van Cliburn International Piano Competition in 2005, Alexander Kobrin has solidified his reputation as a rising star to remember. Tickets: $25. Sunrise Theater, Broad Street, Southern Pines. Info/ RSVP: 910-692-2787.

February 28

DOCUMENTARY FILM. 7 p.m. Green Fire, a documentary about the life of Aldo Leopold. Tickets: $7. Sunrise Theater, 250 NW Broad St., Southern Pines. Info: 910-692-3611.

Sports

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February 2012 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . PineStraw : The Art & Soul of the Sandhills

 Sanford

CA L E N DA R

February 29

ART CLASS. 10 a.m. - 4 p.m. “Intermediate/Advanced Soft Pastel on Sanded Papers” with Betty Hendrix. Sanded papers lend themselves to layering techniques as they will grab and hold much more pigment than other papers. Learn about the various sanded papers available and how to apply your own colorful underpainting. This support and technique lends itself to a painterly, expressive style. Cost: $50 (plus $7 supply fee). Artists League of the Sandhills, 129 Exchange St., Aberdeen. Info: 910-944-3979 or www.artistleague.org. CULINARY CURE. Classic Dining. “Paris Bistro” features a 4-course Prix Fixe menu. Cost: $32+. Elliott’s On Linden, 905 Linden Rd., Pinehurst. Info/RSVP: 910-215-0775. FREE BLOOD PRESSURE SCREENING. 2 - 4:30 p.m. Know your numbers. Reid Heart Center, 120 Page Road North. Info: 910-715-1489 or 800-213-3284.

March 3

CHILI COOK-OFF. 12 - 5 p.m. Chili cook-off to benefit the Spay and Neuter Veterinary Clinic of the Sandhills. Cost: $25 (enter chili); $5 (come and taste). Unlimited beer cups for $10. American Legion Hall, 211 E. Main St., Aberdeen. Info: (910) 692-3499.

Weekly Happenings Tuesdays

FREE YOGA FOR PST VETS. 6 p.m. Yoga for retired veterans who suffer from Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. No previous yoga experience necessary. Yoga Massage in the Sandhills, 5374 Niagara Carthage Rd., Southern Pines. Info: Mary Ann at 910-949-2162.

Wednesdays

CHILDREN’S STORY TIME. 1:30 p.m. Given Memorial Library, 150 Cherokee Rd., Pinehurst. Info: 910-295-6022. PRESCHOOL STORYTIME. 3:30 - 4 p.m. Bring infants and toddlers (ages birth through 5 years) for stories, songs and fun. Southern Pines Public Library, 170 W. Connecticut Ave, Southern Pines. Info: 910-692-8235 or www.sppl.net.

Saturdays

COOKING DEMO. 12 & 2 p.m. Fun facts and recipes on a weekly food topic/theme. “Brussels Sprouts” (2/4); “Wild World of Chocolate” (2/11); “Mardi Gras” (2/18); “Cane Creek Pork” (2/25). Elliott’s Provision Company, 905 Linden Rd., Pinehurst. Info: 910-215-0775. MEET THE ARTIST AT WORK. 12 - 3 p.m. Featuring artists Caroline Love (2/4); Deane Billings (2/11) and Jane Casnellie (2/18 and 2/25). Hollyhocks Art Gallery, 905 Linden Road, Pinehurst. Info: 910-255-06645 or www.hollyhocksartgallery.com.

Art Galleries BROADHURST GALLERY, 2212 Midland Rd., Pinehurst, showcases works by nationally recognized artists such as Louis St. Lewis, Lula Smith, Shawn Morin, Rachel Clearfield, Judy Cox and Jason Craighead. Meet-the-artist opportunities are available. Tuesday-Friday, 11 a.m. - 5 p.m., and Saturday, 1-4 p.m. (910) 295-4817, www.broadhurstgallery.com. ART NUTZ AND RAVEN POTTERY, 125 SW Broad St., Southern Pines. Come see the potter at work. Features art, local pottery from many potters, handmade jewelry, glass and more. Monday-Saturday 10 a.m. - 5 p.m. (910) 6951555, www.ravenpottery.com. ARTIST ALLEY features juried art and fine crafts from local and regional artists, 167 E. New Hampshire Ave., Southern Pines. 11 a.m. - 5 p.m., Monday-Saturday. (910) 692-6077. Key: Art Music/Concerts Dance/Theater Literature/Speakers Fun History Sports

Film

CA L E N DA R ARTISTS LEAGUE OF THE SANDHILLS, located at 129 Exchange St. in historic Aberdeen. Exhibit hours are noon - 3 p.m., Monday-Saturday. (910) 944-3979. THE CAMPBELL HOUSE GALLERIES, 482 E. Connecticut Ave., Southern Pines, is open 9 a.m. - 5 p.m., Monday-Friday, and every third weekend of the month from 2-4 p.m. (910) 692-4356, www.mooreart.org. THE GALLERY AT SEVEN LAKES, a gallery dedicated to local artists. The Gallery is open on Wednesday and Thursday each week from 1 p.m. to 4 p.m. 1145 Seven Lakes Drive, The St. Mary Magdalen building. Just 9 miles from the Pinehurst Traffic Circle up 211. HASTINGS GALLERY is located in the Katharine L. Boyd Library at Sandhills Community College, Pinehurst. Gallery hours are 7:45 a.m. - 9 p.m., Monday-Thursday; 7:45 a.m. - 5 p.m. Friday; and 8:30 a.m. - 2 p.m. Saturday. HOLLYHOCKS ART GALLERY, 905 Linden Road, Pinehurst, features original artwork by local artists Diane Kraudelt, Carol Rotter, Mary Frey, Jean Frost, Morgen Kilbourn and artist/owner Jane Casnellie. Meet the Artists, Saturdays, Noon to 3 p.m. Open Monday-Saturday 10:30 a.m. - 9:30 p.m. (910) 255-0665, www.hollyhocksartgallery.com. THE OLD SILK ROUTE, 113 West Main St., Aberdeen specializes in Asian original art, including silk paintings, tapestries, Buddhist Thangkas and Indian paper miniatures. Open Monday, Thursday, Friday and Saturday 11 a.m. - 4 p.m. (910) 295-2055. SEAGROVE CANDLE COMPANY, 116 N.W. Broad St., Southern Pines, showcases the arts and crafts of the Sandhills and Seagrove area. Open 10 a.m. - 5 p.m., Monday, Wednesday-Saturday. (910) 695-0029. SKY ART GALLERY, 602 Magnolia Dr., Aberdeen, is open 10 a.m. -

5 p.m. Tuesday-Saturday. (910) 944-9440, www.skyartgallery.com. STUDIO 590, located in a historic log cabin, is the working studio and gallery of artists Betty DiBartolomeo and Harry Neely. Studio 590 offers fine oil paintings, commissions and instruction. Studio 590 is located by the pond in the Dowd Cabin, 590 Dowd Circle in Pinehurst South. (910) 639-9404. WHITE HILL GALLERY, 407 U.S. 15-501, Carthage, offers a variety of pottery. (910) 947-6100. THE DOWNTOWN GALLERY (inside Flynne’s Coffee Bar) is located at 115 NE Broad St. in downtown Southern Pines. Ever-changing array of local and regional art, pottery and other handmade items. (910) 693-1999. LADY BEDFORD’S TEA PARLOUR, located at 25 Chinquapin Road in Pinehurst, is featuring local artist Nancy Campbell. Original oil and watercolor paintings are on display inside the tea shop. Open Tuesday - Saturday 8 a.m. - 5 p.m. (910) 255-0100, www.ladybedfords.com.

Nature Centers

SANDHILLS HORTICULTURAL GARDENS (32 acres of gardens). The Sandhills Horticultural Gardens are handicapped-accessible. Daylight hours year-round. (910) 695-3882. WEYMOUTH WOODS SANDHILLS NATURE PRESERVE (898 acres). 1024 Ft. Bragg Road, Southern Pines. (910) 692-2167. VILLAGE ABORETUM. 35 acres of land adjoining the Village Hall on Magnolia Road, Pinehurst. (910) 295-1900.

Historical Sites

tours for groups by appointment. 1020 Bethesda Road, Aberdeen. (910) 944-1319. BRYANT HOUSE AND MCLENDON CABIN. Tours by appointment. (910) 692-2051 or (910) 673-0908. CARTHAGE HISTORICAL MUSEUM. Sundays, 2-5 p.m. or by appointment. Located at Rockingham and Saunders streets, Carthage. (910) 947-2331. HOUSE IN THE HORSESHOE. Open year-round. Hours vary. 288 Alston House Road (10 miles north of Carthage), Sanford. (910) 947-2051. MALCOLM BLUE FARM AND MUSEUM. 1-4 p.m. Wednesday-Saturday. Group tours can be arranged by appointment. (910) 944-7558 or (910) 603-2739. NORTH CAROLINA LITERARY HALL OF FAME. 10 a.m. - 2 p.m., Monday-Friday, at the Weymouth Center for Arts and Humanities, 555 E. Connecticut Ave., Southern Pines. (910) 692-6261. SHAW HOUSE PROPERTY. Open 1-4 p.m. TuesdayFriday. (910) 692-2051. TUFTS ARCHIVES. 9:30 a.m. - 5 p.m., Monday-Friday, and 9:30 a.m. - 12:30 p.m. Saturday. (910) 295-3642. UNION STATION. Open 8 a.m. - 5 p.m. Located in downtown Aberdeen. (910) 944-5902. SANDHILLS WOMAN’S EXCHANGE LOG CABIN Open 10 a.m. - 3 p.m. (910) 295-4677 To add an event, send us an e-mail at pinestraw@thepilot.com by the first of the month prior to the event.

BETHESDA CHURCH AND CEMETERY. Guided

February 2012 P�� PineStraw : The Art & Soul of the Sandhills

PineNeedler Answers

From page 95 the birds.... Let me tell ya "bout Solution:

H I F I R O B I U N D O E L U D G N A W C E R E A S K P A A D O R O B C A R D I N A L C L A Y B E F T I L E G E T A B U L G E M I E N O N A F A I L S I G N I T I O N C H O S N I N A K I O S C L O D Y O K E H E W

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E A G L E

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February 2012 P�� PineStraw : The Art & Soul of the Sandhills

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SandhillSeen Elements of Art - December 8, 2011 Photographs by Jeanne Paine

Joanne Kilpatrick, Fran Drake, Christina Robinson and Meridith Martens

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February 2012 P�� PineStraw : The Art & Soul of the Sandhills

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Puttin’ on the Ritz - Top Hat & Tails Benefit Gala Monday, December 5, 2011 Photographs by Al & Annette Daniels Linda Vernier, Diane Galusky Noelle McIntyre, Pat Thomas, Gail Clay Stacy Mabe, Laurie Birdsong

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February 2012 P�� PineStraw : The Art & Soul of the Sandhills

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THOUGHTS FROM THE MAN SHED

On a Frozen Pond

Winter’s cold and a child’s hope that the snow would fly

By Geoff Cutler

This morning the thermometer reads 15

degrees. It blew last night, but now there’s not a breath. Two cardinals fly by, their wings looking as if they’ll crack. The sun shines bright, its heat utterly neutered by this arctic freeze. Leaves of rhododendron and azalea have curled to cocoons. Nobody wants to work outside today, so they will stay indoors and try to keep warm. The Man Shed stove needs feeding like a coal box on a steamship. It’s clicking and ticking away behind me and it glows red hot inside. These fingers stab clumsily across the keyboard. They resist awakening, the early stages of arthritis unwilling to retreat in this cold. Mornings like this put me in mind of youth and the North and days when cold meant nothing to children who went to bed wishing for a fresh blanket of snow. If it came and drifted tall, we jumped off the balcony outside my mother’s room, landing soft, the snow finding its way under our scarves to melt cold on the skin of our necks. We whooped and, treading a white trail behind us, ran up the stairs and through her room to do it again. She did not scold us, even as the snow turned to puddles on the rug. And later, she took us to the pond and we slogged across the fairway in our boots, our skates tied together and dangling over the hockey sticks we rested on our shoulders, and the billowing snow got on our faces and left designs on the ground. The fires inside the pond house roared and the coals burned white hot. Sometimes the older ones didn’t wait for us, and then the men who tended the fires helped us lace our skates, and when we stepped onto the ice, our ankles turned in. To hold ourselves up, we used our sticks as anchors, and we stabbed at

the ice in our skates, going nowhere. If someone shot us the puck, it hit our sticks and knocked us over. Our bottoms turned white and cold. A brother or sister would haul us up by our parkas, our ankles would straighten then, and they pushed us forward across the ice, gliding fast now into the wind. She called us for lunch, the sun as high as it would get that day. Almost warm. And the icicles hanging from the pond house gutters dripped on our heads as we went in for wicker baskets filled with sandwiches and hot chocolate. Shorn of skates, we sat by the fire. We ate peanut butter and jelly and watched the steam rise off our woolen socks. Years passed and we learned to skate and play hockey. Saturdays early, my father woke long before the sun and had me dress, check my duffel once, then check it once again. Even today, the nightmare is the same as it was so many years ago. I wake with a start. We have traveled far on the bus. We get to the game. My skates are not there. They are where I left them, where they should not have been. The coach is red with fury and cusses a storm. So I go through a top to bottom checklist: Helmet, check. Chin guard, check. Mouthpiece, check. Jersey, check. Shoulder pads, check. Elbow pads, check. Hockey gloves, check. Hockey pants with suspenders attached, check. Cup, check. Check cup again, check. Garter belt, check. Hockey socks, check. Knee pads, check. Shin pads, check. Skates, check. Tape, two rolls, black and white, check. two sticks, check. Hockey is not for forgetful children. It’s still dark and the car struggles to warm. He drives. I shiver. The rink is outdoors and the other kids are there already. We lace our skates by ourselves now and you can see your breath. It’s Pee Wee hockey and the sun peeks over the tree line as we wind sprint from one end of the ice to the other. “Wrist shots only” yells the coach, but we want to slap it hard from the blue line, just like Bobby Orr. Then to the Rexall Drug to sit on the stools. We eat crullers and my dad dips his in a cup of coffee. There are other men there. They are even more jovial than a normal Saturday morning. The Bruins beat the Rangers 4-3 in overtime. Esposito scores the winner, a dandy between the goalie’s legs. The door’s bells jingle and Mr. Almy comes in. He says hello and tousles my sweat-damp hair. There’s a mud room off the kitchen. At the end of the day we hang our coats, scarves, hats and mittens there. We take off our boots. The light is not good and the floor is wet from melted snow, and we step in the small puddles because we cannot see them. My father has all the fires burning bright and we sit by them and look forward to the next day. PS Geoff Cutler is owner of Cutler Tree LLC in Southern Pines. He is a regular contributor to both The Pilot and PineStraw. He can be reached at geoffcutler@embarqmail.com.

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February PineNeedler Let me tell ya ’bout the birds... ACROSS 1 Audio system 5 Red-breasted bird 10 Gorilla 13 Reverse 14 Evade 15 Beg 16 Chew 17 Demeter 18 What the telephone did 19 Inquire 21 Country-life related 23 Hubbub 26 Steal 28 Small egg 29 NC state bird 32 Verse 33 Pottery ingredient 34 Suit 36 Floor covering

37 Bother (2 wds.) 38 Nimble 42 Dietary battle? 43 Opera highlight 44 Presence 46 Emerging 49 Gets an “F” 51 Circle part 52 Data saving devices (abbr.) 53 Car key slot 57 Terminal abbr. 59 One of Columbus’ ships 60 Selected 62 Bird of peace 66 Lump 67 Magazine stand 68 Podium 69 Chop down 70 Oxen harnesses 71 Short play

By Mart Dickerson

DOWN 1 Embrace 2 The Pine Crest, i.e. 3 Those who make the food laws (abbr.) 4 Hawkeye State 5 Determine 6 Bullfight cheer 7 Belch 8 Notion 9 Loch __ monster 10 Noisy situation 11 _____Code 12 National bird 15 Establish, without a doubt 20 __ Lanka 22 Honk 23 Savings, e.g. (abbr.) 24 Painter of melting clocks 25 Spoken 27 Biblical tower 30 Tint 31 Unhand (2 wds.) 32 The___, sandy golf course on N.C. 5 35 Matador’s passes at bull 37 Bullet shooter 38 Hoover, for one 39 ____the Red , Norse Viking 40 Locate 41 Labels 42 Highest quality 44 Small fish, Gilligan’s boat 45 Book by Homer 47 Brooks 48 Halloween mo. 49 Small songbird 50 Athletic 54 Yucky 55 Buckeye State 56 Cranny 58 Totals 61 Compass point 63 Furniture wood 64 Roman numeral seven 65 Time zone

et me tell ya "bout the birds.... 1

19 23

35 38

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Car key slot Terminal abbr. One of Columbus' ships Selected Bird of peace Lump Magazine stand Podium Chop down Oxen harnesses Short play

Sandhills has Talent

Saturday, March 3, 2012 7pm, Sunrise Theater, downtown Southern Pines.

Join us for an evening of great entertainment

23 Savings, ie(abr) 24 Painter of melting clocks em 25 Spoken as the area’s ed bird 27 Biblical tower Fill the grid so every row, every column best and most unique acts in the first 30inTint and every 3x3 box contain the numbers 1-9. Unhand (2 wds.) 31 32 The___, sandy golf course on Puzzlehwy answers 5 on page 83 competition. Bring the family 35 Matador’s passes at bull Mart Dickerson lives in Soiuthern Pines and would and cheer on your favorite contestants! 37 Bullet shooter welcome any suggestions from her fellow puzzle masters. elephone did 38 Hoover, for one She can be reached at martaroonie@gmail.com 112 N. Poplar Street • Aberdeen, NC 28315 39 910 944.7757 • www.mirausa.org e related DOWN 40 Locate 41 Labels “Our guide dogs give 1 Embrace 42 Highest quality blind children a new leash on life . . .” 2 The Pinecrest, i.e. 44 Small fish, Gilligan's boat ird Those who make the food 3 PineStraw : The Art & Soul of the Sandhills . . . . . . . . . .45 . . .Book . . . . .by . .Homer . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . February 2012 95 laws (abbr.) Brooks 47 redient 4 Hawkeye State 48 Halloween mo.

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MIRA hosts

Sandhills has Talent

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Sudoku:

SOUTHWORDS

Thief With a Heart By Laurie Birdsong

his past January, I came upon a display of human decency without ever laying eyes on the first human who performed the act. It presented itself in the form of a scrawled note on a clean fast food chain napkin left at my front door. The note was meant for anyone who picked it up at our address. But as the one who found it, I decided it was a free pass for making good on a New Year’s resolution I’d somehow forgotten to make — this year I will try harder to find decency within otherwise disappointing displays of human nature.

First of the year, I was caught up in work and a personal project to the degree that online retail therapy became my refuge through a string of busier weeks. Web-surfing at night, I began exhaustively searching online retail sites, aiming to round out my shoe collection with a few colors poorly represented in my wardrobe. Hunting for a pair of Mary Janes in my favorite shade of green might have seemed a breezy, effortless task. In truth, finding the pair that belonged in my lineup evolved into an hours-long intensive hunt before I finally settled upon one. Submitting my order online was the culminating mile of that drawn-out browse-a-thon, and it provided the gratification of a well-studied purchase finally made. It also incited a certain giddiness that my Sunday night order of green Mary Janes would arrive — free shipping! — by Wednesday. Caught up in a busy work week, it was Friday before I realized my shoes hadn’t arrived by Wednesday. Or so it seemed. Instead, a birthday package for me and my husband, co-early February babies, had arrived at our doorstep unexpectedly. Sent by my always-ahead, ever-thoughtful mother-in-law, the package nonetheless seemed to have traveled the distance from Georgia to North Carolina via the cheapest of parcel post coverage. It was ragged across the top, and the address label was barely intact, as if someone had ripped it open and tried hand-patting it back to its original state. We left the travel-worn birthday box in the foyer another few days before my husband’s actual birthday. In the meantime, I made the disheartening confirmation online that UPS had indeed delivered my green Mary

Janes to our address on Wednesday. When packages left out in the daytime go missing, most individuals quickly curse themselves for leaving their front door unattended. But in reality, no one who likes where he or she lives, as we do, wants to settle for the mindset that they live in that kind of neighborhood. I stewed for the next few days and thought about how UPS somehow owed me for the shoe-snatching characters we’d landed as neighbors. Lucky for us both, the opportunity to correct my misgivings came when Jeff’s birthday rolled around a few days later. Ever the stickler for opening birthday presents on one’s actual birthday, I put our ragged package in front of Jeff that day to see what his mother had sent us. The disheveled state of our birthday package didn’t click straight off. Out first came a new fleece pullover for Jeff. Strangely, it was folded around crumpled birthday paper. Next out of the box was a ceramic serving dish for me. Why hadn’t my mother-inlaw wrapped the red yarn tassels and tissue paper around my gift instead of tucking it underneath? When we pulled the last item out — one green pair of mail-order Mary Janes — our box’s fate was uncomfortably clear. We had one theft-tampered package on our hands, the contents of which had originally been comprised of two separate deliveries to our doorstep that week. Stripped of the retailer’s branded box, plastic wrapping and tissue, yet “stolen” only temporarily, my intact Mary Janes exuded a kind of redemption that only the accompanying Sharpie-scrawled note could convey — [sic] “I felt bad taking this from you so I’m putting back. I’m sorry. Forgive me … Thank You. P.S. Everything’s there!” Whether we’d been visited by a routine thief or an impulsive teenager, the two of us didn’t spend much time discussing what kind of package-snatching soul lived in our midst. Rather, we found it more intriguing to speculate on that bizarre, yet refreshing side of human nature that compels any of us to choose right over wrong. We are all prone to succumb to our own worst impulses. Yet when an act of poor judgment pushes the conscience to reconsider, something in all of us is programmed to self-correct given the opportunity to do so. PS Laurie Birdsong is a regular contributer to PineStraw magazine.

Illustration by Pamela Powers January

February 2012 P�� PineStraw : The Art & Soul of the Sandhills

It doesn’t take all day to get a massage ... unless, of course, you want it to.

A typical therapy at The Spa at Pinehurst usually lasts 50-75 minutes. But with spacious lounge areas, saunas, whirlpools, a swimming pool plus healthy snacks and smoothies, you can relax all day. So call the Spa to schedule an appointment that will benefit you long after your therapy ends.

$199*

Spa or Golf Special Accommodations Breakfast Two Spa Therapies or Two Rounds of Golf

Located next to The Carolina Hotel • Village of Pinehurst, North Carolina • 910.235.8320 • pinehurst.com *Rate is per person, per night based on double occupancy. Valid Sunday - Thursday through 2 /29/12. Subject to tax and resort service fee. Some restrictions apply.