Sasee Magazine - August 2018

August 2018

Though we travel the world over to find the beautiful, we must carry it with us or we find it not.

-Henry David Thoreau-

August 2018 Volume 17, Issue 8

8 10

Arrivederci Siena

by Diane DeVaughn Stokes

12 16 18

Sasee Asks an Expert Finding Your Creative Spirit

by Dean Nelson - Seascape Designs

20

Read It! Nicloe Says...Read Seabiscuit, by Laura Hillenbrand Just Let Go, by Courtney Walsh Tangerine, by Christine Mangan

23

Sasee Asks an Expert Successful Home Renovations

by Kelly Ryder - Going Coastal Design

Beauty Is In The Eye Of The BeholderAnd In The Strength Of Your Shoulders

by Bonnie McCune

Road Trip...or Road Stumble

by Jeffery Cohen The Hook

by Carrie Lugar Slayback

24

A Hole In My Map

by Rose Ann Sinay

28 32

Trial by Moving

by Zile Elliven

34 36 38 40

Changing Scenery, Changing Lives

by Leslie Moore Sasee Asks an Expert The Beautiful Waters of the Winyah Bay Estuary

by Tamela Walters - Rover Boat Tours A Cup Half Empty

by Erika Hoffman Sasee Kids Page Macie McMillan’s Project Backpack

by Leslie Moore Sasee August Calendar

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5

letter from the editor

Cover Artist A Girl on the Beach, by Jane Woodward Jane Woodward, A Greenville, South Carolina, native, is an impressionistic oil painter. In 1999 she fulfilled a lifetime’s dream of making the coastal area her full-time residence, living now near the creeks of Murrells Inlet. Woodward is one of the artists/owners of Island Art Gallery in The Village Shoppes in Pawleys Island. The Gallery is located on the east side of the highway, across from Bistro 217, just south of the Hammock Shops. You may also find her work at Georgetown Art Gallery, Front Street, Georgetown, and MISC - Everything Murrells Inlet, Business 17 in Murrells Inlet.

First, let me say that I am, and have always been, a dog person. But, in spite of my canine proclivities, I was awakened this morning, as I am most every morning, to the tune of Ruby the cat purring in my ear. Ruby is always given the task to wake me up by her brother and sisters when they decide it’s time for breakfast. I am not at all sure of this, but I believe they conspire together to make sure I understand how important it is for their morning meal to be delivered on time. Ruby is one of the four kittens I rescued three years ago after their mother was killed by a car. Together with my son and our precious dog Annie, we raised the infant kittens – with the plan being to find all of them homes as soon as they were old enough to eat solid food. Like many well laid plans, this one didn’t work out exactly like I thought it would – or anything like I thought it would actually. I now live with four, all grown up kittens, along with another aging, formerly outside, cat who moved inside after he became too old to navigate the perils of the yard. These days I rarely sit down without a cat jumping on my lap and even if I’m standing, my furbabies will politely tap my leg asking for attention – or treats. My knowledge of the proper nutrition for cats is extensive, and I can discuss the pros and cons of various brands of cat litter for much longer than the subject deserves.

Not a day goes by that I don’t laugh out loud at least half a dozen times at the antics of my kitties, and I have more photos of cats than anything else on my phone.

And while I am definitely still a dog person, I am now, without a doubt, a cat person too. In our community, there are thousands of homeless cats and dogs just waiting to fill your home with laughter and love (and they make great alarm clocks, too). Please adopt – and if you can’t adopt, please donate to one of the many wonderful animal rescues in our community.

Though we travel the world over to find the beautiful, we must carry it with us or we find it not.

6

-Henry David Thoreau-

Jane teaches oil painting at Island Art Gallery. Classes for beginners and those who need refresher instructions are offered Thursdays from 10 am-12 pm, basics forward - your choice! The emphasis is on fun, relaxation and making the creative process an enjoyable experience. Jane will teach you what she was taught, what she has learned from workshops and paint-outs, and what she has learned by “just doing it.” Artists will learn how to work from photographs, still life and/or your own imagination. Jane’s students are showing their work and winning awards...how great is that!

You are invited to contact Jane at janewoodward@msn.com or call Island Art Gallery (843) 314-0298 to request class information or how to purchase Jane’s work. Please also view the artist’s work available as prints, framed greeting cards, or gallery wrapped on fineartamerica.com.

Publisher Delores Blount

who’s who

Sales & Marketing Director Susan Bryant Editor Leslie Moore Senior Account Executive Celia Wester Account Executives Stacy Danosky Erica Schneider Gay Stackhouse

Art Director Patrick Sullivan

Photographer & Graphic Artist Aubrey Glendinning Dawn Collea Web Developer Scott Konradt Accounting Eileen Sheehy Executive Publishers Jim Creel Bill Hennecy Suzette Rogers

PO Box 1389, Murrells Inlet, SC 29576 fax 843-626-6452 • phone 843-626-8911 • www.sasee.com • info@sasee.com Sasee is published monthly and distributed free along the Grand Strand. Letters to the editor are welcome, but could be edited for length. Submissions of articles and art are welcome. Visit our website for details on submission.

Sasee is a Strand Media Group, Inc. publication.

Copyright © 2018. All rights reserved. Reproduction of any material, in part or in whole, prepared by Strand Media Group, Inc. and appearing within this publication is strictly prohibited. Title “Sasee” is registered with the U.S. Patent & Trademark Office.

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Arrivederci Siena

by Diane DeVaughn Stokes

Buongiorno! Oh, forgive me. I keep forgetting I am back in the USA. I have just returned from eleven days in Italy where I have vacationed several times before.

This time, however, it was a special gift for my niece Regan. My husband Chuck and I made a promise to her when she was ten years old that we would take her anywhere she wanted to go when she graduated from high school. I must admit we were hoping for a lesser cost effective treat like Disneyworld, New York, or even California, but having gone to Catholic School she had her heart set on Italy from day one. So even though we had been to Venice, Florence, Tuscany, and Rome, twenty years ago, we made the trek again just for Regan. And since my sister Donna, Regan’s mom, had never been out of the country and had not had a vacation in over ten years, we decided to take my sister with us too.

What a great decision. It was so wonderful sharing quality time together laughing and catching up on the crazy things happening in all of our lives.

Spending time together at holidays is awesome, but there’s always other family members there and just can’t compare to sharing an adventure like this, just the four of us.

And even though there was the romance and gondolas of Venice, the gorgeous Duomo in Florence, the castles and vineyards in the Chianti region of Tuscany, and the tour of Vatican City in Rome, the 176 Euros we spent using the pay toilets during the trip, it’s a mishap that occurred on her first day in Tuscany that we will probably be talking about for the rest of our lives. Isn’t that the way it usually goes? So here is the story.

You never want to drive a car in a foreign country unless you have nerves of steel, but Chuck had driven years before in Tuscany and was feeling fearless.

He felt that GPS would have us zipping all over the place, a service we did not have on our last trip there.

As with all GPS services, Chuck named this one “Gina Lo,” short for the famous actress and photojournalist of days gone by, Gina Lollobrigida, an international sex symbol.

?

“Gina Lo” who did speak English to us did well on her first trek and got us safely from the car rental to Siena with no problem. However, when it came time to leave Siena four hours later, she must have drank too much wine waiting for us to return to the car as she kept telling us to turn right, which was wrong, and we kept coming back to the same place over and over again. That happened three times. Finally, Chuck punched in the info one last time hoping “Gina Lo” would finally get us out of dodge, but before we knew it we wound up in the middle of the Siena Piazza where no cars are allowed, where hundreds of people are eating at outdoor cafes, children are playing in the square, and elderly folks on benches are feeding the pigeons. This was no place for four crazy American tourists, and we knew it by the shocked looks on the faces of the locals as we plowed toward them.

At this point Regan, is in the back seat laughing so hard she is crying, Donna is scared to death and I am trying to read the map, Chuck is cursing “Gina Lo,” and we just knew we were going to be caught by the “Policia” and taken to jail.

Then I did something Chuck would never do, just like most men never do, I rolled down the window and begged for mercy in broken Italian asking how to escape this madness. Please get us out of here! A young man nicely told us that we needed to get out of the area quickly or we would be fined heavily, or at least that’s what we understood from his broken English. “Left, then right, then left again.” His directions did not get us out of the city walls, but got us out of Siena Centro at least. I prayed while “Gina Lo” kept yelling turn right, that’s when we disconnected her!

Then just as we rounded a corner into another neighborhood, there was a police officer.

We told him how our GPS “Gina Lo” lied to us, and he never cracked even the slightest smile but he did give us an exit strategy – the secret code to escape Siena.

After thirty minutes of blood, sweat and tears, we were finally free to find our lodging for the night where we celebrated with the finest Chianti wine and could finally laugh about the escapade which made us feel like we were in one of those new maze entertainment venues where you have to answer all types of clues in order to get out. Not fun.

Weirdly enough, “Gina Lo” did much better for us the next day with no more mishaps. Maybe she knew we meant business after we got the police involved.

Or maybe she honestly did not know how to exit Siena either! Regardless, I know we were not the first folks to ever be screwed by GPS!

Diane DeVaughn Stokes

is the President of Stages Video Productions, Host and Producer for TV show “Inside Out” on HTC, and EASY Radio Host weekdays noon to 3pm. Her passions include food, travel and theater. You can reach her at diane@stagesvideo.com

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August 2018

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Beauty is in the Eye of the Beholder, and in the Strength of Your Shoulders

by Bonnie McCune

The rule in our house for travel has always been the same. Each person’s responsible for toting personal luggage. Unless I was eight months pregnant or in a full leg-cast with crutches, I knew my porter would be me.

This wasn’t a problem when we were young and usually schlepped backpacks. We traveled Europe with one each plus a tote bag. Even when we set off on cross-country car trips, we followed the rule. Small children were exempt, of course, but by about age eight, our kids quite competently managed their things.

However, a number of years ago I noticed the space for my clothes was contracting. I had to remove a pair of shoes here, an extra jacket there, first a swimsuit cover-up, then a fluffy bathrobe. What was happening? Was my luggage shrinking? Did my increased poundage result in enormous, space-eating outfits?

Then as I laid out the items I was packing in orderly heaps, I noticed an especially large mound. The load I mentally labeled “Health & Beauty,” ever since my time as a saleswoman at JC Penney decades before, surpassed all my clothing.

What had happened? I knew I neither was using more makeup nor carrying additional beauty equipment.

More health items. More medicines.

More

paraphernalia to have on hand in case I threw a muscle out or strained a joint. Age had caught up with me.

A short list: Glucose for low blood sugar episodes.

Vitamins of all sorts Prescriptions for me and my husband Special washes and creams for skin conditions Herbal and naturopathic supplement designed to reduce impact of viruses A circular pillow that fit around my neck to ease naps while traveling Elastic supports for knees Several specially designed implements to keep decay and gum disease at bay At least nine pairs of glasses: reading, reading back-up, reading sun; same three for medium distance and far. Maybe some bifocals As I surveyed the piles, I realized I’d reached an age-stage. Just as babies need lots of extras, so do aging folks. One method to approximate someone’s age is to survey his luggage. If his health and beauty pile is larger than his clothing, he must be approaching 55 or 60. Ditto women even if their hair and lips appear like youngsters.

I’m not alone in packing more items. My sister sometimes takes her sleep apnea equipment, which is at least the size of a shoe box. A woman I know can’t sleep unless she packs her special large pillows to cushion her body.

So what does this mean? Another example of age discrimination. Why can’t luggage limits be based on age and the amount of necessities? If the privilege of affordable housing can be given to those above a particular number of years, certainly airlines, trains and buses can waive the restrictions on baggage for us. As for the practicalities of body strength, if we get tired of toting the extra weight, we can reduce the number of items we lug. To disguise the need for extra makeup we can wear concealing scarves, droopy hats, or extra-long bangs.

To hide physical disabilities, opt for obscuring baggy clothing. Squint instead of packing extra glasses. Or just suffer.

Bonnie McCune

has been writing since age 10 when the Saturday Evening Post rejected a submission. An interest in writing led to her career in public relations for nonprofits. Now Bonnie’s true passion is fiction writing.

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August 2018

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Finding Your Creative Spirit

by Dean Nelson

Growing up, I never pursued art because I was intimidated by it, and I want to teach people not to be fearful about creating.

Art is about the journey, and not necessarily about the finished product. It’s what you learn along the way – your work may come out differently than your original vision!

The first step to being creative is to just start! Maybe gather some seashells and arrange them on a plate; swirl them around and add some color. Remember, art is like an etch a sketch, if you don’t like it, just do it over. And do what you love – it’s hard to be creative in a medium you don’t like. If you love what you’re working with, you make your own rules. I do glass on glass mosaic. I take stained glass and put it on top of clear glass, then cover it with a liquid glass composite. I found a way to create that works for me.

Go to the beach, gather a pile of shells and a stick, and start drawing. Arrange the shells within your work – you could use seaweed as a border. Take a photo of your creation when you’re done. At home, surround yourself with stimulating objects and vibrant color – they don’t have to go together. Having pretty rocks, pretty pieces of stained glass, etc. in your surroundings makes you want to be creative. Glean as much as you can from other sources, like magazines or store window displays. Look at what other people have done and apply that in your setting.

My best ideas come from my customers. They ask me to do things that I had never thought of. Listen to what other people suggest and put your own spin on it. I’m known for turtles; I incorporate a tiny turtle into every piece of my art. Finally, approach life with a creative mind – if one thing doesn’t work, try something else.

Creativity manifests itself in conversation, in dress – listen to your authentic self, believe in yourself and taking chances.

12

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She specializes in glass on glass mosaic and has the support and help of her husband David, who does all of her frames and “grunt” work. The couple still sells their art at a farmers market in Southport and at big festivals, but having a store gives people the ability to come in out of the elements and create a custom piece that fits their lifestyle. Dean is the mom of a beautiful cat and dog and lives with her husband in Sunset Beach, where nature stimulates her senses. Contact Dean at 910-712-6817 or find Seascape Designs on Facebook.

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Road trip...or Road Stumble

by Jeffery Cohen

A year after my brother had transferred from a college in West Virginia to one in New Jersey, he began to miss his old classmates that he’d left behind. During his semester break, he decided to take a road trip back to his old school and invited me to come along.

“A road trip? Where did you get a car?” I asked.

“No car.” He grinned and stuck out his thumb.

“You’re going to hitchhike down to West Virginia, in January? Won’t it be cold?” I asked, shivering.

“It will be an adventure,” he answered.

“But won’t it be cold?” I repeated.

“Remember the stories that Dad used to tell us about how he bummed around the country hopping freight trains and thumbing rides out on the highways and byways?” he reminded me.

I did remember those tales of days that took my father through the Southland, then out to the West coast, but all I could say was, “Won’t it be cold?”

“We’ll take a couple of warm sleeping bags with us, just in case we have to stop somewhere on our way down, but I don’t expect we’ll ever be using them. It should be clear sailing all the way. And besides, we’ll be heading south where it’s warmer. So, what do you say? You in?”

The Robert Frost poem, “The Road Not Taken” popped into my head.

So, there we were on the side of the road, packs on our backs, thumbs out. It wasn’t long before a blue sedan pulled over. “How far are you going?” the middle-aged man behind the wheel asked.

“West Virginia,” we sang out.

“I can get you as far as Valley Forge, Pennsylvania.”

“Sounds great,” my brother said, and we climbed aboard.

This is going to be a cinch, I thought to myself. We made small talk, listened to some country tunes on the radio and before we knew it, we were back on the road, looking forward to a ride out of Valley Forge.

Unfortunately, all the next three hours brought us was a man in a pickup truck who yelled out an apology, saying he was only going a couple of miles on his way home. Though the temperatures weren’t nearly as frigid as January can be, it was cold. Without a whole lot of daylight left and prospects for a ride slim, we wandered over to a nearby wooded area and staked a claim for the night.

As my brother slipped off his gear and sat down on an old tree stump, I began dragging sturdy fallen branches and wedging them between a cluster of young trees.

“What do you think you’re doing?” my brother asked, shaking his head.

“Building a shelter,” I answered, as I continued to construct a canopy with downed boughs, then heaping on layers of fallen leaves as my brother watched in amusement.

“You really think we need all of that?” he smiled.

“We’re just staying the night, not the week.”

‘Two roads converged in a woods, and I – I took the one less traveled by, And that has made all the difference.”

“Better to be safe than sorry.” After finishing my shelter, I gathered up a pile of wood that we could use for a campfire once night fell. Then we stowed away our packs and decided to get a bite to eat at a small bar across the road.

Filled with imaginings and possibilities of the unknown, I answered. “I’m in!”

The next day, my youngest brother volunteered to help us out on the first leg of our journey. “I’ll ride you down the road a piece,” he said, warming up his old jalopy. “Kind of get you off to a good start.” The gray skies and the winter chill all around us played on my kid brother’s sympathies. He drove us more than fifty miles before finally saying goodbye.

16

We were welcomed by the warmth of the inn keeper as well as the place’s blazing fireplace. After a bowl of

Sasee.com

August 2018

hot, homemade chili and a couple of beers, we were ready to face the night. As we stepped out of the door, we were surprised at how quickly the sun had gone down and just how dark it had gotten.

“How are we ever going to find our way back to our stuff?” I asked, a bit panicked.

My brother shrugged. “Dumb luck, I guess.”

With low expectations and little hope, we wandered across the road, just as it began to drizzle. Like two blind mice, we stumbled around in the black for nearly a half hour, and by some miracle, we actually found our way. Now, the rain started to pick up. Ducking under our ceiling of leaves, we unrolled our sleeping bags and slipped inside.

“Guess building a shelter wasn’t such a waste of time after all, was it?” I said. My brother grudgingly agreed. Unable to light a fire with a wet pile of wood, we settled in for the night.

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At about five in the morning, I woke up shivering to the incredible drop in the temperature, but I was thankful that I no longer heard the patter of raindrops on our roof. Then I pried one eye open, and I realized why.

Snowflakes were gently falling around us, already leaving an inch of white on the ground. It was time to get a move on.

We packed up and made our way out to the road, determined to hitch a quick ride south, but every car seemed to be going in the opposite direction. From the few vehicles that did pass our way, people waved, yelled out words of encouragement, gave us the peace sign, but nobody bothered to even slow down. We were beginning to understand the kind of hardships George Washington and his men must have endured, having spent a winter here. After three teeth-chattering hours, our fingertips and toes began to feel numb. That’s when we decided that our road trip to West Virginia wasn’t as good an idea as we had thought. We crossed over to the northbound lanes of the highway to head back home.

In minutes, a van pulled over. “I’m only going as far as New Jersey,” the driver informed us. Turned out, he was the salesman that took care of the printing of the yearbook at my brother’s college, and so we got a ride all the way back to where we started from. As we sat back, relieved by the warmth, watching the snow fall behind us, I thought again of Frost’s poem and realized why there was a road less traveled. Not enough traffic to hitch a ride!

Jeffery Cohen

Freelance writer and newspaper columnist, Jeffery Cohen, has written for Sasee, Lifetime and Read, Learn, Write. He’s won awards in Women-On-Writing Contest, Vocabula’s Well Written Contest, National League of American Pen Women’s’ Keats Competition, Southern California Genealogy Competition, and Writer’s Weekly writing contest.

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The Hook

by Carrie Luger Slayback Sunday morning – 5:30 a.m. awoke, fearful.

I’m a runner, a 74-year-old runner with a dozen marathons (26.2 miles) to my credit, winning my age group in three and placing in many more.

Today’s race was a mere six miles, so what was to be afraid of?

shuffle. My nasty younger self used to pass senior runners thinking, “Why are they even out here?” Now I know why. My weekly 30 miles are my morning ritual, contributing immeasurably to mental and physical health – no matter the pace.

Here’s what – this morning’s race clears the course of runners slower than a thirteen minute mile. My current workouts are fifteen minute miles.

I imagine myself, far from the finish line, a giant hook pulling me from the course. Demoralizing!

Arrived at this morning’s 6:30 a.m. race in darkness, a cool 44 degrees. I jogged a bit, replaying the internal “movie” I’d visualized for a week – me sprinting fast to the finish – but the specter of that hook lurked behind my bright picture. How can I run faster than my months of fifteen minute mile work-outs?

I wasn’t always slow. Running the Back Bay trail six years ago, I spotted my former coach, George on the trail ahead of me. George was a bossy ex-judge, who ordered me to enter a 2007 marathon, scolding me for 26 miles into running fast enough to qualify for the famous Boston Marathon.

6:25 a.m.– runners gathered at the start. We stood, hands on hearts when, out of the darkness a soprano voice sang a beautiful a cappella version of the Star Spangled Banner. Then BOOM! Fingers pressed “start” on pace watches as feet crossed the first timing strip.

Eleven years later, Judge George scuffled along, lopsided.

“I’m so glad to see you!” I said, overtaking him.

Never one to waste words, George dispensed with greetings, “In your seventies, everything goes to hell,” he said, “lost my speed, can’t run.”

We talked; I said a fond good-bye and ran on, thinking, “That will never happen to me.”

It did. My long-legged friend, Evie walks, relaxed, as I “run” along beside her. I’m not sick or injured; I’m 74 – working hard, but, hamster-like, going nowhere. My stride’s tightened, keeping my feet right under me, protecting my knees. The calf muscles which pull my legs off the ground to stride into the next step deteriorate first, so older runners spend more time, feet on the ground. That equals slowing. Lastly the ability to translate oxygen intake into energy output declines with age.

I ran at an easy pace, then snapped to attention, “This won’t do, too slow.” Looked down at my watch, seven minute forty second mile?

Easy! Finished Mile One at an eight minute mile. Passed Mile 2, relaxed rhythm. Welcomed a course hill for variety. Mile 3, half done, no strain.

Mile 4, slowed to an eleven minute mile. I will NOT drag my feet! Picked up the pace to a nine-minute-mile, not even breathless. Mile 5, Mile 6, sped up, never stressed.

Crossed the finish as a male voice called out, “Look at her, she could do three more miles!”

“Correct,” I thought.

Younger runners ran through the chute with me, including a dark haired thirtyish woman who caught up and hugged me. “Thanks,” she said, “you paced me.”

I was first in my age group, finishing under an hour, with a nine and a half minute average pace. “You won!” a friend said. But that wasn’t the fulfilling part. I gained confidence that my weekly (slow) work-outs are capable of unleashing this senior shuffler’s hidden energy source – the ability to pick up feet and race. And my secret joy – nobody even considered pulling me off the course.

I don’t believe the above. I will triumph over age.

But I’m not triumphing. Not in weekly workouts when I’m doing the senior

18

Sasee.com

Carrie Luger Slayback

was the first teacher awarded a $5,000 Community Service Prize recognizing her students’ water conservation activism. Retiring after 40 years teaching, she didn’t retire, instead daring herself to take an age-group first place in the Los Angeles Marathon. She brought home the first, and continues to run marathons, winning Carlsbad, California, in 2016. She writes about health and fitness from a carefully researched personal perspective.

August 2018

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–Read It!–

Nicole Says…Read These Books

Over the past few months, I have been sharing books by my favorite authors. For this month, I thought I would share what some of these authors are reading this summer.

Mary Alice Monroe has an excellent summer reading list, including a book that comes out this fall: a tribute to Pat Conroy titled, Our Prince of Scribes. Below is my review of Seabiscuit, by Laura Hillenbrand.

Seabiscuit, by Laura Hillenbrand

Seabiscuit rose to fame by being a long-shot and winning the Triple Crown and people’s hearts. Laura Hillenbrand brings to life the entire world of horse racing during the Great Depression.

My reading group had read Unbroken, several years ago, but I had not read this Triple Crown biography. It was an eye-opening read

into the world of the horse racing and the men that put their faith in an unlikely horse. During a tumultuous time period, Seabiscuit managed to break the news by giving everyone a reason to have hope and cheer. The author has an incredible writing style that will take the readers’ breath away. Readers will feel as though they are a part of the team, and they will even re-read chapters, just to make sure they didn’t miss any of the excitement.

Kristy Woodson Harvey’s list is a lot like mine, in which it includes a little bit of everything, from beach reads to historical fiction, even a F. Scott Fitzgerald classic, This Side of Paradise. Courtney Walsh is a Christian fiction author, who just released a second book in her Harbor Pointe series.

Just Let Go, by Courtney Walsh

Grady Benson’s ski career has been going downhill quickly. Between crashes and bad behavior, this former Olympian has no idea how to get back on the team. He thinks his way is best and doesn’t understand why his coaches won’t let him do things his way. When he gets stuck with community service in a small town, he fears he has lost all hope of making it back to the Olympics. Quinn Collins just became the owner of her mother’s flower shop. Her dream is to win a big competition in order to see her mother for the first time, as she abandoned Quinn. Will these two be able to make peace with their pasts in order to follow their dreams?

This is the first book that I have read by Courtney Walsh. It was a well-written story that didn’t make me feel as though I missed something from the first book. Though the characters’ experiences are not ones that most readers experienced, the characters’ emotions are something that all readers can relate to. This book is about accepting the past in order to grow and move forward into the future. The story is filled with descriptions that bring the small town to life. The cast of secondary characters is quite hilarious in their antics to keep Grady and Quinn close. This is a cute story with a powerful deeper meaning.

Karen White is in the midst of a psychological thriller list. I must say, once you read one, you can become addicted quickly.

On her list are the new books by both B. A. Paris and Ruth Ware and also, this debut by Christine Mangan, who is now on my wish list for her future work.

Tangerine, by Christine Mangan

In the 1950s, Alice escapes to Tangier to begin a new life. However, when her former best friend arrives, she knows she won’t be able to keep the past hidden. An accident is what ties Lucy and Alice together, but it is also what drove them apart. When Alice’s husband goes missing, she must decide whether she can trust her former friend or if the truth from that fateful night is too much to handle.

Tangerine is an incredible first novel by Christine Mangan. Readers will quickly add her to their must-read lists, as they anxiously await news of her next book. Mixing historical fiction, suspense and destination-read, this book has something to offer for everyone. The time period and setting truly drive this story. The beginning will grip readers’ attention, while the ending is quite unpredictable. The middle is a bit slow, but readers will need to know what secret Lucy and Alice share.

Reviews by Nicole McManus

Nicole loves to read, to the point that she is sure she was born with a book in her hands.

She writes book reviews in the hopes of helping others find the magic found through reading. Contact her at ARIESGRLREVIEW.COM.

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Successful Home Renovations

by Kelly Ryder

You’re ready to remodel and need a plumber, electrician or other contractor. Why is it important to hire qualified trade people to do work in your home? So many of us want things checked off the “to do” list, but unfortunately don’t use licensed trade workers. Renovations are on an upswing with the housing boom again. Among improvements high on the list for most people are kitchens and baths. Once you decide where you want to do your remodel, next on the list is hiring the right contractor.

Finding a plumber and/or an electrician can be a daunting task.

Our trade people keep us protected, and they are so important.

These are skilled jobs that require extensive training, and they must be licensed, bonded and insured. If you hire someone who is not licensed and get a leak in your shower, you are responsible.

Using a reputable person will keep this from happening. I always tell my clients, if you do it the right way first, you only have to do it once.

With that being said, working with an interior designer from the beginning of your project will help the navigation process go smoothly. A good interior designer works closely with the different trades and general contractors. They can help your stress level and lead you to the right person for your job. Being in the industry, I see many people that say they can do a certain job, but are not qualified. These are the people I call jack of all trades and master of none. When working with clients an interior designer always protects their clients and their home and real estate.

Before you hire anyone, always get references and talk to people in that line of work. I do that for my clients – you are giving me the ability to make decisions for you after we’ve talked. You don’t have to worry if you are picking the right contractor; I ensure you have reputable people doing your work. Whether you are after the whole package or just a new shower or backsplash, finding the right contractor is critical to the outcome of your project.

A good interior designer knows and works with skilled people.

It’s their best advertising. Remember, if it seems too good to be true... it more than likely is. Do your homework, or, find someone that will look after your best interest. Repeat business is key in this industry.

Kelly Ryder, a local interior designer, is the owner of Going Coastal Design. She has extensive experience working with both remodels and new construction. If you have any questions about your remodel, stop by 4493 Highway 17 Business in Murrells Inlet or call 919-523-0568.

23

A Hole in my Map

by Rose Ann Sinay

I am directionally challenged. A long list of verbal instructions used to send me into a panic. As soon as multiple route numbers and four-lane highways were mentioned, my ears filled with cotton. Multiple directions – a left, a right, and another left – the words unconsciously sent my hands into a flurry as I tried to visualize my trajectory. I blinked, I smiled, I nodded at the person who was giving me information, but my inner thoughts drowned out the words. Street names, cardinal directions (north, south, east, and west) . . . the second right at the third light after the fork in the road – I stopped listening as a lead apron descended over my brain.

“So,” I would say. “I take the road by Belk until I get to that great little bookstore with blue trim? Then, I take the highway on the same side as the Exxon station. Right?”

Early in our marriage, my husband insisted that I learn to read maps. I had never owned a car of my own. I relied on public transportation (or the kindness of friends) to get where I needed to go. Just drop me off at the mall, or the middle of town was all the direction I needed. He wanted me to be able to find my way around, not be taxied from place to place.

“You need to be able to figure out the direct path to where you’re going, and be able to find your way home without driving down every other road,” he said. And, of course, navigation skills would be helpful on our car trips together across country.

Even back then, I hated maps. Hit a bump in the road, and I’d lose my place. By the time I relocated the tiny little spot, we had already gone through it. There were plenty of tense moments as I studied the maze of red, blue and black lines (masquerading as highways) unable to find a single recognizable point, forcing my husband to pull to the side of the road to see for himself.

“It’s right there,” he would say pointing to a miniscule dot on the map as if it was as obvious as the pimple on my chin. “It runs right into I-95.”

His finger slid a mere quarter inch across the page. I didn’t see it; I just agreed it was there.

24

“We’re right on track. Great job!” I said checking out the mountain range in the distance, looking for the exit to a Dunkin Donuts.

Even refolding the map was an irritating chore. It was like manipulating a flat Rubik’s Cube. I could never ease the massive paper back into its original neat form. I stuffed it under the seat, out of my view.

My husband quickly realized that he would always be both captain and navigator of his own ship – uh, car.

I made my way to and from my destinations by rote, and if anyone asked me for directions (they obviously didn’t know me), my response included landmarks such as: Charlie’s Market, the Peterson’s cow farm, or the road with the beautiful pear tree on the corner.

It got complicated when my children were old enough to be aware that Mom had lost her way to a new doctor’s office or sports activities in another town. I knew the general direction: a couple streets over from the mall, or next to the school. We always got there – eventually. We referred to these deviations from the norm as “adventures.” The wrong road was simply an opportunity to “get to know the area.” We would

Sasee.com

August 2018

stop to pet the cows gathered by a split rail fence, or visit a baseball card shop while I got my bearings. Every ride became a game of I Spy. The winner was first one to spot the town hall sign or the school soccer field.

It was only after I lost a hubcap taking a last minute swerve onto a road I recognized that my kids became suspicious. Instead of announcing to their father we had had a great adventure, they began to tattle: Mom got lost – again.

After my husband and I became empty nesters, I bought myself a cell phone so I wouldn’t miss calls and photos from my children. I soon discovered the phone had a wonderful app – Google Maps. All I had to do was type in an address or verbally ask for directions. A voice directed me, minute by minute, exactly where to go and whether I needed to get in the left or right lane. And, should I somehow miss an exit, it easily rerouted me right where I needed to go. I’ve been using this service for years, but I still get excited when the voice announces 500 feet, 400 feet, 300 . . .2, 1 – you have arrived at your destination!

When we take a long trip, my husband continues to highlight our route on the map. He’s a map man. He thinks the app has taken the challenge out of finding the way, like having to stop to ask directions when you’re lost. (He would have made an excellent pioneer.) Surprisingly, on the last couple of trips, he has asked me to pull up the “phone directions” to make sure we were on the shortest path. He argued that there was a better way to go, but I noticed he stayed on course – except when I talked him into taking the “wrong” exit – to get to know the area. After all these years, I have become a navigator – of sorts.

As much as I love my Google Maps, I’m glad it wasn’t around when the kids were young; when I toted them from place to place burning gas like it was water. We found more than just our destination; it was all about the journey.

Rose Ann Sinay

is a freelance writer newly relocated to Connecticut. She continues to write about moments worth remembering , graciously provided by family and friends.

"Wherever you are on your spiritual path, Unity Myrtle Beach welcomes you."

Rev. Margaret Hiller, the Board and Congregants of Unity Myrtle Beach are saying prayers of pure gratitude these days since they closed on this heavenly site for their new Church and Spiritual Center. This property represents the manifestation of many years of prayers, faith and dreams. While it will take time for permits, plans and construction, we continue welcoming everyone to our current location at 1270 Industrial Park, Surfside Beach, S.C., 29575. Our life-enhancing Sunday Services begin at 11:00am every Sunday Morning. Wings Book and Gift Shoppe provides a warm and peaceful environment where you will discover unique gifts or browse our wonderful book selections. No one will want to miss out on the multiple classes, book groups, seminars and retreats that we routinely offer to anyone who would enjoy attending.

Call (843) 238-8516 to get the time and dates for these wonderful activities, check us out on line at www.unitymyrtlebeach.org.

@unitymyrtlebeach | Email:unitymyrtlebeach@gmail.com

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Girls Just Want To Have Fun You’re never too old for adventures with your best friends. With Lifestyle360 outings bringing everyone together, Five Star Dining, and neighbors who feel like they’ve known each other for a lifetime, Five Star Senior Living adds more fun to life.

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www.MorningsideOfGeorgetown.com A S S I S T E D L I V I N G • S H O R T-T E R M S TAY S • M E M O R Y C A R E ©2018 Five Star Senior Living

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27

Trial by Moving

by Zile Elliven

I’ve always loved moving. The excitement, the indescribable feeling of new beginnings, and, of course, getting rid of stuff I don’t need. Due to the ephemeral nature of my father’s job as a pastor, I’ve moved more times than I can count, so I’ve gotten really good at it. So it stands to reason that, when faced with a partner who was terrible at it, I’d be at a complete loss.

Let me take you back a few years. It was spring of 2006, and my boyfriend and I had decided to move in together. It was a rash decision, like most are during the “love bubble” phase, but we knew it was meant to be, so we were going boldly forward.

I began packing the moment we’d made the decision. I made endless lists, and contacted friends to lend me the use of their arms and cars, so I didn’t have to hire a moving truck – I was a college student with empty pockets, but an endless amount of moxie. Everyone had been carefully organized and given specific tasks and days to help me so I could get everything done as cheaply and efficiently as possible. I managed to get everything moved and set up in five days, and I felt like a slacker because it took so long.

The Boyfriend’s lease wasn’t up until the end of April, so he was taking a more leisurely approach. He was a happy-go-lucky gamer boy who liked going with the flow and seeing where the world took him. I loved this about him, so I didn’t get alarmed about his approach to moving until I saw his apartment two days before his lease was up. It looked like it had the day I met him – packed to the rafters with all manner of dude-esque accoutrements.

The efficient, Type A girl inside of me was horrified at the mess and inefficiency of it all. I knew there was no

way he was going to get done, but Love Bubble me just knew he wasn’t going to press-gang me into working for forty-eight hours straight on his personal garbage dump. He swore up and down that he had friends coming over that evening to help him get it ready, and I believed him.

Cue my shock when I came over the next morning to see that they’d spent the night partying instead of packing. My love bubble was becoming wobbly and thin. But I decided to knuckle down and condense two weeks of packing into twenty-four hours of work. I could do this, I was born for this. Or so I told myself.

Fast-forward to ten hours later, and the love bubble was gone. It had popped so hard, the International Space Station heard it. I’d decided I was moving out of our shared apartment the second we had him moved in. I was so tired and miserable from helping a hoarder discard and move his precious possessions that I had decided I was never going to speak to the man again. The last thing I wanted to do was spend my life with someone who would make me – a chronic wanderer – go through such a nightmarish experience every time I wanted to pick up and leave to find a new adventure.

The Boyfriend knew it too; the poor boy had fallen into a hopeless silence by the end of the day. I’d broken his spirit. He had even stopped fighting to keep his boxes of broken toys and torn, dirty school papers from grade school. We both knew the end was near.

Then something interesting happened. At this point in the evening, I was a hot, sweaty ball of seething anger, and probably should have been wearing a sign that read, “Don’t poke

the bear.” I was done with a capital D, but The Boyfriend was a different story. One of his elderly neighbors was struggling to drag something out of his apartment to the dumpster. It was an unwieldy couch covered in jagged, rusty nails.

The Boyfriend didn’t even think twice, he ran over to the man and offered to help. Then he sat and chatted casually for a few minutes, being his kind, adorable self with a complete stranger. He was exhausted, stressed and on a deadline, but he was still able to find the man I’d fallen in love with and share him with a person in need. He hadn’t done it to impress anyone.

He hadn’t done it for any sort of reward. He did it because it would have been unnatural for him not to do so.

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All of my rage and self-righteous indignation dropped away from me in an instant, and I was awash in feelings of shame and love. Hoarding issues aside, The Boyfriend was the kindest, most unselfish person I’d ever met.

I realized then, as I stood in the dark watching the scene in front of me, that there wasn’t much I wasn’t willing to deal with in order to have that in my life. To have him in my life.

I didn’t tell him I’d seen him, or about the shift inside me, but when he came back inside for another box of stuff, I flung my arms around him and kissed the strawberry shortcake out of him. The rest of the evening was still hard, and we almost didn’t make it out in time, but it was easier than the first half of the day had been. We joked and laughed and fell more in love.

Ten years and two kids later, moving is still a mess for us, but we expect it now and plan accordingly. And every time I move, I remember the first time we moved together, and I smile to myself because I see through the layer of years and remember the core of my husband. A kind, unselfish man to this very day.

Zile Elliven

author of Stillbringer - is a chronic dreamer who enjoys spending her days chasing kids, cats, and fantasies through the hill towns of Massachusetts.

You can find her on Twitter @ZileElliven.

11388 Ocean Highway, Unit B, Pawleys Island, SC, 29585 (Across from Fresh Market) Discover the Secret Art of Making Wishes Come True at 29 www.wishcandle.com - (843) 314-3215.

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31

Changing Scenery, Changing Lives

by Leslie Moore

Summer means working or relaxing for most college students, but for some, summer is a time to make a difference. Sasee recently met with a group of ten rising sophomores from Duke University who spent their summer in Georgetown County working with various non-profits. All of these bright young people are from North or South Carolina and are recipients of the BN Duke Scholarship.

The program seeks to foster appreciation, mutual respect, and connection between the scholars and the people of North and South Carolina. One of the requirements is to spend 10 weeks in a North or South Carolina community working for a non-profit.

Duke has been sending students to Georgetown for four years – changing lives through a change of scenery.

by Habitat for Humanity of Georgetown County, not only working, but building community with local residents and each other.

Donald Barringer, Site Coordinator with Duke University, explained that this part of the program is called the Carolina Summer of Service. This year, ten students lived in a house owned

Sarah Watkins, a Winston-Salem native, plans to major in psychology. “I think the best thing about being in Georgetown is learning how important community is here. People have gone out

32

“This year we started our summer volunteering for Habitat for Humanity,” Donald began. “And each student has a job at a local non-profit, working Monday through Thursday. On Fridays the students come together to learn more about the community and work on a joint service project,” Donald told me as we stood in the fellowship hall of Arnett AME Church in Georgetown. On this particular day, students were busy sorting books for Freedom Readers under the direction of Cassandra Jackson, outreach coordinator for the Georgetown branch of this non-profit.

Sasee.com

August 2018

Hailing from Greensboro, North Carolina, Taylor Patton agreed with Sarah, saying, “This experience has been amazing. I work at the Family Justice Center that helps victims of domestic violence, and I’ve learned what a big difference a non-profit can make in someone’s life.” Taylor went on to tell me she was worried that she might not have enough to offer, but soon found her work was, indeed, helping. “I can answer phones and make appointments, giving the change-makers time to do their work.” Taylor is a neuroscience major and plans to become a neurologist.

With only three weekends off all summer, these young people stay busy! Donald told me they are required to plan three community dinners to gain a greater understanding about how to build community. “The most important thing about service learning is that it is not just about what you give, it’s what you take away,” said Donald. “These young people are away from family and have to

of the way to help us, and our neighbors have even invited us to their homes for cookouts.” Sarah is working at the Plantersville Summer Academy helping with tutoring and administrative tasks.

“The kids I’m working with are amazing,” she continued. “They are willing to spend their entire summer learning.”

Ray Funnye, founder and executive director of the Plantersville Summer Academy, spent a few minutes talking with me about the importance of the Duke Scholars’ contribution. “Every year we receive a new group of young people, eager and energetic about helping with the program,” Ray began. “This year we have 268 children in the program, ranging from kindergarten to ninth grade.”

Ray continued, praising the Duke group, saying that not only do they provide one on one academic tutoring, this year several volunteers provide enrichment such as ballet and Spanish lessons.

“The Duke Scholars are a tremendous asset to our program,” Ray said as we ended our chat. “The energy and enthusiasm they bring is truly a God send.” learn to live cooperatively. During the ten weeks, they grow – not just outwardly, but inwardly.”

Laughter and a sense of fun was the overriding feeling in the room where hundreds of books were being sorted, and as we were leaving, Heeya Sen, shared with me a little about her experience. “It’s rare that a college student has the opportunity to be this involved in the community. We spend a lot of time preparing during the school year, thinking about what our place is going to be.” Heeya, an electrical engineering major, spent her summer working at Tidelands Health, doing data cleanup and various other tasks that gave staff more time to work with clients. “The Georgetown community has been so welcoming.”

33

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34

4883 US Highway 17 Bypass South, Myrtle Beach, SC 29577 ONE LIGHT SOUTH OF MARKET COMMONS

The Beautiful Waters of the Winyah Bay Estuary

by Tamela Walters An estuary is a body of water that is comprised of more than one source of water flowing into it. Winyah Bay, in Georgetown is a unique estuary – there are only two that replicate it on the East Coast. Five rivers flow in out and of this one body of water – The Waccamaw, the Little Pee Dee, the Big Pee Dee, the Sampit and the Black Rivers all drain into Winyah Bay. Estuaries act like filters to clean the water as it comes in and out.

That’s why we have some of the best oysters on the east coast.

The water is being cleansed by the diverse water flow into the bay. Fresh water is pushed out by the tide, taking anything inland out to the ocean. Salt water comes back in and feeds the many organisms that live on it. Our water is cleansed every 24 hours, a two tide cycle. We also don’t have major industry along our rivers helping keep our water clean.

The upper regions of Winyah Bay are fresh water and the closer you get to the ocean, the saltier the water. How much rain we have every year determines how far the salt water goes inland.

Back in the middle 2000s our area was impacted by a severe drought, and dolphins were seen in the river near Brown’s Ferry due to the salt content of the water reaching several miles inland.

If you’ve been on a boat in Winyah Bay, you’ve probably seen the foamy line in the water. That’s where fresh and salt water mix and a lot of animals feed along that line. While it looks dirty and foamy, it’s full of beneficial microorganisms. This is a great place to see dolphins feeding.

Winyah Bay also has a fascinating history. It was used for shipping for many years – the industry that built Georgetown. Native Americans and their predecessors probably lived in Winyah Bay for thousands of years ago, but our recorded history goes back to 1526 when the Spanish settled here. That Spanish settlement has yet to be discovered, but it is documented in writing. If it is ever found, this discovery would make Georgetown the oldest settlement in the United States.

Tamela Walters is the owner of Rover Tours in Georgetown, located on the Harborwalk in Georgetown. To learn more about the ecology of Winyah Bay and its rich history, join her experienced staff for one of two boat tours. The Shelling and Lighthouse Cruise is a four hour boat tour full of excitement, and the newest cruise, a collaboration with Hobcaw Barony, takes guests on a trip back in time through Barnard Baruch’s winter hunting retreat, and includes a tour of the famous Hobcaw House. To learn more and book your boat tour, visit www.roverboattours.com or call 843-546-8822.

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35

A Cup Half Empty

by Erika Hoffman

Trudging down an endless, dusty road to the tour bus parking lot on a stifling summer day in Italy, I complained to one of my traveling companions about the heat, my feet, and the lengthy bus drives. Pam stopped and stared at me. “Erika, you always see the cup as half empty!”

This remark startled me for three reasons. First, I figured everyone was annoyed with the broken AC system on the nauseating road trip with only brief stops for viewing historic sites followed by more interminable bus travel. I also assumed everybody was weary of the “Hurry Up and Wait” itinerary. Thirdly, I never considered myself a negative person!

company, but I decided on that delirious dog day afternoon to stamp out my tendency to elaborate on aches and pains and dire states. Like a prospector for happiness, I’d search for glittering specs of glee in the muck of misfortune! By the time we reached Turin, all of us tourists resembled threadbare survivors of the apocalypse. Dazed by the relentless 100 plus degree temps and the winding, monotonous, fume-filled ride, we dragged our zombie bodies off in sweat-soaked clothes. Barely able to wield our totes we filed into the hotel, like the seven dwarfs after a week of mining.

My dad used to say it’s a gift to see yourself as others view you. When my fellow pilgrim, returning from visiting the Carthusian Monastery in Pavia, assessed my inability to affirm the positive in life, something snapped in my head. What about all those times, in the past, I‘d taken pride in sharing my jaded insights, thinking myself witty? Maybe my listeners evaluated my reflections on life differently. Instead of envisioning me as a rival for a late night comedian, perhaps instead they deemed me a churlish curmudgeon?

The folks I disparaged as silly Pollyanna’s were more likely appreciated on trips than someone like me; moreover, those cockeyed optimists would be welcomed anywhere, under any circumstances in the daily grind of life!

During that interminable bus ride with choking torridity and our noses wedged out the windows while we gazed at green hilltops roasting, I flashbacked over decades of my schoolmarm-ish behavior. “It’s easy to find fault,” Dad cautioned us kids growing up. I reflected on how critical my sibs can be and how judgmental Mom had been. I wondered if it was intrinsic in my DNA to possess a fault-finding gene. Was it my fate to be forever boorish? Due to an epiphany or a mirage that formed in the blurry waves rising on the macadam, I vowed under the Tuscan sun to silence my inner skeptic. Like Scarlett O Hara clutching a handful of Tara’s dirt and shaking her fist to the heavens swearing never to be poor again, I declared with a limp hankie after wiping wet beads from my brow never to allow myself to become a Saturday Night Live Debbie Downer again. Even if my observation of a situation turned out correct, what purpose was served in sharing noisome news? Misery might like

36

Sasee.com

“EEEW! What a horrible, stinking day!”

The distinctive voice of the familiar travel buddy – from the day before – whined.

Nonetheless, I remained mute. Inwardly, I smiled at a fresh thought that flashed in my head. I gazed at the splendid sunset from inside the air-conditioned lobby and murmured to myself, “Today’s turned into a jubilant journey, after all, for this day is the first day of the rest of my positive-seeking, castle- building, cup brimming over, mirthfilled, exuberant life. I clicked my heels like Dorothy and sauntered up the steps with renewed stamina and a sunny side up affect that didn’t dissolve the next morning when the mechanic announced the bus’s AC was unfixable, and yet we were about to embark on an eight-hour drive, Under the Tuscan Sun! I heard moans but not from me. I grinned from ear to ear, realizing that attitude is the difference between an adventure and an ordeal!

Erika Hoffman

often travels with a group of women to foreign locales. She learns about different places on these trips, but she also learns a lot about herself.

August 2018

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37

Macie McMillan’s Project Backpack

by Leslie Moore

Most kids want toys, games, clothes and electronics wrapped and ready for their birthday every year – but not Macie McMillan. This rising 7th grader uses her special day to collect backpacks and school supplies for children whose families are not able to buy these essential items. Macie also raises money through a lemonade stand every summer and accepts monetary donations to help purchase backpacks and essential school supplies.

Macie’s mom, Holly, remembers when her daughter first decided she wanted to help. “It was several weeks into the school year when Macie was in kindergarten. I told her teacher that my schedule was flexible, and I was available to help whenever she needed me.” Soon after, Macie’s teacher sent a note home with the little girl, telling her to be sure to give it to her mom as it was very important. Holly went on, saying, “The note said that three children in the class didn’t have backpacks or school supplies, so, of course, we went to the store and bought what they needed.”

This event had a huge impact on Macie. She couldn’t understand why her classmates didn’t have backpacks or school supplies. It broke her heart when she saw one of the children bringing a few meager supplies to school in a grocery bag. “I told her she was privileged to have parents who could buy the things she needed, but not everyone shared that privilege,” Holly remembered.

Because of construction, there were no hooks for the children to hang their backpacks, so they had to pile them on the floor. One of the children who received a backpack provided by Holly became very upset when asked to put her precious pink backpack on the floor. She begged the teacher to be allowed to hang it on the back of her desk instead. Holly remembers this well and told me, “Macie came home very sad that day. I asked her why, and she said she was happy, but sad, too. She told me she never worried about putting her backpack

on the floor; she took for granted that she would always have a nice backpack to take to school, filled with all needed supplies.”

The school year passed, but when Macie’s 7th birthday came along that June, she had a special request for her parents. “Macie asked me if, instead of presents, if it would be okay to ask her friends to bring a backpack with school supplies for a needy child.” Holly was blown away by the request and between her friends and family, ended up with 12 backpacks to donate.

The project grew bigger every year. Last year, Macie was able to donate 476 backpacks after she was featured on local television and in the United Methodist Newsletter through her church, First United Methodist Church in Myrtle Beach. “Our pastor submitted her name to the South Carolina United Methodist Association as a junior philanthropist, and between the newsletter and television exposure, people from all over wanted to sponsor backpacks,” Holly told me with pride in her special daughter.

In addition to her lemonade stand, Macie also speaks to service groups in the area, telling them about her Backpack Project.

“It costs about $20 to buy a backpack and stock it with the basic supplies,” Holly began. “So Marcie will tell them if they want to sponsor one backpack it costs $20, but if they want to sponsor five, show her a Benjamin!”

Macie’s younger sister, Malley, is now involved as well. The family had a joint pool party for both girls’ birthdays and ended up with 70 backpacks.

The backpacks and supplies are distributed throughout Myrtle Beach and Carolina Forest – last year Marcie’s efforts helped children in 13 different schools. And the project is still growing!

If you would like to help provide backpacks and supplies for children in need, send checks made out to Macie McMillan’s Backpack Project, 5808 Longleaf Drive, Myrtle Beach, 29577 or drop off checks at First United Methodist Church in Myrtle Beach or the Sasee office in the Litchfield Exchange, behind Applewood House of Pancakes in Litchfield.

38

Sasee.com

August 2018

2018 Lineup October 4

19th Annual Pawleys Island Wine & Food Gala

October 5 Ambrosia

October 6 The Spinners

October 11

KELLY’S

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October 12 Rick Braun

October 13 Edwin McCain

October 18

A premier women’s clothing and accessories consignment boutique!

Contact Us! 843-650-9913

The Drifters

October 19 O Sole Trio

October 20 Tabled Event Three Sheets To The Wind

For Tickets www.pawleysmusic.com or 843-626-8911

STORE HOURS: Mon - Sat 10 to 5 5200 US Hwy 17(Bypass), Unit E Murrells Inlet, SC 29576 kellysconsignmentboutique@yahoo.com All Events Held

at The Reserve Golf Club of Pawleys Island

August 2018 1-29

Concerts in the Gazebo in Village Park Wednesdays, 7pm – 9pm, Sunset Beach, NC. For more info, call 910-367-6396 or visit www.sunsetbeachconcerts.com.

1-31

Fun for Kids at Myrtle Beach State Park Tuesday – Saturday, various nature programs, most free with park admission. For more info, call 843-238-5325 or visit www.southcarolinaparks.com.

1-31

Ingram Planetarium Laser Light Shows laser light display set to classic rock and country music, Mon., Tues., Thurs., Fri., 7pm & 8pm each night, 7625 High Market St., Sunset Beach, NC. For more info, call 910-575-0033 or visit http://museumplanetarium.org.

1- 9/2

The Water’s Fine, exhibit at the Art Museum of Myrtle Beach 3100 S. Ocean Blvd. For more info, call 843-238-2510 or visit www.myrtlebeachartmuseum.org.

2-30

Music on Main Concert Series Thursdays, North Myrtle Beach, 7-9pm. For more info, call 843-280-5594 or visit NMBParksAndRec on Facebook.

3-31

Ocean Isle Concert Series Fridays, 6:30-8pm, Museum of Coastal Carolina parking lot, E. Second St., Ocean Isle Beach, N.C. For more info, call 910-579-6030.

4-25

Farmers Markets Saturdays, 10am - 3pm in Market Common. For more info, call 843-839-3500 or visit www.marketcommonmb.com; 8am – 1pm, 122 Screven Street, Georgetown.

For more info, visit www.historicgeorgetownsccom.

7-28

Calabash Concerts Tuesdays, 6-9pm, Calabash Community Park. For more info, call 910-575-0000 or visit www.calabashconcerts.com.

16

Jimmy Buffet Tribute A1A 7pm, Third Thursday Concerts on the Green, Valor Park, Market Common. For more info, visit www.marketcommonmb.com.

19

Tru Sol 7pm, Brookgreen Gardens’ Cool Summer Evenings, free with garden admission. For more info, call 843-235-6000 or visit www.brookgreen.org.

26

Dangermuffin at The Rectory Lawn 6pm, 3510 Kings River Road, Pawleys Island. For more info, visit www.hammockcoastsc.com.

31

Moveable Feast, Lisa Patton discusses Rush 11am, Inlet Affairs, $30. For more info, call 843-235-9600 or visit www.classatpawleys.com.

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Advertiser Index

42

The B. Graham Interiors Collection................................................................30 Barbara’s Fine Gifts............................................................................................5 Bethea Baptist Retirement Community.............................................................5 Blink Boutique................................................................................................13 Brightwater.......................................................................................................7 Brookgreen Gardens........................................................................................22 Callahan’s of Calabash.......................................................................................3 Cariloha..........................................................................................................11 Carolina Car Care...........................................................................................14 The Citizens Bank...........................................................................................23 Coastal Luxe....................................................................................................44 Coastal Carolina Winery.................................................................................27 Dr. Grabeman...................................................................................................5 Dr. Sattele’s Rapid Weight Loss & Esthetic Centers.........................................21 Eleanor Pitts....................................................................................................35 Fancy Free.......................................................................................................35 Fancy Frocks...................................................................................................27 Good Deed Goods..........................................................................................27 Homespun Crafters Mall.................................................................................22 Honey Do Service...........................................................................................14 Hospice Care of SC.........................................................................................11 House Parts.....................................................................................................22 The Joggling Board..........................................................................................31 Kelly’s Consignment........................................................................................14 Lack’s Outdoor Furniture................................................................................12 La Fayes at 79th..............................................................................................37 The Lakes at Litchfield....................................................................................41 Long Bay Symphony.......................................................................................22

Massage Envy....................................................................................................9 Morningside of Georgetown............................................................................26 Myrtle Beach Watersports...............................................................................15 Owl’s Nest Furniture.......................................................................................26 Palmetto Ace...................................................................................................31 The Palmettos Assisted Living & Memory Care...............................................13 Papa John’s Pizza.............................................................................................30 Pawleys Island Festival of Music & Art............................................................39 Pawleys Island Wine & Food Gala..................................................................43 Physicians Weight Loss....................................................................................34 Prodigy Kitchens & Baths...............................................................................17 Pure Compounding.........................................................................................31 Rose Arbor Fabrics..........................................................................................31 Rover Boat Tours.............................................................................................35 Sea Island Trading Co........................................................................................2 Seascape Designs.............................................................................................13 Shades and Draperies......................................................................................11 South Atlantic Bank........................................................................................26 Studio 77........................................................................................................37 Thrive at Prince Creek.....................................................................................30 Tomlinson’s Warehouse Sales...........................................................................19 Treasures Jewelers............................................................................................37 Two Sisters with Southern Charm...................................................................37 Unity Myrtle Beach.........................................................................................25 WEZV............................................................................................................42 WISH Candle.................................................................................................29 Woof Gang Bakery..........................................................................................30

19th Annual Pawleys Island

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