Sasee Magazine - August 2020

August 2020

“Aging is the knowledge and maturity is the wisdom�

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August 2020 “Joyful Aging”

Contents Volume 19, Issue 8

10

Ikigai & Me & My Writing Career

by Erika Hoffman

14

The Race of Ages

by Karen Sargent

16

Karen Sinkway: Making a Lasting Impact

by Leslie Moore

About the Cover Artist: Alexandra Brehm (born Burgstaller) in 1974 in Salzburg, Germany, scribbled at a very early age on any paintable surface.

At the age of 16, she painted a picture for the first time of her art teacher! It was the beginning of her painting career for the public as she began to commission portraits and orders at artisan markets.

20

Savor the Little Things

by Sandra Nachlinger

22

Maura and Paul Kenny: A Marriage of Art and Nature

by Leslie Moore

26

Margi Fleming: Helping Make Dreams Come True

by Leslie Moore

Brehm participated in many exhibitions and three online art shops as well as painted for personal collectors. In 2015, she took the step to become a full-time self-employed artist, which she has never regretted.

28

Humbled

by Diane DeVaughn Stokes

30

Read It! Reviews by Nicole McManus

32

The Good, The Bad, and The Oldie

by Jeffery Cohen

34

Kim Fox: The Greatest Success is Knowing Yourself

by Leslie Moore

38

An Old Couch, Two Chairs, and COVID

by Lisa Williams Kline

The creative field of the mother of two ranges from portraits and people, places, animals and flowers to erotic and above all abstract painting. Already over 1000 of Brehm’s pictures have been sold nationally and internationally. Many of her paintings are in the privacy of many collectors in Southeast Asia and South America.

You can find more of her art at www.burgstallers-art.de

4 :: Sasee.com :: August 2020

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from the Editor

Publisher Delores Blount Sales & Marketing Director Susan Bryant Editor Leslie Moore Account Executives Stacy Danosky Erica Schneider Gay Stackhouse When I think about my circle of friends, I see a beautiful group of women (and men) who only see age as a number. No matter where they fall chronologically, they have taken aging and made it their ally. One close friend has three jobs – all new challenges she has taken on recently. Several others have professional jobs and still make time to volunteer for organizations they love. All live active, happy lives and are excited about each new day. Growing older feels much different than I imagined when I was younger. I’ve learned to put myself first and take care of this body that serves me so well.

I may not look exactly the same as I did at 30, but I like what I’ve become. I’m much clearer on what’s really important in my life.

This month I interviewed several fascinating women (and one man) who are showing all of us how to age with style. They’re active, vital and work to make our community a better place. I hope you enjoy meeting them as much as I enjoyed writing their stories. Those of you who follow our wonderful book reviewer, Nicole McManus, may know that she is restructuring the monthly Sasee book club. If you’ve been considering joining, this is the perfect time. Find the info on the Sasee Facebook page. In other Sasee news, the new, redesigned Sasee website is up and running. It’s much easier to navigate, and I believe you’ll enjoy visiting. Please leave us a comment and let us know what you think.

Art Director Patrick Sullivan Contributing Photographer Chasing the Light Photography Web Developer Scott Konradt Accounting Gail Knowles 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 © 2020. 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.

6 :: Sasee.com :: August 2020

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Ikigai & Me & My Writing Career

by Erika Hoffman

Okinawans lead long lives. Here in the USA, we’ve been told that longevity is related to eating healthy, exercising daily, not smoking, limiting alcohol intake, and maintaining a healthy weight. The Japanese prescribe to a different set of five habits from those outlined by the 30-year- Harvard study that stated ten years more of life expectancy would belong to folks who follow the above dictums.

Because I practice only two of the American pronouncements, I think I’m going to put my faith in the Ikigai lifestyle, which urges folks to find a sense of purpose, meaning and motivation in life to secure Shangri-La. In reviewing the five maxims associated with Ikigai, I see how much this modus vivendi has in common with the way I take care of myself.

The Okinawans think that one should start small. Cultivate a small garden first, and do it right. Isn’t this advice given at writing conferences? Start with a letter to the editor or a piece about some local event written for the local newspaper.

Don’t begin your writing career by trying to rival John Steinbeck’s The Grapes of Wrath or worse, Leo Tolstoy’s Anna Karenina.

The second pronouncement of Ikigai is to release yourself, in other words, practice self-acceptance. You must be happy with who you are. Again, at writer’s conferences the lecturer tells us wannabe scriveners to be authentic. If you write a piece that makes you cry as you pen it, chances are it will evoke the same emotion in your reader. Don’t be fake.

The third axiom regards harmony and sustainability. To live a long life, one must have a sense of community which gives a person support and motivation. Join. If you are a writer, join organizations like NCWN, TAF, or Carteret Writers. I name these three because I’m a member of all three. Online there are communities for writers as well. Some folks find small critique groups of value. Everyone needs a brotherhood to which to belong. Writing is the same.

Ikigai emphasizes the importance of the joy of small things — like a cup of coffee, or the sun on your cheek, or even the sight of familiar faces you might see on the train to work.

My old grandma used to fix herself a cup of tea midday and savor it. My dad used to crack that it was just a Lipton teabag in some boiling water, and what was so delicious about that?

Yet, my grandma enjoyed it as she’d gaze out the window at the garden and note the weather or what flowers were blooming. She appreciated simple pleasures. A writer too 10 :: Sasee.com :: August 2020

must savor the small delights. Maybe someone comments on a piece you’ve written for an ezine. Maybe someone sends the editor of a magazine a compliment about a story you submitted. Maybe an essay that had been rejected six times is accepted by the seventh editor. Maybe you get a check in the mail for your article. Maybe you win a contest and the prize is publication of a mystery you worked on for five years. Celebrate all the small things that are gratifying, and then celebrate some more when a big accomplishment occurs.

Finally, Ikigai tells you to be in the here and now, which is not unlike what many religions tell you to do. Mindfulness is the key to happiness, longevity, and writing. Be aware of your surroundings. Listen to how folks speak and what they converse about. Pay attention to fascinating stories your neighbor tells you. Hear the birds chirp and record those noises that give background to your plot. Same with the other senses. Make yourself cognizant of the universe.

If you don’t pay attention to the world around you, you’ll not be able to replicate it well as you relay it. Mindfulness makes you perceptive. And being perceptive makes you a better writer. In addition, you’ll produce more because you will now live to be 100!

“

Don’t begin your writing career by trying to rival John Steinbeck’s The Grapes of Wrath or worse, Leo Tolstoy’s Anna Karenina.

”

Erika Hoffman writes vignettes about her life and also writes essays about her thoughts on her life and sometimes she composes fiction, too. If you like her style or are entertained by her musings, then search for her books on Amazon.

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The Race of Ages

by Karen Sargent

The line in the dirt had been drawn. On one side stood my husband, the official of the race, assisted by our excited seven-year-old. Her hands cupped her mouth. “You can do it, Mommy!”

From the other side of the finish line, I eyed the expanse of gravel separating me from a coveted victory 25 yards away. Then I sized up my competition–my daughter Kelli, a scrawny 62-pound tween with legs like a gazelle. I looked down at my own legs, two sausages in shorts.

She must have sensed my moment of doubt. “You’re going down old lady.”

I put on my game face. “Don’t be so sure little girl. When I was your age, I was the second fastest girl in my grade, only —” “— Sandy Allen was faster.” Kelli finished the familiar declaration. “Yeah, yeah. Ancient history.”

A smile broke her competitive façade. She clearly enjoyed disrespecting her elder in the name of competition. But she was right. That was ancient history. And with 40 staring me in the face, I felt pretty ancient. Why had I agreed to this?

Could I even make it to the finish line? More importantly, could I make it to the finish line without injury? I leaned into a lunge to warn my leg muscles what was ahead.

Kelli laughed. “What are you doing, Mom?” “Stretching.”

“That’s not stretching. This is stretching.” She grabbed her ankle and bent her leg back at the knee until her tennis shoe touched her shorts, perfectly balanced on one leg like a flamingo.

I lunged on the opposite side, centering my weight, trying not to tip. “You sure you’re ready for this?”

She moved into starting position. “Yep.” She may have been ready to cross the finish line first, but I wasn’t ready for her to claim a victory. This race was about more than the win. Stuck between a little girl and a teenager, Kelli was running from childhood. As for me, a new decade loomed ahead. In spite of my fear of bodily harm or humiliation, I was running to beat middle age. This would be an important win – for one of us.

14 :: Sasee.com :: August 2020

I joined Kelli at the starting line, twisting the toe of my back foot into the gravel for traction. My husband stood beyond the finish line, his arms spread wide. The first to slap his palm would be the winner. Our youngest daughter bellowed with exhilaration. “Ready!”

Kelli and I exchanged a final glare of feigned intimidation.

I winked and fixed my sites on the finish line.

“Set!” I took a breath…possibly the last one I’d get for the next 25 yards.

“Go!” My back leg thrust my body forward as my front foot reached ahead to grab ground and push it behind me. But, somehow my weight had tripled. My leg muscles mutinied as I strained to keep up with Kelli floating beside me. She edged ahead.

Five steps in; my body, age, and common sense declared the race was over.

But I was determined the pain I’d feel in the morning wouldn’t be for nothing. I locked onto my target, my husband’s outstretched left hand. “Run, Mommy, run!” mixed with the crunching of gravel beneath my feet. I pushed. I plodded. I plowed ahead. Then suddenly, my body caught up with the forward momentum. Each step came easier. Each stride stretched farther. The gap between my age and my daughter’s youth began to narrow. Kelli glanced back and shifted gears, to no avail. A few more steps and our shoulders were even.

The finish line zoomed into focus. My youngest daughter squealed. My husband’s hand fluttered, encouraging me to reach it. Did they think I could win? Were the years still on my side?

My legs reached forward with force and purpose. I was half a step ahead of Kelli…a full step ahead! Then…she disappeared.

I didn’t look back. The finish line rushed toward me. The sting from a palm-on-palm slap declared my victory. My little one danced in circles. “Mommy, you did it!”

Lungs burning, I turned to see Kelli, but she still hadn’t crossed the finish line. She was bent over, hand covering her mouth, shaking with laughter. She attempted a few steps toward us but stumbled and lowered herself to the ground.

Her little sister galloped to her. “What’s so funny?”

Kelli shook her head as tears bubbled over and rolled down her flushed cheeks. We chuckled too, although we didn’t know why.

Breathlessly, Kelli forced words between giggles.

“Mom’s bu—” “Mom’s butt—” “It jiggled so much!”

Her face contorted with noiseless laughter, so deep I worried a lack of oxygen might damage her brain. Finally, she sucked in a breath and looked up with awe. “Seriously, Mom. I’ve never seen anything jiggle like your butt.”

I tried to be offended, but a smile broke through my gasps for air. After all, my derriere was attached to me. I felt the big Jello earthquake.

I playfully slapped away the hand she had extended for me to hoist her to her feet. “But I jiggled faster than you ran… and that makes me the winner!”

“No fair!” She scrambled up on her own. “You didn’t win. I couldn’t finish. I was laughing too hard.”

“Oh, it’s fair. Fair and square.”

She took her protest to the official of the race. “Dad!” He held up both hands and shrugged. Smart man.

I put my arm around her shoulder and squeezed. “It’s OK. You didn’t have a chance. I was the second fastest girl in my grade when I was young.”

“Yeah, yeah.” She rolled her eyes and grinned. “Someday we’re gonna race again, and I’m gonna win.”

My screaming legs assured me we would not compete again.

But as I leaned into my daughter and the top of her head reached my chin, my heart warned me someday she would indeed win the race.

Karen Sargent A recently retired English teacher, Karen Sargent is pursuing her writing dreams. Her writing is featured in Chicken Soup for the Soul and Guideposts publications. Her novel, Waiting for Butterflies, is the 2017 IAN Book of the Year.

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843-546-6858 • www.doodlebugschild.com Sasee.com :: August 2020 :: 15

Karen Sinkway: Making a Lasting Impact

by Leslie Moore

Jim’s health had declined and I couldn’t work any longer,” Karen remembered.

“I studied history, biology and art history in college, and was a French language major,” Karen told me as she shared her love of Brookgreen. “It fits in perfectly with my interests.”

Karen and Jim had visited Brookgreen as tourists before they moved here permanently, and soon after their move, the family became members. “I’ve always done a lot of volunteer work for our church also, which kept me busy while I was working.”

“We all want our community to be a better place to live and work,” Karen said when I asked her why she decided to devote so much of her time to volunteering. “You meet wonderful people, have a lot of fun and give back – it’s a win-win!” After Jim passed, Karen joined the Friends of Brookgreen, a volunteer organization that holds special fundraisers for the non-profit twice a year. “After I joined, they decided I should be the chair for our Brew at the Zoo fundraiser.” Karen laughed at this, but told me it was a lot of fun and very successful. “We raised $27,000 last year!”

Every day, hundreds of people in our community, mostly without recognition, get out and do the work it takes to keep hundreds of non-profits and churches functioning and able to fulfill their missions. Murrells Inlet resident, Karen Sinkway, is one of those dedicated volunteers. Outgoing, friendly and quick to laugh, Karen has channeled her love for animals, art, music and people into an incredible variety of volunteer work – all with a lasting impact. “Before the quarantine, I had something to do almost every day.”

Widowed, Karen lives alone with her two dogs, a cavashon and a poodle. Her poodle is still a puppy and his antics have kept her busy and entertained over the past months of quarantine while much of her volunteer work was on hold. “My late husband, Jim, and I moved here in 2002 from Bucks County in Pennsylvania,” Karen began. “Our daughter, Rebecca, was 11 at the time. She is married now and lives in Myrtle Beach. I also have a stepson, James, who lives in Surfside Beach with his wife, Holly.” Karen’s two grandsons, James’ sons, are currently attending the College of Charleston.

Before Karen retired, she worked at Brookgreen Gardens, serving as an Interpreter for history tours, and eventually becoming former CEO, Bob Jewell’s executive assistant for 4 ½ years before his retirement. “Around the time Bob retired, 16 :: Sasee.com :: August 2020

I was fascinated by Karen’s work in Brookgreen’s Frog Watch Group. This group helps scientists gauge the health of our environment through counting the calls of various species of frogs and toads. “We are citizen scientists,” Karen said proudly. “We had to study and be certified to provide data to the AZA (Association of Zoos and Aquariums).” Karen learned to identity frog and toad calls and would sit outside every night, recording what she heard. “Amphibians are very susceptible to the health of the environment. I would record the temperature and the weather as well as the number of calls.”

Brookgreen’s current exhibit of Bruce Munro’s light installations, Southern Light, includes a frog exhibit, complete with lights and the sounds of frogs, and Karen helped with the installation. “You can hear the real frogs, too, when you’re out there!”

Even when time doesn’t allow her to volunteer, Karen’s sense of community has an impact. When Karen and Jim decided to move to Murrells Inlet, Rebecca was, at first, not happy to leave her home and friends. “We promised her horseback riding lessons,” Karen said. “She had always been fascinated with horses, and I taught horseback riding during the summers while I was in college, so we were both excited.”

Continued on Page 18

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Sophie, Rebecca’s horse, had a serious leg injury a few years ago and while she can no longer show, she is perfect as a therapy horse. “Sophie now lives at Barnabas Horse Foundation where she’s been a therapy horse for six years.”

Karen added that Sophie and a friend’s horse, named Lady, volunteered at two of Brookgreen’s Kentucky Derby fundraising events providing photo ops for the guests.

Karen told me that her mother, age 93, has only stopped volunteering because of the quarantine. “She’s always volunteered with the symphony and still supports them, even at her age. She keeps moving and is still driving and lives alone with her dog.” Laughing, Karen said, “She has been complaining she can’t get her bridge club together because of COVID-19.”

“The first time I remember volunteering, I was vacationing in Florida with my parents. They were looking at a brochure, and I slipped away and volunteered myself to hold a five foot indigo snake around my neck.” Karen chuckled and said that was not something her mother would have done! “I really love all animals, but I think dogs and horses are my favorite.”

“The quarantine has helped me relax a little,” Karen admitted.

“These days, my social life is going to my neighborhood park in Wachesaw.” Residents are allowed to bring their dogs every afternoon and Karen enjoys seeing dogs of every size and breed. “We all chat outside at a safe distance.”

As Karen and I continued to chat, I was amazed by her list of talents, and how she so willingly shares them with all of us. “I’ve always sung in church choirs and sang with the Coastal Choral locally. When we lived in Tennessee, I sang with the Nashville Symphony Chorus and in Pennsylvania, the Pittsburg Oratorical Society.” While Karen’s church, St. Paul’s Waccamaw United Methodist, is not having services at the time of this interview, she is still involved, recently recording a duet to be aired during a virtual service. And, there’s more. Also through her church, Karen belongs to a group, Blankets for Babies, that knits blankets, sweaters and caps for an organization in Georgetown.

“I dabble in a little bit of this and that,” Karen laughed when I asked her what else she did. “I took my first sculpture class last year and it turns out I have a knack for it. I think if you’re interested in something, you should pursue it. We get complacent staying at home. It’s easy to fall into depression or lethargy if you don’t keep moving.”

18 :: Sasee.com :: August 2020

As we finished our interview, Karen shared some of her personal philosophy that keeps her active and volunteering as much as possible. “I believe some of the problems we have today are because people isolate themselves and don’t get involved. It’s easy to get suspicious of others – the more you are involved in your community, the more you understand it. People who are retired should volunteer. And have pets!

Both will bring you joy.”

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Savor the Little Things

by Sandra Nachlinger

Sometimes, when a big thing is missing, little things have their chance to shine.

Last summer I hiked the Naches Peak Loop at Mount Rainier National Park with a group from the Auburn (Washington) Senior Activity Center. I’ve taken this hike before, and it’s always a thrill. There are enough ups and downs to make hearts pump, but the trail also holds long stretches of smooth, level ground – opportunities to pause, inhale the mountain air, and drink in the park’s beauty. Dramatic rock formations rise along one section of the path, telling the history of the volcano’s ancient eruptions. Mountain ponds reflect the evergreens and nearby peaks. On clear days, Mount Adams appears in the distance. This 3.5-mile trek is truly a nature lover’s paradise.

About halfway through the loop trail, the big payoff emerges.

Hikers come around a bend and … BAM! Mount Rainier fills the horizon. It’s enough to take away anyone’s breath, no matter how many times they’ve seen The Mountain. Its glaciers sparkle and its massive bulk overwhelms even the most jaded hiker. On a sunny day, it’s dazzling.

On my last visit, however, the weather for the Naches Peak hike wasn’t ideal. Drizzle dotted the windows of the senior center van, and clouds drifted up from the valleys, obscuring views of the surrounding mountain peaks. Hike participants zipped up waterproof jackets and stretched covers over backpacks before we started up the trail. Wet weather doesn’t deter this group of seniors.

Low clouds lent an eerie beauty to Tipsoo Lake as we skirted its shore. Then the path turned and led us straight up a hill covered in wildflowers – mountain heather, Indian paintbrush, rosy spirea, yellow broadleaf arnica, bluebells, and more. Sometimes the varieties bloomed together in a multicolored bouquet, as if someone had taken a packet of assorted wildflower seeds and broadcast them in the wind.

Other times, drifts of white bear grass or an ocean of blue lupine performed monochromatic shows. Wispy clouds rose from the meadows, softening the scene, obscuring the mountain after which the national park was named.

As I splashed through puddles, stepped carefully across slick rocks, and jumped over rivulets, I wondered why I’d never 20 :: Sasee.com :: August 2020

really noticed the wildflowers before. Had I hiked this trail at the wrong time of year? Had I been preoccupied by the need to avoid tripping over rocks or roots? Why were blooms at the center of my attention today? Then I realized what had happened. Since the star of the show – the omnipresent snowy slopes of Mount Rainier – had failed to make an appearance, my sights focused on the more pedestrian beauty right at my feet.

I think this is often true in life. We’re bombarded with important information – things that demand our attention – and we look past the smaller joys. When loud voices assault our ears, gentle whispers are lost in the clamor.

Lowly wildflowers can be overlooked when the grandeur of a magnificent mountain dominates the scene.

I hope the vivid memories of Mount Rainier’s wildflowers will remind me to savor the little things that come my way when bigger things take center stage. If I pay attention, they can bring as much joy as nature’s more majestic creations.

“

Then the path turned and led us straight up a hill covered in wildflowers – mountain heather, Indian paintbrush, rosy spirea, yellow broadleaf arnica, bluebells, and more.

”

Sandra R. Nachlinger

is the author of two novels (so far!): I.O.U. Sex (co-written with Sandra Allen) and Bluebonnets for Elly. She enjoys sewing, quilting, writing, reading, spending time with her granddaughter, and hiking in the beautiful Pacific Northwest. She blogs about all those things and more at SandraNachlinger.blogspot.com

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Maura and Paul Kenny: A Marriage of Art and Nature

by Leslie Moore

While we chatted in their home tucked away on a quiet street in Pawleys Island, Maura and Paul Kenny told me repeatedly how fortunate they feel to have such satisfying lives. Both are recently retired from prestigious careers, and because they loved their work, Maura and Paul have combined their knowledge and experience into a new body of work that suits their laid back lifestyle.

and email, so I had to think of something fast.” Maura did go to that bank the next day and a lifelong love was born. The couple married in 1981.

The day we met, Paul and Maura were waiting on the birth of their first grandchild, a girl, Murphy Rose Kenny. A huge pink package sat on the hearth of a stone fireplace, waiting to be taken to their son Billy’s home in Charleston where he lives with his wife, Aly Murphy. The couple also has a daughter, Emily, who lives in Rock Hill, South Carolina, with her husband Jackson Emerson.

By 1980, Paul knew that he wasn’t suited for a banking career, and after meeting Maura living in the States seemed even more attractive. So when he had the opportunity to attend Coastal Carolina University, he never looked back. “I sold my car and my few possessions, and came to the states with about $3,000.” Luckily, tuition at Coastal wasn’t very expensive in the ‘80s, and combined with a few scholarships he was able to make ends meet. He found Marine Science was a perfect fit having grown up on the coast of Ireland.

He was a regular member of the Irish Surf Team and always had a fascination for life in the ocean. Opportunities in Marine Science were limited back then, so Coastal Carolina was the perfect place for Paul.

“While studying at Coastal, Dr. Richard Dame hired me to work on a primary productivity grant at USC’s Baruch Maine Lab during the summers.”

“After I graduated in early 1983, Dr. Dame asked me if I would delay moving on in my career and work for him for a year. He had lost a technician and I already understood the job.” Paul agreed and that one year transitioned into a 35 year career of scientific discovery.

Even after living in the States since 1980, there is still a hint of a pleasant Irish accent in Paul’s voice. He first told me the story of how he and Maura met. “We met in a pub in Ireland in 1976.” Maura interjected, telling me with a laugh that the pub’s name was Durty Nellie’s. Maura had taken a job teaching art in an elementary school in Connecticut right after college, and she and a friend decided to take a trip to Ireland during their summer break. Continuing, she said, “Paul talked me into coming to the bank where he worked the next day, saying he’d give me a better exchange on my dollars.”

After working for four years as an elementary school art teacher, Maura decided to go back to school to focus on her art and develop herself as an artist.

She received her MFA from UNC-Greensboro about the same time Paul decided to attend Coastal. “When he told me he was moving to Conway to attend Coastal, I decided to go with him,” Maura shook her head, remembering how moving to a completely new place seemed easy at the time. “We knew nothing about the area and lived in a tent for a week before finding someplace to stay. I started to work part time at Coastal and fortunately, they eventually hired me full time.”

The couple laughed remembering, and Paul continued this romantic story. “I knew if I didn’t say something, she would leave and I’d never see her again. This was before cell phones 22 :: Sasee.com :: August 2020

“My father raised seven children,” Maura said, as we talked about her life as an art educator. “When I told him I wanted to be an artist, he asked me to think about being an art

Maura began talking first, telling me about her years as an art professor at Coastal Carolina University. “I started working for CCU when it was still a part of University of South Carolina in the mid-1980s,” she began. “In the 34 years I worked there, we went from a small art department of four or five faculty members to a department of 20 when I retired in 2018.” This dedicated educator went on to tell me that many of her students have gone on to do wonderful things in all areas of the arts.

teacher so I could always support myself. He didn’t want me to be a starving artist!” It was a good choice, and between her years as an elementary school art teacher and college art professor, Maura taught for 40 years, enjoying every minute.

“I believe the youth of today is amazing – they are open and accepting and so creative. I’ve learned so much from them.”

“I began working on a project, funded by NSF, measuring primary production of Spartina, figuring out how much carbon the marsh grasses produce,” Paul told me, when I asked about his work. “It turns out that southeastern salt marshes are one of the most productive ecosystems in the world, rivaled only by tropical rain forests.” Next, Paul worked on a shellfish research project, spending the next five years studying the ecology of oysters and how they fit into the ecosystem of North Inlet. “Oysters are a keystone species, which means without them the entire ecosystem would fail.”

By 1989, Maura and Paul were both established in their careers and lived on the Hobcaw Barony property in the gatehouse by the highway. “When Hurricane Hugo c ame t hrough that September it destroyed our lab,” Paul told me. “Five feet of water flooded the building and the tidal surge moved it off of its foundation.” Paul added that he and Maura, along with their six month old daughter, rode out the monster storm in a dorm building on site.

from the upstate or from states around the country, and many of them had never been out on the water. To see them ooh and ahh over a dolphin sighting or learn something new about the ecology of the environment was very gratifying.” Even before he retired, Paul would take people interested in learning about our environment out in his personal boat.

Now, in retirement, he runs boat tours, with his business, Low Country Eco Adventures, that educates his passengers on a variety of topics, including history and ecology.

“One of my great joys is being on the river or out in Winyah Bay because the landscape is so beautiful,” Maura told me, as she began to talk about her current projects. “If I can make a painting that is moving enough to show what’s out there, I am very gratified. Many people don’t have access to the rivers or a boat and have no idea about the beauty of our waterways.” Maura also has an interest in historical sites and learned the fundamentals of oil painting from her mentor who owned a 17th century historical house museum in Connecticut. Through Maura’s art and Paul’s extensive scientific knowledge, the two have morphed their careers into something they both love.

Since her retirement, Maura has worked exclusively as an artist, creating quite a large body of work, focusing on portraiture and the natural world. On September 24th, her

By 1992, the Baruch Marine Lab was rebuilt and the North Inlet-Winyah National Estauarine Research Program (NERR) was established. Paul was then hired to work for the NERR. “I was the first technician with USC to run basic water quality programs,” Paul said. Because of his tenure at the Marine Lab, a few years later Paul was hired into a “hard” position, one not funded by grants. In this position, he worked for Dr. Dennis Allen on his plankton and fishery surveys, and oversaw the general use of the facility and helped researchers get started. This involved a change in many of his responsibilities, requiring him to get his boat captain’s license. “I was responsible for an education program taking college students out on a boat to show them, in the real world, what they learned in books at college. I did that for nearly 20 years.” Paul loved his work with the students. “It was a wonderful experience. Oftentimes, students would come Sasee.com :: August 2020 :: 23

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work will be featured in a show titled, Where the Rivers Flow, at The Art Museum in Myrtle Beach. “The paintings feature vistas and structures and people from our travels on the Waccamaw River, the Pee Dee River, Winyah Bay and our time cruising and oystering in the salt marsh of North Inlet. It’s a miniscule part of what’s out there, and I hope it piques people’s interest in our rivers.”

Maura has finished all of the paintings for her upcoming show and will spend the summer preparing. She also is in the middle of another series of paintings that combines figures with natural elements.

Maura’s introduction to Laura Herriot, well known Sandy Island resident and owner of Wilma’s Cottage, the only bed and breakfast on the island, led to another exciting project for this prolific artist. “I first met Laura when our friends and colleagues, Lee Brockington and Linda Ketron, hosted an open house and fundraiser to help pay for much needed repairs to Wilma’s Cottage,” Maura said as she told me about her latest partnership. “Paul had been asked to ferry people back and forth, and I stayed at the house. Paintings of Laura and her granddaughter will be a part of my show.”

“Linda is publishing a book about Sandy Island, Sandy Island: Now and Forever, and asked me if I would be interested in painting the cover,” Maura told me, obviously excited about this work. “I told her I had a series of river paintings and took 15-20 paintings for her to see.”

Linda loved Maura’s work and has incorporated most of them into the book. “For one chapter, Linda needed a painting of the rice chimney on the old Laurel Hill Plantation, now a part of Brookgreen Gardens. So Paul and I set out to find and photograph it.”

The couple did find the chimney and said it was like searching for a needle in a haystack. They found the coordinates on Google Maps and used GPS technology to direct their boat to the exact point. From a boat in an overgrown rice canal, Maura was able

to get enough visual info to complete the painting. “We were quite excited about finding it. And I’m so grateful to Linda that she thought about including me in the mix of wonderful writers and photographers involved in this book.”

Paul is continuing to share his extensive knowledge of the area through his work as a private boat captain. “I enjoy taking people out to the third largest watershed on the East Coast and educating them on the history of the rice culture.” Many of Paul’s trips have been cancelled this year, but he is looking forward to doing ecology trips for the USC Marine Lab’s education programs and is also working with the Baruch Foundation on other educational boat trips. “Having the history of working at the marine lab, I have a different understanding than most about the ecology of North Inlet.”

I asked the couple how a life entwined with so much natural beauty has shaped who they are. “I’ve developed a deep love for this part of the country,” Paul began.

“From Brookgreen down to Awendaw, we have more than 500 square miles of property that will never be developed.

You won’t find that anywhere else on the East Coast.”

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“I have tied my teaching career with my environment,” Maura said thoughtfully.

“Paul had a major hand in opening my eyes to the environment of our area, and it’s fed a passion to capture that in my paintings.”

To see more of Maura’s work, find her on Instagram, @maurakennyart.

Locally her work is available at Island Art Gallery in Pawleys Island.

Paul is currently accepting limited reservations for ecological and historical boat tours. Contact him at Captpkenny@aol.com.

Sandy Island: Now and Forever, featuring Maura’s art, will be available for sale in the Art Museum of Myrtle Beach, Art Works in the Litchfield Exchange and Litchfield Books.

Release date is September 15th.

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make contributions on your behalf based on what you put in – try your hardest to take advantage of that full match. If not, you are in essence leaving free money on the table.

Are there different types of accounts?

Yes there are MANY retirement accounts. I have mainly talked about employer-sponsored accounts since that makes up the majority of the retirement population, but you can also save money in an IRA (Individual Retirement Account) if your company doesn’t offer a retirement plan. There are also several different retirement options within work plans, some of the more common are 401K, 403B and ESOP - Employer Stock Ownership Plans.

Margi Fleming:

Helping Make Dreams Come True

by Leslie Moore

As Vice President of Marketing and Human Resources for The Citizens Bank, Margi Fleming is passionate about helping people prepare for living their best life.

Margi, tell me a little about yourself.

I am originally from Abbeville, South Carolina, and now live with my husband and two daughters in the small farm town of New Zion, South Carolina. I graduated from Winthrop University in 2006 and enjoy spending time with my family and friends, reading and cooking. After a busy day or week at work, coming home to the country refreshes my soul.

What should our readers know about their retirement accounts?

Ironically enough, one of my passions is making sure our employees are preparing for retirement now! The younger the better. I tell anyone who will listen to start saving early or at least start NOW! A lot of people think that they can’t afford to save for retirement. I offer a different strategy – if you can’t contribute 5%-10%, that’s okay – start at 1% then auto increase your contribution on an annual basis - before you know it, you will be at 10%.

If you work for a company that offers a “match” where they 26 :: Sasee.com :: August 2020

In addition, you can set money aside in most of these account types in two different ways – Traditional or Roth.

In traditional plans, you set money aside “pre-tax” so you will pay taxes when you withdraw the money during retirement.

In a Roth account you set money aside “after-tax” so you pay taxes on it now, but not when you withdraw it (and not on the gains). So there are benefits to each, you can work with your tax advisor to assess which way is best for you.

Tell me about accounts The Citizens Bank offers. For our customers, we offer FDIC insured IRA accounts, and we have an investment representative that can discuss a plethora of expanded options to meet every need out there. Just call your local branch and they can explain further or schedule a meeting.

It is obvious you love your work.

What are your favorite parts of working in finance?

I have worked at The Citizens Bank since November 2006.

I started out as a Mortgage Originator, and then switched over to Human Resources. Later I added Marketing, and I also assist with special projects.

I love working at TCB for many reasons. My top reason is the awesome team that I work with. Our bankers really care about their customers, teammates and the communities they serve – and that makes such a difference. Secondly, being a local community bank allows me to wear several different hats. For me this is important, it allows me to continue to expand my knowledge of all areas of banking and work with different teams that I may not always get to work with on a daily basis.

Locally, The Citizens Bank has branches in Murrells Inlet (843-651-4420), Pawleys Island (843-237-5777), and Georgetown (943-527-5000). Learn more by visiting www.thecitizensbank.cc. Currently, branch lobbies are open by appointment only, but drive through banking is open during regular business hours.

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Humbled

by Diane DeVaughn Stokes This era of the COVID19 virus has been very frightening but also very humbling – incredibly humbling. It’s been weird not being able to go where we want to go, when we want to go, and see whom we wish to see. Our freedom was taken away so to speak, for our own benefit I may add, and we’ve had to adapt to many changes. And Lord knows change is hard at this age.

The most humbling of all for me was that without makeup my phone did not recognize me for eight weeks! Every single time I picked up my iPhone to call someone, text, or messenger a friend or family member, the face recognition feature blew me off! Then I had to submit to keying in the secret identity code every single time. I was totally insulted.

Okay, we all know that make-up does make a big difference for everyone. Mom still reminds me to never go to a store to try on clothes unless you look your best because everything you try on will look like crap! But did I really look that drastically different that this SMART PHONE did not know it was me? I guess so. Certainly these phones are not so “smart” after all. Had they been developed by a female, there would be a feminine option offering women a chance to submit two photos when setting up security: one with make-up and one without!

I must admit that when my husband helped me set all this up when I first got my phone, as he is my technical guru, I looked like the “Happy Hooker!” In case you are too young to know who the Happy Hooker is, it’s the name of a sixties movie whose leading character is loaded up and down with makeup. But as a television personality, I do have to wear quite a bit more make-up than the normal wear due to lighting and HD cameras that show every flaw! (I’m convinced I should have retired before facing HD technology.) But the day we created the phone face recognition, I was all dolled up and ready for Hollywood!

It really bothers me though, that this fancy, very expensive phone can GPS me to any location. It can let my husband know where I am at all times, darn it. It can do my banking.

It can let me know if someone other than me uses my charge card. It can connect me, by way of Facetime, with anyone in the world. Yet, it could not recognize me without make-up, au naturel, in all of my glory, the way God made me?

Or maybe it was more about my hair that caused my phone to snub me! I did not think the jokes were funny about knowing 28 :: Sasee.com :: August 2020

who all the real blondes were during this lockdown! You ladies over fifty and older know what I am talking about. Of course I did wash and blow-dry my hair regularly during the stay-at-home quarantine period. However, at week number three gray roots were starting to peek through, and that made me feel ancient. By week number four, they weren’t just peeking, they were screaming through. Heck, I usually see my favorite hairdresser JP every three weeks, so I had no idea how bad the gray actually was. Yikes. So I started wearing a headband over the roots, or a baseball cap, or sunvisor whenever Chuck and I would walk on the beach, visit with my mom, or walk our dog Cagney. Heaven forbid if anyone noticed my aging roots!

Most of you who know me, know I am not vain. I sometimes go to the grocery store without make-up. And frankly I hate wearing it. I even went to a few neighborhood yard gatherings during this pandemic without being made-up.

But the hat never came off. There’s just something about gray hair that makes me crazy, yet I admire my friends who have embraced their gray. I especially love seeing seventy and eighty-year old models in magazine or television ads that look knock-em dead gorgeous in their silver tresses. I guess I’m just not ready. Even my mom is a great example of beautiful gray hair. At eighty-seven she still has several black streaks going through it. People ask her all the time who colors her hair, and she always feels like she is lying when she says she has never colored it! But with my luck, if I made the big move toward full gray commitment, my hair would probably be a mousey gray as it was mousey brown in high school. Ho hum!

The only saving grace with my smart phone during the lockdown was that “Oliver” never let me feel inept and inadequate. He is my sexy Australian Siri. With one flirtatious phone request from me, Oliver will search out any personal or business phone number in my roster, or pull up info from the Internet for me. He never sasses me, is very respectful and could care less how I look morning, noon or night.

“

Heck, I usually see my favorite hairdresser JP every three weeks, so I had no idea how bad the gray actually was.

”

But he can be pretty freaky at times too, as he may see nothing but hears everything. He knows my likes and interests and can relay them to some higher power that momentarily will send me information on the very subject being discussed. One evening Chuck and I were chatting about our next dive trip, which did not happen due to this pandemic, but within minutes I had information arriving on my phone about diving. Now that’s scary. As a result, I never take my phone into the bedroom! I don’t want Oliver to know everything. Besides, I know without a shadow of a doubt he is insanely jealous of Chuck, because he knows there is only one man on earth who loves me more than he does. And that man is Chuck who never cares how I look. On my messiest days, he will say, “I am so blessed to be married to this gorgeous woman.” Then he sings the Billy Joel song, “Just the Way You Are.” (Hey don’t kid yourself. I know he is full of it! But I love hearing it.)

How lucky am I to have two men who adore me in all my blasé everyday splendor? Again, I am so humbled.

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–Read It!–

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My One and Only Cowboy, by A. J. Pine

Sam, his brother Ben, and their friend Colt, are just starting out with their Meadow Valley Ranch. They have a few guests, but they are hoping business will increase through word of mouth.

However, when an unexpected woman shows up and tells Sam that the land he bought years ago was illegally sold, everything he has worked for is in jeopardy. Delaney’s car breaks down and she realizes she is stuck at this ranch for at least a week while the town celebrates autumn. Will these two determined souls be able to find a way to accomplish their dreams? Or will the desired land keep them both in agony?

A. J. Pine gives readers a very cute romance story. The main couple is driven not only by their individual pasts, but also by unknown future forces. The romance builds quickly, as well as the individual growth.

Cowboys, firefighters, and animals are set in a small-town, so there is something for every type of romance fan. Readers will be excited to read Ben’s story this fall, and hopefully Colt’s story next year.

For the first time in a very long time, I read a book with an Alzheimer’s storyline. I did not know it, when I started this book, and for that I am grateful, because I would have probably avoided it. I am beyond grateful for the author’s writing and staying true to the family emotions. I cannot wait for the second book in the series.

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The Night Swim, by Megan Goldin

Rachel Krall has a very successful true crime podcast where she has helped solve cold cases. However, for this new season she wants to try something different.

Rachel travels to the small town of Neapolis to cover the town’s controversial rape trial. While there, she is contacted several times, and sometimes in disturbing ways, by a fan who needs her help. Hannah never believed that her sister drowned twenty-five years ago, but she needs Rachel to find out what happened. Will the truth come out or will the town continue to protect its own?

The author seamlessly combines methodic courtroom drama with gripping psychological suspense. This book will keep readers up long after they have finished the last page. While it might be easy to correctly guess the guilty party from the past, readers will want to see how events unfold and if justice is served in both cases. Megan Goldin brilliantly inserts readers into the mindset of the characters, and Hannah will live in their hearts for years to come.

This is a must-read for all mystery and thriller fans.

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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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The Good, The Bad, and The Oldie

by Jeffery Cohen

I was talking to my brother on the phone the other day. “How are you doing?” I asked.

“Oh, you know. The old back is acting up again.”

“I know what you mean. I get the same thing and then my left leg goes numb,” I answered.

“That’s nothing. When the crick in my neck starts up, I see stars,” he explained.

“Yeah, it starts in the neck then shoots right down the shoulder,” I added. “But it can’t be worse than that burning feeling I get in my hands.”

“Geez, that burning feeling is horrible. Probably arthritis,” he said.

“Yeah, arthritis...or something worse.”

“Yeah...or something even worse,” he mumbled. “It keeps me up at night, and just when I finally do drop off to sleep, I have to get up to go to the bathroom.”

“How many times do you get up to go to the bathroom?” I asked.

“Four times a night.”

“I’ve got you beat there. I get up five times.” It was a competition I wasn’t exactly thrilled to win. “Ever lose your balance?” I asked.

“If I stand up too fast – and you?”

“If I stand up too fast, sit down too fast, if I close my eyes...”

I explained.

“Well, you’ve always been a little unbalanced anyway,” he said. I could hear him snickering on his end.

“I guess we’re just getting old,” I said.

“Getting old? Don’t be ridiculous,” he answered. “We’re not getting old. We ARE old!”

With that we both laughed like two old codgers do when they realize the inevitable truth. Then we ended the conversation with words our Dad, the old philosopher, passed on to us many years ago. “Sometimes you just have to take the good with the bad.”

32 :: Sasee.com :: August 2020

I have to admit that the golden years did kind of sneak up on me. One day I looked in the bathroom mirror and I spotted a gray hair. I actually thought it was funny. Me, still so young, so vibrant, with a gray hair. I shrugged my shoulders and forgot about it. A couple of weeks later that single gray blade turned into a silvery patch. Interesting, I thought, premature gray. It actually made me look a bit distinguished. But, a few months after that, I found myself staring in that same mirror, a reflection of a gray mop staring back at me. It was only then that I began to notice the map of lines and creases that were etching into a face that now looked more like the Wicked Witch of the West than Dorothy of Kansas.

I immediately ran down to the local pharmacy and searched the shelves for a coloring that would bring back my former luster. I wanted something that would look natural enough so that no one would ever know that I was dyeing my hair. I think I chose something called Autumn Delight or Almond Beauty. Next, I wandered down the aisle of gels and creams that guaranteed to rid you of those unsightly lines and wrinkles. I even toyed with the idea of sending for some information on the miracles of plastic surgery and its promise to return those youthful years. As far as I was concerned, in my head I was still in my twenties. It was this darn body of mine that was refusing to cooperate. As it turned out, that “natural” hair color was closer to Bozo the Clown in the sunlight. The wrinkle cream made me feel like a greased pig and it smelled just as bad. And when I researched a face lift, the lifting seemed like way too much trouble.

I started to think that maybe a new wardrobe might wipe away a few of the years that had piled on. Something more “with it.” I remembered the days when I sacrificed comfort for the newest fad, balancing on platform shoes while trying

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not to trip over the flare of my bell bottom pants while I avoided choking myself with a string of love beads. Running from one department store to another, I tried on dozens of hip outfits, and each one made me feel like I was modeling a Halloween costume. Each youthful-looking outfit made me look even older. When I began to gravitate to the plaid flannel shirts and sweat pants, my wife rolled her eyes. “Why don’t you buy some decent clothes instead of dressing like an old man?”

I decided to share the hard truth with her. “I AM an old man, and I think this old geezer has earned the right to be comfortable.” I reminded her that Albert Einstein, the smartest man in the world, dressed in over-sized clothes for the sake of comfort.

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“So, you think you’re another Einstein?” she said.

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And then there is my favorite – the senior moment. If I can’t find my glasses (even though they’re resting on top of my head), if I can’t remember whether I shut the stove off and have to ride ten miles back home to check (it’s always shut off), or if I don’t recall who played the tin man in the movie, The Wizard of Oz, someone my age or older is quick to throw me a sympathetic smile and whisper, “You’re having a senior moment.” If that’s so, then I’ve been having senior moments since I was a senior...in high school! My memory has always been hit or miss. I can sometimes remember things like the name of the first girl I ever danced with in the first grade, but what did I do with those car keys?

I have to admit, getting old isn’t all bad. It has its perks. I can ride the bus or the train for half fare. I get a discount at fast food restaurants. I can see a movie at a special senior price. Kids call me sir, as though I’m royalty. When someone accidentally bumps into me, they actually say excuse me, and someone once even offered their seat to me on the subway.

So, when those old aches and pains of age come calling, they’ll find me lounging around in an over-sized sweat suit, wolfing down a half price burger after seeing an old Betty Davis flick for just a couple of bucks, and thinking of my advanced years philosophically. Sometimes you just have to take the good with the bad.

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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Sasee.com :: August 2020 :: 33

Kim Fox:

The Greatest Success is Knowing Yourself

by Leslie Moore

tracks when I told him– asking me why he paid for a college education so I could make below poverty level.” Kim laughed, remembering this pivotal conversation. “I just knew Litus was the place I wanted to start my career.”

In 1987, Kim lost her job when new tax laws made investing in second homes less attractive. “I was hired by Briarcliffe Mall as the Marketing Director,” Kim remembered. After two years, Kim moved up the ladder of success again, and went to work for Davis Advertising. “They had just landed The Litchfield Company account, and I was asked to manage it.”

Successful, smart and attractive, Kim Fox learned early in life to follow her bliss. From her first job right out of college to running her own successful marketing business, Kim has been guided by her “what feels right” approach as well as a love for making a difference.

The day we chatted, Kim was at home in the house she shares with her life partner, Chris Thomas. The couple lives on Midway Creek in Pawleys Island, and never tire of its beauty.

“We’ve been together for 13 years, but many people don’t know that we dated in 1986,” Kim began. “I was working for the Litus Corporation, and we hired an ad agency to do some design work. Chris was the art director.” Both were dating other people at the time, but, ironically, broke up with their respective partners around the holidays. “Chris asked if I’d be interested in going to each other’s holiday parties and I agreed. One thing led to another and we started dating.” The relationship only lasted a year, but the two remained friends.

Years later, Chris moved to Pawleys Island. Again, one thing led to another and Kim and Chris found each other once more – this time for life.

Kim’s parents divorced when she was 10, and she spent most of her childhood in Florida with her mom, but her father lived in West Virginia, and had a vacation home in Myrtle Beach where Kim visited often. “I came here after my college graduation to spend time with my father,” Kim began. She decided to check the job listings in the newspaper, saw a few she liked and decided to apply while she was in the area. “The first couple of jobs I investigated were not what I wanted, but I saw that Litus Corporation had an ad, and I met with Randy Wallace.” Randy hired Kim on the spot to help promote his then-new development in North Myrtle Beach, Bay Tree Golf Resort. “Dad and I went for a walk on the beach, and he asked me how much I would make. He stopped dead in his 34 :: Sasee.com :: August 2020

Eventually, Kim realized she wanted to expand her skills by working for a larger agency and moved to Clearwater, Florida, to work for FKQ Advertising. “I was the right hand person for the daughter of the owner,” Kim said. But, no matter where Kim went, she always ended up back in the Grand Strand area. “Before I left for Florida, I was handling The Litchfield Company account. This was during the time they declared bankruptcy after Hurricane Hugo.” When The Litchfield Company came out of bankruptcy, they called Kim in Florida to ask if she would come onboard as their Marketing Director. “I was hired to work for four years. This was extended until 2002 when we developed The Reserve, but at that time, my work with The Litchfield Company was pretty much done.”

It was suggested to Kim that she should start her own company. She was familiar with hiring experienced freelancers and building teams to solve a business’s marketing issues. “I started Fox Marketing in 2002.” Kim told me real estate resort amenity communities are her specialty.

“I don’t do what I do for the money – I do it because I love it – I can’t image doing anything else,” Kim told me. “My commerce is that I’m making some kind of impact – on a person’s life, business or on a non-profit.”

I asked Kim about her life and faith outside of the office and she shared another fascinating story. “I grew up in church; before my parents divorced they were very active. My mom became the president of the women’s circle, which was a big deal then.” Continuing, Kim said, “Down the street a Baptist church burned to the ground. My mom went to the minister and said she wanted to invite the women of that church to join her circle while the church was rebuilt. The minister said no – because that Baptist church was an African American church.” Kim’s mother left the church, never to return, and after her parent’s divorce, Kim stopped attending as well.

“My good friend, Troi Kaz, used to ask me to go to church with her at All Saints in Pawleys Island,” Kim said, remembering. “She finally convinced me to join a group studying Rick Warren’s book, A Purpose Driven Life. I agreed to go to church and the study group – and it changed my life.”

Today, 12 years later, Kim is an active member of Christ the King Grace Waccamaw Church in Pawleys Island. “I have grown so much in my faith. I feel like I walk in church on Sunday carrying the dirt and soot and mess of the week, and I walk out clean again.”

Kim is also passionate about her volunteer work with many area non-profits. “Currently I’m chair of the board of directors for Teach My People,” Kim shared. “I’ve been involved for about 15 years. I have a passion for this ministry because I’ve witnessed life changing experiences with our students.” Kim shared a wonderful story that exemplifies Teach My People’s wonderful work. “Our first graduate from Teach My People went to Newbern College and got a job in Human Resources after he graduated. He soon realized this wasn’t his calling and wanted to go back to school. He came home and is now working for us as our 5th grade teacher!”

Kim continued, saying this young man works for Teach My People while attending Wesley University where he is studying for his Master’s Degree in Counseling. “He is the representative of what Teach My People is all about,” Kim said proudly.

I asked Kim to share her advice for younger women starting out in their careers. “I think people should listen to themselves a little more. Let your friends and family weigh in, but ultimately it’s your decision – let your feelings and dreams drive where you go and what you do. Like the walk on the beach with my dad – I had this tickle in my tummy telling me that this was the right place for me to start my career – and I’ve trusted my heart and the tickle in my tummy throughout my life.”

“I love Pawleys Island,” Kim said as we finished our chat. “I’ve been blessed to be able to travel quite a bit and have never found anyplace I love more. Why should I retire? People work and save their entire lives to come here to live.”

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An Old Couch, Two Chairs, and COVID

by Lisa Williams Kline

In our first year of marriage, thirty-five years ago, my husband and I acquired a sectional couch with a subtle beige and white pattern. Don’t ask me why I thought a white background was a sensible choice in a house with five cats.

I was young. It was expensive. I thought it looked elegant.

Once our oldest daughter was born, this couch was where everyone sat to take pictures. We have multiple photos of my parents, Jeff’s parents, and our friends sitting on this couch holding Caitlin as an infant and toddler, and then, a few years later, holding our younger daughter, Kelsey. As the girls grew, we sat on that couch to listen while they practiced piano. My book group sat there for book discussions.

Over the years, I vacuumed and spot-cleaned that couch, washed the pillows repeatedly, and finally had it recovered.

It moved with us four times, from a place of honor in our first living room to being hidden upstairs in my office in our present home. It went from being the hallowed spot for family photos to a repository for books and manuscripts and a place for our (now one) cat to sleep and sharpen his claws.

A few weeks ago, I admitted it was time for the couch to go.

Thirty-five years is an exceptionally long life for a couch. I ordered two sleek recliners to replace it.

And then the difficulties began.

One day, two giant boxes appeared via “contact free delivery” on our front porch. Jeff and I struggled to get them in the door.

“We’re weaklings,” he said. “I’m not sure we can move these bad boys.”

“Bad boys?” I teased my husband. This was the term he always used with things that were really heavy.

By the time we had them inside we were exhausted, and Jeff had nearly thrown his back out.

“Let’s worry about these bad boys tomorrow,” I suggested.

The following day Jeff and I used all the strength we had to pull the two recliners out of the boxes. Finally, huffing and puffing, we dragged them out and managed to dislodge the Styrofoam packing.

38 :: Sasee.com :: August 2020

“The comments on the web page said assembly was simple,” I assured Jeff.

He gave me a shocked look. “Assembly?”

The assembly video had suspiciously soothing music playing in the background. The guy looked unruffled, never breaking a sweat as he attached the seat to the back. That morning, we watched it 1,239 times.

We were both sweaty and uttering words we hadn’t used since our twenties.

Finally, both chairs sat in the front hall, assembled. And Jeff and I were, miraculously, still alive and married.

“We should have carried the pieces of the chairs upstairs before we assembled them,” I told Jeff. “Now these bad boys are too heavy for us to carry.”

“Are you making fun of me calling these bad boys?” Jeff asked.

“Yes,” I said.

“Well, yeah,” Jeff admitted. “We should have. But we didn’t.

What about these boxes?”

“We’ll worry about them tomorrow.”

The following day, we broke down the boxes, loaded them in the car and Jeff took them to the recycling center. Back home, he said he had only a minor conflict with the recycling employees who wanted to fine him fifty dollars for putting the Styrofoam in the wrong bin, but was finally able to correctly dispose of it.

“

Over the years, I vacuumed and spot-cleaned that couch, washed the pillows repeatedly, and finally had it recovered.

”

Meanwhile, I called some charities to see if they’d come get the couch. Because of COVID, several weren’t picking up donations. The ones that were still picking up asked people to bring items out on their front porch so the volunteers wouldn’t have to come into the house.

How to get the couch down the stairs and out onto our porch?

I called our daughter Kelsey and offered dinner if she and her boyfriend would come help us. She said they’d be delighted.

A few days later, Kelsey and Seph showed up looking confident. We had sadly only seen them a few times since the onset of COVID. “We just need to move these bad boys upstairs,” Jeff said.

“Bad boys, Dad?” Kelsey said, and we all erupted in laughter.

“Easy peasy,” said Seph.

And for them, it was. They helped Jeff carry the new chairs upstairs and with much teamwork maneuvered the couch down and onto the porch. We were insanely grateful, since we’d had the chairs sitting in our front hall for four days.

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The following day, the charity truck pulled up and my husband joyfully greeted the volunteers. However, the moment they stepped on the porch, they shook their heads.

“This couch is too old,” said a white-haired volunteer. “We can’t put this out on our floor. We can’t take this.”

“But do you know how much work it was to get this couch out here?” Jeff protested. “We can’t take it back inside by ourselves.”

The volunteers were unsympathetic. They swung back into their truck, leaving the couch sitting on our porch.

“What do they mean, it’s too old? It wasn’t too old for us!” I complained. “Doesn’t everyone keep couches for thirty-five years?”

We scrambled to find another charity that might come. After a slew of phone calls, we finally did.

I didn’t sleep well that night. I dreamed that the second charity also refused to take the couch. Then had a terrifying nightmare about being called to account before the homeowners’ association. Jeff told me I worried too much.

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That next morning Jeff and I paced the kitchen after breakfast.

“Take some twenties in your pocket when you go out there,” I suggested. “If they refuse to take it, you can offer to pay them to take it to the dump.”

“Good idea,” Jeff said.

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At last the moment of truth arrived as the truck pulled up in front of our house. The volunteers greeted Jeff by giving him the printed receipt for our donation. My heart was in my throat. Miraculously, the volunteers tossed the couch and its faded pillows into the back of the truck and pulled down the gate. Jeff handed them a tip to seal the deal. They seemed pleased. Then he and I stood breathlessly inside the front door, looking out, until the truck pulled away.

“They took it! They took it!” We danced around in our front hall, dizzy with relief.

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We went upstairs and lowered our old bodies into our new chairs.

“This chair is so comfortable, I don’t think I can get up,” Jeff said.

“These bad boys are so nice, we can keep them for at least thirty-five years,” I added. And I reflected with gratitude over the years of our marriage, our family, and the health and happiness we’ve had.

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Maybe they did take it to the dump. Maybe someone who recovers couches took a look and decided it had good bones. At any rate, our old couch, home to posed photos, kissing sessions, arguments, wrestling matches, piano practice sessions, discussions about books, boyfriends, and current events, foot rubs, piles of manuscripts, and many generations of cats, had transitioned to a new existence. It felt bittersweet. The end of an era.

Lisa Williams Kline’s essays have appeared in Sasee, Skirt, Carolina Woman, Literary Mama, and others.

Recently one of her essays was a finalist in the North Carolina Writers Network Rose Post Creative Nonfiction Competition. She is the author of ten books for young readers, the most recent of which is One Week of You. She lives in North Carolina with her veterinarian husband and several spoiled pets. Visit her website at www.lisawilliamskline.com.

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