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September 2017

The only true measure of success is the amount of joy we are feeling -Abraham-Hicks-


Volume 16, Issue 9

September 2017

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A Real Blast by Linda O’Connell Read It Review by Nicole McManus Sasee Asks an Expert Answers About Hyaluronic Injectable Cosmetic Fillers By Dr. Goh - Grand Strand Plastic Surgery A World Away By Sally Gosen Case Sasee Asks an Expert How to Buy Art by Barnie Slice Girls’ Day by Melissa Face Sasee Will Never Forget 9/11 Memorial at Midway Fire Rescue by Leslie Moore Sasee Asks an Expert Enjoy a Happy Life at Any Age by Britta Cammarata, MS, MA, NHA-CRCA, Carolina Gardens Assisted Living Administrator And First Place in the 80-84 Female Runner Goes to... by Carrie Slayback

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Kids Read It Reviews by Nicole McManus Same Old, Same Old By Erika Hoffman Sasee Asks an Expert Choosing Jewelry to Last a Lifetime by Wendy Wowk - Jewelry by Wendy The Joke’s on You by Rose Ann Sinay Sasee Asks an Expert Revisiting the Old Classics, Discovering the New Europe: Part II by Maria Cartwright - Premiere Travel Just Me and My – Umbrella-Cycle by Lynn Ingram Heaven Sent Rainbow by Diane DeVaughn Stokes Sasee Spotlights Art: Myrna McMahon and Georgetown Art Gallery by Leslie Moore

September Calendar Chef Secrets to Fun & Healthy School Lunches by Leslie Moore


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letter from the editor I stopped by the grocery store on my way home from the office the other day, something I frequently do, especially since my son came home from his French adventure. Feeling tired and not at all excited to be shopping, I hurriedly pushed my cart up and down the aisles, grabbing what I needed with my mind focused on getting home rather than what I was doing. Most of the shoppers I passed that afternoon looked like they felt much the same as I did about being in the grocery store. As I completed my chore, I pondered a couple of minor things that were bothering me, nothing too serious, but my heart felt a little heavy as I pushed my shopping cart to the front of the store and looked for the shortest checkout line. To my delight, I found a cashier with no customers! She greeted me with a huge smile and a “How are you?” As I loaded my purchases on the conveyor belt, we started chatting. I shop at this store frequently, so I knew this lovely young woman as a happy, friendly soul. After I mentioned how nice it was to see someone in such a great mood, she started talking about how happy she is and told me people asked her all the time if she ever feels angry or down. “Of course I do, I’m human,” she laughed. “But, usually, I get distracted and forget all about it.” Her peals of laughter were like a balm on my frazzled spirit. She continued talking, telling me about her amazing husband and family, and the joy she felt just radiated from her eyes. As I paid for my purchases, my wise friend told me, “Happiness is an inside job you know!” I walked out of the store on air, my steps lighter than they’d been at any point that day. By sharing her joy in life, my friend reminded me of my own blessings – and there are too many to count. And she is right – happiness IS an inside job.

Cover Artist Almost Home, by Celia Wester A Charlotte, North Carolina, native and mother of two, who now calls Georgetown, South Carolina, home, Celia enjoys painting local scenery and shorebirds. The color, texture and patterns of nature are woven throughout her subject matter. “My objective is to create a greater awareness of all that is around us and to ensure that we do not miss the flower for a view of the garden,” she said. Recognized for her versatile style and use of detailed imagery and vivid color, Celia has been featured in a number of publications, and her work is hung in homes throughout the United States. Celia’s 30 year career includes art festivals, industry exhibits, mural painting and illustration. She is also a two time winner of the Pawleys Island Festival of Music & Art poster contest. Through September 25, Celia’s work is on exhibit at the Rice Museum/ Prevost Gallery in Georgetown South Carolina. Her paintings can also be viewed at Island Art Gallery in Pawleys Island, South Carolina, Charleston Artists Guild Gallery in Charleston South Carolina, Prince George Framing & Art in Georgetown, and Sunset River Marketplace in Calabash, North Carolina. Visit her website at www.cwesterstudio.com.

who’s who Publisher Delores Blount

Art Director Patrick Sullivan

Sales & Marketing Director Susan Bryant

Photographer & Graphic Artist Aubrey Glendinning

Editor Leslie Moore

Web Developer Scott Konradt

Senior Account Executive Celia Wester

Accounting Sophia McCallister

Account Executives Amanda Kennedy-Colie Erica Schneider Gay Stackhouse

The only true measure of success is the amount of joy we are feeling 6

-Abraham-Hicks-

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 © 2017. 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.


A Real Blast by Linda O’Connell

As I drove home after a terribly, trying day of teaching preschoolers, I looked forward to a relaxing shower. No, I required a shower. I was desperate to erase the day’s disasters. It wasn’t the blue tempera paint stains smeared on the undersides of my forearms; the dried, red-tinted glue on my left elbow, or even the glitter that I wore on hidden parts of my body. It was the stress sweat that had drenched me when three students simultaneously had explosive incidents. I slipped the trash can under one’s child’s nose and mouth and told her to deposit her upchuck in there. I rushed a little boy to the miniature toilet to finish his business, and when the third kid sneezed and it reverberated from deep inside her, I yelled for Amy, my co-teacher to catch the stream hanging from her nose. Mucous always makes me gag like a toddler refusing broccoli. At snack time a child ingested his juice, and then he snorted it out his nose like a circus clown. I should have been quarantined due to my contamination from slobber, snot and potty accidents. Exhausted, I was happy to pull into our driveway. My heavy school bag thudded to the floor. My purse landed in the heap. My keys jangled like my nerves. When I kicked off my shoes and walked across the carpet, it looked like my fairy godmother was flying low, scattering glitter dust in my wake. I couldn’t wait to feel hot water pulsating down my back. I envisioned myself standing in my shower. I would pretend I was in the lush tropics, luxuriating under a waterfall. I’d drift away from my own reality on my own imagination. I entered our pink tiled bathroom and stopped in my tracks. Where was our fancy, white shower curtain with embroidered pink rosettes? Why was there a towel in the bottom of the tub? Taped to the mirror was a sign in my husband’s teeny tiny chicken scratch handwriting. I went in search of my reading glasses. DO NOT USE BATHTUB. I shouted, “Hey, Tim the Tool Man, where am I supposed to take a shower?” “Honey, I told you I wanted to replace the wall tile. Just think, you could have had a modern upgrade, but you want to keep this vintage 1950’s look. Do you know how many sink selections there are at the big hardware store? Lighting fixtures? But I decided to grout the tile 8 and honor your wish to keep your pink bathroom. It will only be out of

commission for a couple of days. I’ve rigged up a temporary shower in the basement for you. Come on downstairs and see.” We passed through our beach-themed family room. Bill bragged about his rigged up shower all the way into the laundry room, and continued into the basement area, so proud of his creation and ingenuity. He told me in great detail how he had connected one end of a short piece of green garden hose to an old, plastic, hand-held shower head, then screwed the other end onto the faucet of the slop sink near the washing machine. He had suspended a frame made of PVC pipes from the rafters, and zip tied the shower head to the frame. I couldn’t believe his idea of a shower curtain: a clear plastic, Dollar Store drop cloth as flimsy as Saran Wrap.


I wasn’t as thrilled as he was, but I grinned and knew I had to bear it. I admitted it would work, temporarily. I was getting the willies imagining creepy kid germs crawling all over me. I desperately needed to get wet. I rushed upstairs for my fluffy towel, and headed downstairs with my lavender-scented body wash. Then I remembered I had forgotten my pink scrubby. So, I ran back upstairs. I clomped back downstairs, stripped, and then I scratched an itch on my left leg with my right foot and realized my legs felt like sandpaper. I was overdue for a shave if I planned to wear a skirt to school the next day. I wrapped most of myself in a towel and trudged back upstairs for my lady razor. I stomped back to the basement, hung up my towel. Eww! I looked at the peeling battleship-gray paint on the cement floor and decided I would rather wear rubber shoes than stand barefoot near the sewer drain. Up I hobbled one more time. Breaking a sweat and breathing hard, I flip-flopped back down those stairs a fourth time. I hung my towel again, loaded my scrubby with calm-inducing fragrant liquid soap and turned on the faucet. The lukewarm, gentle stream didn’t compare to my shower preference of hard, pulsating, scalding water, but I had no choice. The trickle was just enough to wet me and my wad of pink netting. I lathered my face and body with so many soap bubbles I couldn’t see an embarrassing part of me. With my eyes squeezed shut, I reached out and felt around for my pink razor. Not there! I turned the faucet on full blast to rinse my face, but the overhead stream suddenly reduced to only a trickle. At that instant I knew something was terribly wrong. I heard that cheap shower head blow across the laundry room and ricochet across the floor. The foot-long section of garden hose blasted a hard stream of blinding water directly at my eyes. I screamed and backed up into the flimsy, plastic drop cloth. It encased me like shrink wrap on a plucked, plump deli chicken. I twisted this way and turned that, but I was completely trapped. Bill shouted from the top of the stairs, “I forgot to tell you, don’t turn the faucet on full bla...”

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–Read It!– Nicole Says…Read

Ascension of Larks by Rachel Linden

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Review by Nicole McManus


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(843)267-0096 Maggie Henry is used to traveling to remote villages all around the world and documenting people’s daily lives. She learned the hard way that she can help change people’s lives by photographing their hardships. However, when Maggie receives word that her best friend’s husband, Marco, has passed unexpectedly, she races to their island home to help care for their young children. When Maggie is offered the opportunity of a lifetime that would equal an incredible boost to her career, Maggie must decide between helping her friend’s family or following her dream. Add in the fact that Maggie has been in love with her friend’s husband since they were schoolmates, and there is a mysterious new man on the island who is responsible for the accident that took Marco’s life – Maggie is forced to come to terms with the past and find her own path to peace and happiness.

irony of one person trying to tackle an uphill battle versus that of an entire community coming together to conquer the mountain. Maggie’s personal struggles of coming to terms with her past, in order to open her heart, as well as choosing between helping her friends or following her dreams, is a significant lesson each of us has to learn.

Rachel Linden provides a stunning storyline with her debut novel. Her characters are relatable, and their struggles force readers to experience the same emotions. The novel starts in a desolate village that the author brings to life, opening readers’ eyes to another world. She explains the

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.

I was enchanted by the title of this book. It was in my stack of to-read books, but it kept calling my name. When I picked it up, I wasn’t prepared for the overload of details and feelings. This book was like a painting, each page sprawling out in front of me, encompassing me in a universe full of emotions. I look forward to reading the author’s next book.

Nicole McManus

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Answers About Hyaluronic Injectable Cosmetic Fillers

by Kimberley B.C. Goh, M.D., Grand Strand Plastic & Reconstructive Surgery Hyaluronic injectable fillers are products used to add volume to the face. Hyaluronic acid is a chemical protein found in the human body that can now be duplicated in a laboratory. They are well tolerated, do not require a skin test prior to injection and the results are immediate. Fuller lips, better cheekbones or a more prominent chin can be achieved without surgery. Injectables can be used to fill wrinkles or folds in the face, giving a younger, fresher and healthier appearance. There is another product that stimulates your own collagen to replace volume, but the results are not immediate and it takes up to two months for you to see the new growth. I use this product if there is a very large volume to restore in the cheeks or temples. The deeper the need for volume in soft tissue, the thicker the injectable should be. Some of the fillers may last up to 2 years. These are the ones I typically use deep in the cheekbone area. The nasolabial folds can be addressed with the more moderately thick fillers. These typically last 6-12 months, but there is a new one that may last up to 18 months. If you just have fine lines around the mouth, there are two fillers that are very thin and do a good job. The thinner fillers last from 6-12 months only. Any injection may cause some discomfort. Depending on your pain tolerance, the injection can be done with no anesthetic, a topical anesthetic or a nerve block. With the hyaluronic acid fillers, the results are immediate. However, there may be some swelling or bruising that may take 3-5 days to settle. Lips tend to swell more than other areas. Do your research about the available products. How long do they last? Who is doing the injecting? Clearly outline your expectations to your surgeon.

Kimberley B.C. Goh, M.D. Grand Strand Plastic & Reconstructive Surgery Visit www.kimberleygohmd.com for a list of products we use at Grand Strand Plastic & Reconstructive Surgery.

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A World Away by Sally Gosen Case

I have friends with second homes, empty-nested couples with children long since grown and gone. I know my share of snowbirds, fleeing coastal winter storms to relax in the desert, and then turning tail on the summer heat to cool off on the beach. Not for me, a single gal with a kid in college and a nine-to-five, scribbling away my evenings. I’ve been lucky to keep one roof over my head, let alone two. For me, an occasional weekend camping trip has always had to suffice. But camping in, say, January is a dismal pursuit: a few hours of watery daylight bookended by the yawning blackness of a winter night. I persevered, wrapped in two sleeping bags beside a small mountain of books, but it seemed that there ought to be a better way to escape. I began to eye the crumbling old shed hunched in a corner of my property. The roof had gone shortly before my husband’s protracted illness; now the inside was a moldy mess. Spiders festooned the soggy beams with their webs. Large, unmentionable, many-legged bugs skittered across the stained concrete floor whenever I dragged open the sagging door. Perhaps this could be torn down, I thought. Just hauling it away in a giant dumpster would increase the value of my property. It would improve the view. Maybe those bugs would flee to the neighbors’ sheds. Perhaps something could be rebuilt on that stained concrete slab. But the budget…oh, the budget would be thin. And the builder…I didn’t know any builders, but the ones my friends knew never seemed to finish anything. Even in my most optimistic moments, I could not envision my son and myself raising the walls of a new building, and never could we build something as wide and sturdy as that old shed, however moldy it may be. It had been constructed by a previous owner, a jewelry artist, to house his stonecutting machines. The bare wooden walls were casually draped with thick electrical wires that radiated out from a terrifying black box. Dozens of nails rusted in the beams, pounded in halfway for some unfathomable purpose. But people do clever things. I see them

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smiling out from magazine pages and websites. Perhaps I could do a clever thing, too? There are a few folks who have bravely stood beside me in my stupid adventures. My brother is one of those people. I called him. He arrived with a serious collection of power tools and a long list of bad news. When all was said and done, though, the old shed had a new roof and sturdily repaired, termite-free walls. The sagging old door was gone, replaced with a sliding glass one left over from a friend’s project. There was no sign of bugs. There was hope. We had to power-wash not only the outside, but the interior, as well. My son and I scraped and sanded, pulling out piles of nails. We filled the walls with mismatched insulation remnants; after all, who would know? We put up ceiling panels marked with dents from being blown off the top of my vehicle onto the highway at rush hour. A new electrical box inspired me with enough confidence to install real wiring (it’s amazing what you can learn on the internet). Wall panels came from the scratchand-dent bin at our local hardware store. Paint and paint and more paint, thrift-store curtains and a Craigslist futon sofa. Deck paint and a rug on the stained floor. A modest outdoor kitchen in the porch area. Eventually we had our garden house, a home away from home. It has no Wi-Fi, because we never take our computers out there. There is no cell service, because we leave our phones in the house. There are table games, puzzles and a fire pit. There are trees and birds, the sound of the ocean, and a view of our gardens. We spend lazy summer afternoons under the kitchen porch’s party lights, cooking on our shiny black Craigslist barbecue. Long, cold winter evenings are spent in the embrace of our cozy little cabin, laying out card games and dominoes. We wake to patterns of morning light filtering through the trees and savor a simple breakfast with the birds. When I was growing up, my father told me that lifestyle has nothing to do with income. There are people who live large on very little, and people who are poor despite their money. Sitting in my “second home,” I concur. Whenever work gets stressful and life is smothering, I can grab my ever-present books and spiral notebooks, pad out through the wet grass, and go on a vacation in the woods. I fall asleep to the murmur of the ocean and wake to the robin’s song. It may be just my back yard, but it’s a world away.

Sally Gosen Case

lives and writes on the beautiful Oregon coast. Her poetry and nonfiction have appeared in a wide variety of publications, including Horticulture, Rocky Mountain Rider, and Time of Singing. Sally and her son coauthor a popular Oregon travel blog, casingoregon.com.


How to Buy Art by Barnie Slice

We seem to have trouble when it comes to buying art. I don’t know why but lots of folks are afraid they will buy something wrong or that it may not fit the criteria of the ethics of decorating.

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When it comes right down to it, buying art has only two criteria: (1) Do you like it and (2) is it in your price range? Nothing else matters. I have talked to so many people who thought you had to meet some kind of standard to buy art. You had to consult an expert or a decorator to do your selection for you. Decorating trends have changed over the years and you can mix anything with anything nowadays (within reason, of course). It just boils down to the simple fact that if you see a painting you like a lot and can afford it, go ahead and purchase it and enjoy. Framing your piece is another problem for some people. In the old days, back in the ‘50’s and ‘60’s, it was common for people to buy picture frames to match their furniture. If you had mahogany furniture your picture frame had to be made of mahogany. Things really have changed here, too. Of course, you want to buy a frame that looks good with your painting, but be careful. Your frame should complement your painting not overshadow it. If you look at your painting after it is framed and the first thing you see is the frame, you got it wrong. Some artists are using “gallery wrapped” canvases to paint their work on and it does not need a frame. The bottom line here is that if you are shopping for art just purchase what you want and like. You won’t be sorry you did. Barnie Slice is a South Carolina artist who grew up in the state and has lived here most of his life. He loves to paint scenes of South Carolina especially the low country where he has lived for nearly 20 years. He has been painting for more than 60 years and works mostly in acrylics and watercolors. He teaches art in the OLLI program at Coastal Carolina University here in Pawleys Island and paints on a daily basis. He is part owner of Island Art Gallery but displays his work in other galleries around the area. He may be contacted at bslicejr@sc.rr.com.

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2017 Lineup September 30 5th Annual Seaside Palette & 8th Annual Chalk Walk Georgetown Historic District

October 5 18th Annual Pawleys Island Wine & Food Gala October 6 Artrageous

Music, Art and Dance extravaganza

October 7

Grammy Award-winning

Delbert McClinton October 13 “You’ve Got A Friend”

Carole King & James Taylor Tribute

October 14

Grammy Award-winning Singer-Songwriter

Melissa Manchester October 19

Grammy Award-winning Bluegrass Group

Balsam Range October 20 Joe Gransden Big Band

October 21 Tabled Event Masters of Soul Motown

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Girls’ Day by Melissa Face

It begins with one of the three of us throwing out some dates for consideration. We check our calendars, sort through our work schedules, our kids’ practices and games, and confirm sitter availability. We mark our calendars and cross our fingers, hoping that nothing happens to interfere with our Girls’ Day.

Girls’ Day is a really big deal. Coordinating the schedules of three moms and six kids is no joke. Airon, Jordan and I are all very busy women, and our kids are involved in many activities. And because getting together is so difficult, we only manage to pull it off a couple of times each year. But each Girls’ Day is always worth our efforts. First we decide where we want to go. We usually take a shopping trip, but we’ve occasionally veered off that path and gone to a theme park or a movie. Then we decide who is going to drive. We try to take turns, but it doesn’t always work out that way. Finally, we commit to a meeting location and a departure time and pray that nobody’s kid gets sick the night before our trip. We had a close call before our last Girls’ Day. Airon’s daughter spiked a fever, and she feared she may have to cancel. Jordan and I texted her messages of support that evening and thankfully, her child’s fever was down in the morning and she was eating, drinking and playing. Girls’ Day was still on! When the three of us get in the car together, we spend our drive catching up. There is so much to discuss: hubbies, kids, work, life goals, etc. But one of the most important questions posed at the start of the trip is, “Where are we going for lunch?” Our lunch is more than just a meal;

it’s an experience. It is a time for conversation, laughter and entirely too much cheese on our pasta. We never know when to quit. Something happens when we get together. We revert to our childhood silliness with bouts of contagious laughter, and just about anything can trigger one of these episodes. Earlier this year, it started when Jordan pulled out of our restaurant parking space and left the minivan’s sliding doors open as she drove around the building. We could tell people inside the restaurant were staring at us, so we circled the building again. And again. I don’t know how Jordan managed to drive with tears blurring her vision. We all laughed until we cried and yes, we are almost forty. And no, we were not drinking. Girls’ Day is a big deal because of the scheduling it requires and because of the enjoyment we get out of lunching and shopping together. But what really makes these day trips special is the bond we share. Airon, Jordan and I have known each other since kindergarten, and we’ve been close friends since middle school. We go way back to school dances, sleepovers, cheerleading camps and Halloween parties. As teenagers, we smoked cigarettes together and blamed our tobacco stench on one of the others. We also experimented with a little bit of vandalism. Yep, those Speed Limit 88 signs in Wakefield were our handiwork, not our male friends’. In college, we drove my dad’s car to a night club in Virginia Beach after promising him that we were staying close to home. Then we refilled the gas tank to its previous level, not knowing that my dad had written down the mileage. As young women, we stood together at each other’s weddings and later celebrated the births of our children. Our friendship is bound by numerous happy moments as well as times of significant loss: the death of a parent, a sibling, and the dissolution of a marriage. It is not an exaggeration when we say that we have been through it all. We currently have a date set for the next Girls’ Day. We have already begun discussing purchases we need to make and where we would like to eat. But we know that those things are only secondary. We will laugh and talk no matter where we go. And though our topics of conversation have changed throughout the years from boy troubles to concerns about medical tests, we are still the same souls. A friendship that survives more than three decades is a rare thing. I’m so grateful to be part of one, and I cannot wait for Girls’ Day.

Melissa Face

lives in southeastern Virginia with her husband and two children. She teaches English, writes essays, and spends a little too much time on Facebook. Email Melissa at writermsface@yahoo.com.

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Sasee Will Never Forget 9/11 Memorial at Midway Fire Rescue by Leslie Moore

Since 1961, Midway Fire Rescue has been providing service for an 80 square mile area, from Litchfield Beach to DeBordieu Colony. From an all volunteer department, it has grown to include three full-time paid stations with 64 full-time career and 15 volunteer positions. Led by Chief Doug Eggiman, the three stations expect to respond to more than 4,000 calls for assistance this year alone. Chief Eggiman started volunteering for Midway Fire Rescue in 1985, was hired in 1986 and made chief in 2003. This veteran firefighter was honored by the opportunity to oversee the placement of a 9/11 Memorial in 2011 at Headquarters Station. “We, of course, have a tremendous connection with the firefighters that were lost on 9/11. And, our community has many transplants from the New York City area that were there that day or knew someone who was lost,” the chief explained when telling me about the acquisition of this amazing piece of history. A few years after 9/11, public entities were offered the opportunity to acquire a piece of the World Trade Center. There were stipulations – the piece had to be displayed where the public could see it, and it had to be handled with the utmost respect. “We thought it would be appropriate to create some kind of memorial for our community,” the Chief remembered. It took close to a year, but Midway Fire Rescue was approved for this great honor. The piece was picked up and driven to Pawleys Island by a Midway Rescue Squad volunteer who retired to our community from the New York City area. When the piece arrived, the next decision was how to display it. “We wanted it outside where the public would have easy access.” Before any decision could be made, the station was approached by a Boy Scout, Austin Meares, who wanted to fund, design and 20 build the memorial as his Eagle Scout project. “Aus-

tin raised nine thousand dollars to construct the memorial; creating the entire structure with the help of his fellow scouts. He is an amazing young man.” The pride and affection in the chief ’s voice was obvious as he told me this story. I asked about the ceremony, which was held on the 10th anniversary of the attacks on the World Trade Center. “It was really one of the highlights of my career,” the chief said, his voice cracking with emotion. “There were between two and three hundred people present with several distinguished speakers, a bagpiper and a helicopter flyover. The horrific attacks on our country on 9/11 are the defining event of our generation, and everyone present at the ceremony that day was in tears. All of us remember exactly where we were when the towers were attacked and subsequently collapsed in flames.” The memorial itself is awe inspiring. A relatively small piece of a metal girder is encased in thick Plexiglas and mounted on a beautiful stand in front of the flags at the Midway Fire Rescue Headquarters. Just looking at this 93 pound piece of metal gives viewers an idea of the strength of an explosion strong enough to twist a girder built to hold up a skyscraper. As we left, Chief Eggiman told me that he had met a few of the firefighters that were on duty that fateful day. “It was an incredibly tough time and is now a part of the culture of the fire service as a whole. So many firefighters went in that day sure they weren’t going home.” People stop by Midway Fire Rescue frequently to pay their respects at the memorial, leaving a flower or saying a prayer or even taking a photo. “It’s a place for the community to remember. We will never forget.”

Midway Fire Rescue Stats Population Served: Permanent – 23,000 Peak – 40,000-60,000

Square Miles: Approximately 80

Emergency Runs: Expected to be 4,000 in 2017 (The first time ever)

Vehicles Engines: 3 Quints: 3 Heavy Rescue: 1 Tanker/Engine: 1 Ambulances: 4 Water Craft: 7 Haz Mat Unit: 1 Medical ATV: 1 Beach Units: 4 Staff Vehicles: 7

Personnel Shift Personnel: 57 Staff Personnel: 7 Volunteers: 15


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CG Garden City Ad_Sasee Mag 08_2017.pdf

1

8/8/17

3:08 PM

SOMETHING EXCITING IS HAPPENING

IN GARDEN CITY!

ATES FOR A R Y L H T N O M W LO STYLE! E IF L T N E M E IR T SUPERIOR RE

Enjoy a Happy Life at Any Age

by Britta Cammarata, MS, MA, NHA-CRCA , Carolina Gardens Assisted Living Administrator Selecting any type of senior residential services can be challenging, even for those with experience within the industry. Selecting the perfect residential care community for your loved one can be just as challenging. Along with quality, daily care, providing opportunities to continue doing things they love and building on what they feel has been an important part of their lives is critical. We never stop growing and wanting to try things we’ve never attempted – even if we feel the activity may be beyond our capabilities.

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There is increasing recognition of the benefits in participating in your community. Being a part of activities that take place in groups gives social interaction and a sense of inclusion, countering a common aspect of older age – loneliness, isolation and depression. It is also important not to underestimate the amount of physical activity that goes along with many activities and the benefits that these may have on motor ability and coordination. Concentrating on tasks that are enjoyable and involve focused mental activity, imagination and memory can have continuing positive benefits for us all. Participation in creative activities can bring a sense of achievement and the possibility of putting our own stamp on things, making our mark and expressing something that is significant and personal. At Carolina Gardens, our residents participate in fun and creative activities such as “Wine and Design,” and “Sit & Sew” classes, as well as creating their own spa line of Southern Comfort Candles and Sugar Scrubs. We take trips to the pier, explore local historical landmarks and culture, and take in local attractions and entertainment – just to name a few. When selecting the perfect residential care community for your loved one, make sure it’s one that fulfills their lifelong learning initiatives – and that it offers opportunities for fun!

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And First Place in the 80 - 84 Female Runner goes to . . . by Carrie Luger Slayback

“70-74 Female, First Place in the 5K goes to Carrie Slayback!” the announcer called out. I hurried up to the stage, snatched my ribbon with quick thanks, and melted back into the crowd. The 74 to 79 places were announced, then I heard, “80-84, Female First Place, goes to… ” Didn’t catch the name, but spotted a petite runner, with strong legs make a dash to grab the ribbon. I felt an immediate connection. Shoving aside my self-consciousness, I ran in front of the stage to catch the 84-year-old’s retreating form. I do not ordinarily grab and hug complete strangers, but I hugged her.

Well aware of what caregiving entails, I said to the daughter, “That award belongs to both of you.”

“Congratulations,” I told her, looking into a youthful face with stylishly side-rimmed red glasses. “I’m right behind ya’.”

Some would stay home, but The Scenic 5K is a local race where I could pal around with four close friends – I couldn’t resist. Getting out proved, again, that activity is the best medicine.

“How old you?” she asked. “73,” I answered. She accepted my hug graciously and said, “I’m thankful for every day I’m out running.” And that is why I had to make contact with her. The next ten years will slide by like a fast mile. She’ll be a 94-yearold runner, and I plan to be in her shoes, accepting my award. Speaking of age 94, a gray haired lady in a wheelchair sat beside my group during the award ceremony. As the oldest participant, she received a crystal vase and an ovation from the crowd. Her daughter, standing by the wheelchair, teared up watching her mom arise from the chair and walk slowly to accept her award, flashing a radiant grin that sparkled more than the crystal.

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“It’s teamwork,” she admitted, reseating her mom. They rolled off. For me, running this race had been questionable. Saturday morning was the first day I awoke without a wracking cough. I’d been down and out for ten days. Whether it’s the virus or inaction, I developed a sore back. The occasional cough hurt.

I routinely run nine-mile workouts so a three-mile 5K is a jaunt. Because the mileage was well within my abilities, I registered. Ambling together to the start under blessedly overcast skies, my friends and I awaited the horn. I looked around for my competition but found nothing but youngsters within sight. “Darn,” I thought, “I don’t want to get a first because I’m the only grandma on the course.” The horn sounded and we were off. My friend Laurie later described the breathlessness accompanying the first running steps. The start is exciting, and we take off, never remembering to start slowly or to breathe for the first quarter mile. So it was the second quarter mile when the rewarding rhythm of the step/breath finally relieved my panicked gasp. Then the voice in my head said, “Focus on the truth: Every step counts.


Keep rhythm. Keep eyes clear of distractions such as other runners, homemade signs, spectators.” When I passed mile one, the timer called out – 9 minutes, 58 seconds. My friends, a decade younger, passed me. “Do not try to overtake them. This is my race, nobody else’s. I’m in charge of hard work and endurance.” My knee hurt. I have confidence that I can run through it. I did, three times in this race. My back hurt, but I am confident that the pain won’t stop me. Then came the fleeting thought that I could go faster without the back and knee pain. I toss it out and keep the rhythm: I pass mile two.

The Collection

Only one mile to go – I pass another runner, an experience I have less now that I’m older. As I’m climbing hills, I say to myself, “This is what I train for; this is why I do Tuesday morning ‘hill-repeats.’” I climb the hill, circle the park and smell the finish – mile three. I sprint the last tenth of a mile to the end and watch the finish line advance to meet my footfalls. I’m deeply happy. I passed another endurance test, triumphed over pain and finished with more energy and bounce than I had to start the morning. My friends and I line up for photos and the generous servings of restaurant food presented to every runner. All other races, even 26.2 mile marathons, provide runners with an orange, half banana, bag of crackers and an energy bar. The Scenic 5K stands out for the platefuls of food from big-name Newport Beach restaurants, tables with table cloths and an awards stage with announcer. Corona del Mar’s Scenic 5K stands out in another way, and perhaps a scolding is the reason. A few years back, I accepted my award, and stood near the stage when a determined gray haired lady accosted a race organizer, “We older runners take racing seriously. We work hard for our times. Why do you stop awards with the 70-74 Age Group?”  And so, today I had the privilege of hugging a kindred spirit, that energetic 84-year-old and congratulating our friend in the wheelchair. This is a community race, but not just the cozy community of Newport Beach runners. People came from Arizona, Alaska, and New York. What the race organizers provided was recognition for runners/walkers who love to be out early Saturday morning, moving alongside ocean views and through quiet neighborhoods – a community of competitors from four to ninety-four.

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–Kid’s Read it!–

Nicole Says…Read these books to your kids! Reviews by Nicole McManus

It is officially back-to-school time. With these creative books, learning can be a lot of fun! One is a cute picture book, and two are fascinating chapter books.

Suppose: A Book about Liking Yourself

by Paul Samuels Illustrated by Linn Trochim What if there was a person who went around hiding your nose, your smile or even your eyes? Would you want them back? Could you learn to like yourself, no matter what you looked like? Could you help others appreciate their unique faces?

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Paul Samuels builds a sing-song poem based on children learning to like the faces God gave them. The delightful illustrations will entertain the younger readers. The primary lesson in this book is one that people of all ages need to remember.

Sharks! Animal Planet Chapter Books #1

by Animal Planet and Lori Stein Animal Planet is debuting chapter books for children that teach facts about different animals. The first book in the series is on sharks. Filled with knowledge on different species, children and adults will be fascinated by this animal. There are also little anecdotes that describe historical events or surprising facts. Did you know the fastest shark record was broken in 2015? The brightly colored pictures bring the unique, rare sharks to life. Sharks! is easy to read and will fuel the thirst for knowledge. This is a great nonfiction read for children who love marine life.

Dinosaurs! Animal Planet Chapter Books #2 by Animal Planet and Lori Stein

The second chapter book by Animal Planet proves this is an exciting and promising nonfiction series for children. Dinosaurs! is incredibly informative and covers history, science and name pronunciation for each of the dinosaurs. The repetitive facts will encourage learning retention in children. The details of other prehistoric creatures will provide a nonfiction book to tie into the popular children movies. This is a must read for dinosaurs fanatics!


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Same Old, Same Old by Erika Hoffman

I must be insane. Albert Einstein, one of the most brilliant humans of all time, stated, “Insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results.” How many times have I nagged my husband about picking up his messes, to no avail? Or complained about folks who disappoint me over and over again doing the same things they always have done and will continue to do? What about the plans I make that never work out because I give up when the going gets rough? Lots of famous people have had a lot to say about starting over. One of the most well- known maxims on this subject was uttered by that oftquoted sage Anonymous, who said, “Today is the first day of the rest of your life.” This obvious observation embodies the tacit understanding that a person can change his ways. One can dramatically shift one’s course. Yet, there’s a caveat Ian K. Smith acknowledged when he said: “People try to change too much at once and it becomes overwhelming, and they end up falling off the program. So gradually changing bad habits makes much more of a difference than trying to change them all at once.”

“Faith is taking the first step even when you don’t see the whole staircase.” Martin Luther King, Jr.

When Dad passed away, I tallied up the amount of my life I’d spent raising my children and caring for him: 31 years. Until his death, I hadn’t been an empty nester. Before those decades, I worked. When confined caring for children, the sick, or the elderly, you ponder the fantastic things you’ll accomplish when you have long expanses of time to do them. While I cared for Dad, I developed my writing habit which sustained me, but suddenly, after his death, I didn’t have another live voice in the house until late in the evening when my weary husband returned from a long day of work. The din of the TV substitutes for human interaction for only a while. I turned next to the computer and found that Facebook and e-mailing are unfulfilling fill-ins for real face time. Social media curbs loneliness; yet still you are alone. What to do? I looked around at my higgledy-piggledy home and felt overwhelmed and depressed. So, I joined a group called Flylady where missives about de-cluttering arrive in my inbox several times a day. The lady who runs the site advocates working at organizing piles for fifteen minutes per diem. She advises putting on shoes and tying them up so one doesn’t schlep around in bathrobe and slippers all day long. I began setting my timer, shining my sink, and tackling my accumulated messes. Surprisingly, taking it one step at a time – works. Then, I remembered a neighborhood Bible Study I had attended a few years back but had given up because of elder care. Two weeks after Dad’s funeral, I made myself attend even though I didn’t feel like it. The ladies welcomed me back. I felt a sense of belonging. I decided I’d continue this once-a-week habit. My son needed someone to keep his dogs for a few months. I worried over my Oriental rugs and hesitated to agree to it. I felt I should resist slipping into that caregiving yoke, again. On the other hand, I knew he needed my help. And, it made me feel useful to do something for an adult son. The dachshunds, as all dogs do, showered me with unconditional love and helped fill this empty nester’s abode and heart. For me, it’s difficult to exercise for the sake of exercising or walk for the sake of losing weight; however, if my little canine pals are leading me by their leashes, I have a purpose and enjoy perambulating.

30

I have neighbors I barely know. Rather than expect them to ask me over or wait for some grand occasion, I invited them for a glass of wine and some cheese. I go by the KISS philosophy: Keep it Simple, Stupid. We don’t dress up; we dress down. The party I nicknamed our “Whine and Cheesy Get –Together.” It caught on. The original five couples take turns randomly hosting it and randomly inviting other folks to join. It’s two


hours on a Friday night: Not every week but when the whim hits! This has provided a means to connect and renew acquaintances after a long void.

My husband and I go on movie dates and dinner dates and dates where we can just concentrate on each other instead of talking about all the romance-robbing discussions that long-married parents launch into.

Old buddies approached me about buying season tickets to musicals that come to Durham every month. Instead of offering an excuse for why I don’t need to do this, I answered, “Why not?”

“You are never too old to set another goal or to dream a new dream,” Charles Darwin said. When I was young, I would not have bought into his statement, but now I understand its truth. I live it. Another quotation that inspires me each day was coined by Martin Luther King, Jr.: “Faith is taking the first step even when you don’t see the whole staircase.”

I volunteered my services to an assisted living center to help elderly folks record their memories and create a memoir for their children and grandchildren. Receptive staff members will set the schedule up; I’ll embark on this endeavor soon. I joined another writing group.

To reboot your life you must take that wee, itsy bitsy step not knowing where it will lead but simply trusting that you are on your way to something better, more rewarding, and meant to be.

I returned to Sunday services after a long absence. Now, I purge my closet of old clothes and never-used belongings and donate them to the PTA Thrift Shop because someone else might need them, and the schools can make a little profit. I’m buying myself a new wardrobe. I’m using my good china and stemware on days that are not holidays.

Erika Hoffman

was a caregiver to her dad for seven years. At times, it was confining and vexing. But now, she has no regrets. She’d do it again for her dad; he was just that nice a person.

31


Choosing Jewelry to Last a Lifetime by Wendy Wowk

D esign s ervices available ! • Fabric Furniture accessories & More Come in & talk to one of our talented interior designers who can help you with all of your decorating needs! Myrtle Beach • 6916 N. Kings Hwy. • 843-449-7673 Pawleys Island (Across From Fresh Market) • 843-979-9970

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As a jewelry designer and shop owner for the past 40 years, I believe that every woman, if they enjoy jewelry, should own one piece that defines her personality – her “statement piece.” A piece of jewelry she can wear every day; a piece that represents her unique style. Think about the first time you were introduced to jewelry. Maybe it was a fun little piece that your Grandma bought for you from the dollar store, or a gold cross you received at your confirmation. It could have been a family heirloom passed down to you, or even a promise ring from your very first boyfriend. Whatever the piece, it will always hold a special place in your heart because jewelry should always make a statement. Your statement piece can be created from various precious metals, non-metals, stone, glass, various bead options, pearls and so much more! When choosing your piece of jewelry, you have the ability to make that unique decision and even meet with a designer and create a piece that was designed especially for you! The first step to finding your perfect piece of jewelry is thinking about where you are going to wear this piece. Is this piece of jewelry to be worn formally or every day? Are you a mom who needs a sturdy piece of jewelry that will hold up to a busy lifestyle or a retired executive that doesn’t really want to fuss anymore, but wants something to wear every day? These are important questions to ask yourself.

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The next step is choosing the materials. Having a good relationship with your jeweler will help you learn a lot about gems and how to care for them so your jewelry stays looking new for a lifetime. The last step is the design. This is where your personality shines through. Anything is possible when it comes to choosing your favorite colors, shapes and style. Your statement piece becomes the most important piece in your collection – and when you wear it you feel confident and beautiful! Contact Wendy by calling Jewelry by Wendy at 910-575-0024 or stop by The Calabash Cottages, 10152 Beach Drive SW, Suite 6, Calabash, North Carolina. Visit Wendy’s website at www.jewelrybywendy.com.


The Joke’s on you by Rose Ann Sinay

Practical jokesters do not run in my family. Once in a blue moon, my serious, almost unapproachable father would suddenly become an excited kid planning an elaborate prank, anticipating a hilarious punch line. Because of his otherwise stern demeanor, my siblings and I were wary. We waited and watched and laughed only when we were sure it was appropriate. Unfortunately, his pranks didn’t usually hit the mark. In fact, there was a time or two when his plans backfired. Then, I couldn’t stop the giggles. As a result of my funny bone confusion, I steered clear of moody, comedic wannabes. My husband (who is fun and witty) is comfortably predictable. When our son came along, red-haired and blue-eyed, we knew we had our hands full. Terry found the typical little boy pranks hysterical: frogs under the pillows, tadpoles in the water glasses, Vaseline on the doorknobs. As he grew older, his pranks became more inventive. After having our kitchen floor re-tiled, he convinced his little sister that the kitchen floor would collapse if she walked in the middle. We wondered why our children walked through the room hugging the walls.

The day of my husband’s 62nd birthday, Fed Ex left a package from our son on the front steps. This birthday box contained an assortment of “interesting” gourmet foods including bottles of dangerous looking hot sauces (we like foods on the high end of the Scoville heat scale), and a box of homemade jalapeno and pistachio fudge that made my eyes water. And, then, there were the thoughtful gifts obviously picked out by his wife. My husband laughed when he opened the enclosed card. It was a hot dog decorated with condiments and birthday sentiments. Inside were five scratch-off lottery tickets. When the kids were younger, gifts always included a homemade card with five instant lottery tickets inside. It became one of their favorite traditions. Now, we were on the receiving end. The tables had turned.

“He’s got quite the sense of humor,” several of his teachers told me. I was afraid to ask what he’d done.

My husband picked up a penny and methodically uncovered every box on four of the tickets. Not one matching number. Not even a tease.

“Oh yes,” I’d say. “He’s the class clown. I don’t know where he gets it.” I really didn’t.

There was one ticket left. My husband and I took turns scratching off the last covered spaces. I scraped the gray film off a box with $50,000 printed inside. Wouldn’t that be nice, I thought.

Terry went on to be the student representative for the board of education and later vice president of his high school class of 500 plus students. In between the jokes and the pranks, he maintained a decent grade average. His last high school achievement was one I had innocently prophesized years ago. He was voted (you guessed it) the royal Court Jester. College, traveling through Europe, and then mar-

34

riage, my little prankster had grown up. He had a job, a wife, and a baby on the way. It had been quite a while since we’d spent any length of time under the same roof. Life was way too quiet and sane in our house. I missed the pratfalls and the salt in the sugar bowl.

My husband unveiled the number in the next square – another $50,000. We needed three. With only one chance left, we scoffed at the thought of the third amount being there. We took a moment to enjoy the fantasy. What we would do with the windfall? A cruise? A new car? No, we’d share it with our kids.


My husband started scratching the last box from right to left. One “0” and then, a second and a third!

“Did you read the back of the ticket,” my son asked?

“Oh, hurry up,” I said, unable to stand the suspense.

“What?” my husband roared.

And, suddenly, there it was . . . the third $50,000.

I picked the ticket up. To be redeemed by The Tooth Fairy was printed in bold black type. We could hear the laughter through the phone.

“No way!” I yelled. We looked at it over and over, again. There was no mistake. “We have to be fair. The kids should share it equally.” We argued for a few minutes – there were so many possibilities. In the end, we decided a nice dinner and a night in a posh hotel was enough for us. We couldn’t wait to give our gift away. Excited, we dialed our son’s cell number. No answer. We tried over and over leaving messages to call as soon as possible. We sat at the table anxiously waiting, marveling over our good luck.

My husband turned the slip of cardboard over.

It was a few days before we could finally laugh about our fake windfall. We had to admit it was one of Terry’s best pranks, yet. “I really like that we gave it all to the kids,” I said as we snuggled on the couch, watching television. That was pretty nice of us. It made me feel good,” I said. “Yeah,” my husband agreed, “it really was a great present. I think we should do something special for his birthday.” There was a Cheshire cat grin on his face. “I have this idea . . .”

Finally, he called back, “You’ll never guess, we practically shouted into the phone. “The lottery tickets you sent Dad – he won $50,000!” There was silence on Terry’s side of the phone. “Really?” he asked. But there was something in the sound of his voice, a hint of laughter. “We’re going to split it between you and your sister,” my husband said. “You can plan a trip,” I said. There were so many things to do with $50,000.

Rose Ann Sinay

is a freelance writer typing away in sunny North Carolina. Her articles/stories have been published in The Carolinas Today, The Oddville Press and The Brunswick Beacon.

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Revisiting the Old Classics, Discovering the New Europe: Part II by Maria Cartwright

Europe has become a rediscovered destination to a new generation of active travelers, still attracting previous visitors while discovering new young talents for a simple yet elegant and, in some ways, a less complicated way of life. Located north of Lisbon is the city of Porto and the Douro Valley. Porto is a fascinating and exciting city that is rapidly becoming one of Western Europe’s most respected tourist destinations. The city boasts an extensive history – from the warren of narrow streets that make up the ancient Ribiera district to the grand plazas of the Avenida dos Aliados and buzzing nightlife of Porto; catering to all ages and preferences. Stay: Porto Palacio Das Cardosas Visit: Douro River Day Cruise San Sebastian is a city made for strolling and is famous for pinchos or tapas – they are exquisite to look at but even more so when you taste them. The local custom is to go from one bar to another, trying the specialties in each establishment. San Sebastian blends sea and mountains, offering travelers stunning landscapes, sports, amazing cuisine and interesting historical monuments. Basque cuisine has been recognized internationally. Stay: Maria Cristina Taste: Rioja wines Explore: Picos de Europa

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Just Me and My – Umbrella-Cycle by Lynn Ingram

It turns out that singing the multi-syllabic “Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious” without missing a beat may not have been Mary Poppins’s most impressive talent. And while analyzing Ms. Poppins’s abilities, not to mention emulating them, has never been at the top of my to-do list (or even on my to-do list, for that matter), I have lately had an opportunity to do a bit of both. Remember that bicycle-riding she did while holding that umbrella? While wearing a dress? Ah, yes. Of course you do. The distance from my home to my office is a mere six blocks. One of the great blessings of my life is that this allows me a peaceful walk through a lovely historic district of elegant old homes surrounded by graceful magnolias and oaks and rainbows of flower beds. This accomplishes

a couple of things: One, it clears my head and reminds me of all the beauty my world contains. Two, I get some much-needed exercise, which I fervently hope will help to remove some of these excess pounds that have attached themselves to my body with absolutely no invitation from me. Clearly, they belong to someone else and were erroneously rerouted to my mid-section, and I am doing my absolute best to give them an unequivocal message of “return to sender.” My exercise program is three-pronged, with the aforementioned walk, or such amblings, constituting Prong One. Prong Two is the swimming I do most days at my local YMCA. This allows me to feel young and lithe and fit, as long as I avoid the mirrors in the bathroom. When I finally got around to getting the tires inflated, I added the third exercise prong: riding my bicycle. Shortly thereafter, I figured out how to navigate my city streets safely enough to ride my bike to my office. And, with uncharacteristic grace, I sorted out how to mount and dismount that bicycle, while wearing a skirt, without exposing anything that should remain unexposed. In addition to providing exercise, riding the bike to the office solves a couple of problems for me: When it’s really hot outside, riding the bike is ever so much cooler than walking, because the movement of riding generates a pleasant breeze. When I’m pressed for time, riding the bike gets me to the office in about half the time it takes to walk. It’s that second condition that was in play on Thursday. Where had the time gone? A mere hour before my first client was scheduled, I was certain that I was going to enjoy a leisurely walk to the office. Clearly, there is a black hole in my house where minutes dive in and disappear, because suddenly, I had only ten minutes before that appointment. Out the door I dashed with my bike, only to discover that it was raining. Oh, well, I thought, I was going to learn how to do this sooner or later, so I popped back inside for my umbrella, mounted the bike, holding my open umbrella in my right hand, and off I went. Not yet being entirely brain-dead, I experienced a tiny bit of trepidation about biking with umbrella in hand. Still, the first couple of blocks of the ride went so smoothly that I detected a smidgen of self-satisfaction at my ability to manage both bike and umbrella. Hey, not every middle-aged woman is out blazing such new trails, right? And then I came to a red light. I had forgotten about brakes. Brakes that typically require both hands. Clearly, I had a problem. Or did I? I didn’t know what would happen if I only used the left-hand brake, because I’d never before needed to find out. So I slowly and carefully squeezed the left brake handle. As I did, I realized that this was going to be a very bad idea, because my bike was going to skid. Okay, I thought, that’s why there are brake handles on both sides, because you need to use them both at the same time. (I may need to revisit the earlier assessment of the level of my brain-deaded-ness.) There was nothing for it but for me to put my right hand on the right brake handle at the same time that I put my left hand on the left brake handle. If you’re visualizing here, you are correct in noting that, yes, that would be the right hand that was holding the umbrella. So when I put my right hand on the right brake handle, the result was that the umbrella handle moved from a vertical position to a horizontal position, placing


the umbrella itself in front of my face. There are two things wrong with this: One, as the umbrella is no longer over my head, I am now getting wet, and two, I can’t see, because the umbrella is blocking my view.

I called out: “How the heck did Mary Poppins do this?” The gales of laughter followed me down the street. Just consider me and my antics a public service, spreading joy and laughter wherever I go.

But I am stopped, all right. I’m just not entirely sure where I am stopped. Fortunately, there’s not a lot of traffic, and I am indeed stopped short of the roadway. I’m also now feeling pretty flustered. I’m wet, I’m running late, I didn’t think ahead about this brake problem, and I have four more blocks to go. Please, God, let there be green lights.

Naturally, at the very last cross-street, a friend of mine was stopped in traffic. When it registered with him that the spectacle before him – sodden woman in dress and pearls on bicycle with dripping umbrella – was indeed me, he made a valiant attempt to stifle both his initial look of incredulity and the guffaws that followed. A failed attempt, but valiant, nevertheless.

Fat chance. At the next red light, I thought maybe I could hold the umbrella handle horizontally with the umbrella itself sort of behind me. It was a clumsy maneuver and it sort of worked, until that lovely breeze I mentioned that is created by the bicycle’s movement inverted the umbrella. This required me to stop altogether, put my feet on the ground, and restore the umbrella to its proper umbrella-like shape. If you’re still getting a visual on this, I probably don’t have to explain that, at this point, having brought the umbrella along was very nearly purposeless, as I got a little soggier each time I had to move it to a horizontal position, not to mention during the un-inverting process. But I had the darn thing with me, so I had no choice but to keep wheeling along, holding the umbrella, praying for green lights. In the last block before my office, there is a multi-story apartment building where the senior citizens are always sitting outside on benches, and we always greet each other. There’s a roof overhead, so sure enough, despite the rain, there they were, a dozen or so of my downtown buddies.

No such restraint occurred on the part of my client when she saw me wheel the bike and umbrella up to the office door. I suspect her laughter was audible a mile away, perhaps joining the chorus from the senior citizens’ apartment building. Well, the upside is that there is more than one way to contribute to the mental wellbeing of my clients. And if it works….

Lynn Ingram

Lynn Ingram's writing has appeared in The Charlotte Observer, Progressive Farmer, Lake Wylie Magazine, and a number of other publications, including Cape Fear Living Magazine, for which she writes a monthly column. She teaches psychology at UNCW and sees clients in her private psychology practice in Wilmington. She has recently resumed acting at TheatreNOW, and she's on the verge of becoming an avid contra dancer. SM

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Heaven Sent Rainbow by Diane DeVaughn Stokes

Ongoing bronchitis led me down the scariest path of my life after finding a 1.2 cm nodule on my lung x-ray. My allergist and internist said it could be scar tissue, and it could be nothing as people can sometimes develop these with age. But both agreed it was better to be safe than sorry, even though the nodule was seen on my previous x-ray eight months before and had not changed in size. Yet, the fact that I kept getting bronchitis that lasted for months at a time, which prednisone would not cure, was concerning and needed further testing. And believe me, as someone who talks for a living this condition was a serious work hazard! Walking into an oncologist’s office was incredibly frightening. I could not believe that my legs were shaking, my palms were sweaty, and my heart was beating a mile a minute. Thank goodness, my wonderful husband was with me. I could not imagine what others who were there, also for the first time, were feeling because I at least had been there many years before to make a TV commercial for them and had even interviewed the oncologist I was seeing. But when you are faced with a cancer scare, it can do a number on even the strongest, bravest, faith-based individual. I was petrified that this was cancer, and that my beautiful life was getting ready to change drastically. Sounds somewhat selfish, and it embarrasses me to say it, but it’s an honest statement. Sadly, the oncologist was not the least bit comforting. He was very direct and to the point. He said, “I am all business when I am concerned with a life threatening issue.” But how about using the line that my other two doctors used? “These things are usually benign, and don’t worry until you have to worry.” And when he said, “Everyone has their time,” I felt like I was dying. He was not one single bit reassuring. My brain said, well it’s nice he is in charge and determined to get to the bottom of the problem, but my heart and hands needed comfort too. When I told him he needed more bedside manners, he said, “Do you want a great doctor or someone who will

42

pat your hand?” I replied, “I want both and deserve both just as every person who comes in here deserves!” Over the next few days, I had CT scans and PET scans from head to thighs to see if cancer was developing anywhere in my body that may be causing the lung nodule. I have always been someone who stayed on top of all mammograms, colonoscopies and annual blood-work, believing that anything caught early could be cured, but what if they found something that was not caught early? The oncologist scared me further by saying there are many cancers like kidney cancer or liver cancer that can develop with no signs until it’s late in the game! So, as you can imagine, I worried myself sick. Well, after many prayers from friends and family, and my own prayers, I was blessed with good news. No cancer. I have a condition known as Bronchiectasis that I will have for life but can be managed with meds. As for the nodule, I must return for a CT scan in six months and then annually to stay on top of it. I have already set that up with a new oncologist, who is great at what he does, and who is reported to offer his patients the greatest in comfort and reassurance along the way. Sometimes, you just have to take charge and do what you know is right for you. In addition to my personal good news, I also had several experiences during this health ordeal when I knew God was with me. It’s amazing when you pray and see your prayers answered in such an extraordinary way. It wasn’t just about getting good news. It was also about finding comfort during the journey in the strangest places at the weirdest times as God gave me signs that He was near. This health scare made me realize it was okay to be frightened and worried even as a strong believer in God. That’s only natural. But it made me wonder how anyone who is going through a health crisis could ever leave God out of the equation when He is such a source of strength when you ask Him to be. The oncologist might not have been a hand-holder, but I knew the ONE that mattered the most was doing just that. I am truly blessed to have received good news after six weeks of worry. Not everyone is so lucky to find a rainbow at the end of their storm.

Diane DeVaughn Stokes

and her husband Chuck own Stages Video Productions in Myrtle Beach. Diane is also the Host and Producer for TV show “Inside Out” as seen on HTC channel 4, and “Diane on Six” on EASY Radio. Her new book Floating On Air- A Broadcasting Love Affair is available on amazon.com.


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Sasee Spotlights Art:

Myrna McMahon and Georgetown Art Gallery by Leslie Moore

Just walking into Georgetown Art Gallery is a treat for the senses – I was surrounded by so many beautiful pieces of art it was hard to know where to look first! The space is divided into 20 booths, each with dividers that give the viewer a chance to experience each artist’s work. This month, the gallery celebrates its 20th anniversary, and I sat down with founding member, Myrna McMahon, to find out what makes this waterfront gallery so special. A lifelong painter, Myrna put her art to the side while she raised her three girls. After the children were older, her family insisted she put her talent front and center once again. “I started taking a watercolor class and that put me back on track,” Myrna remembered. Originally from Connecticut, Myrna and her husband, Al, moved to the area in 1991, and she started taking classes with local artist, Danny McLaughlin. “A group of us started talking about forming an art co-op. We probably talked about it for a year before we actually did it.” Through a lot of hard work, Myrna and her fellow artists did open a co-op in 1997. Their first location was in the bar section of the former Rice Paddy restaurant. “In 2001, we moved to our current location. It really turned out to be a great move for us – we were surprised at the increase in traffic.” I asked Myrna why this gallery is so important to her, and she told me, “It’s so important for local artists to have a place to display and sell their work – and it has to be affordable! Our booth rent is reasonable, and we only take a 20% commission.” Myrna went on to tell me that once an artist is accepted into the gallery, they usually stay, and there is a waiting list for prospective members.

Georgetown Art Gallery Members Susan Tiller President Judy Maring Vice President Sandra Anderson Events chairman Pat Puckett Events Chairman Audrey McLeod Treasurer Paula Robertson Secretary Mimi Beaver

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Johnnie Cowan Darla Brock Susan Duke Terri Eddinger Mark Hilliard Myrna McMahon Drummond Murdoch Sharon Reder Dan Smart Roy and Carol Smith Sharon Sorrels Nancy Van Buren

Passionate about art and this gallery, Myrna believes that a venue of this caliber is not only important to the artists, but the entire community. “An art gallery adds style and sophistication to an area,” said Myrna. “It also gives art lovers a way to take a piece of the area home. So many people come in and purchase a piece of art that reminds them of how much they love coming to this magnificent community.” Myrna recently turned 80 and although she has scaled back the time she spends painting, she will never completely stop. “I’m doing a show on October 5th at the Kaminski House,” she told me excitedly. “They are featuring my paintings of the ladies of Sunset Lodge.” Myrna will be there with Rebecca Godwin, author of Keeper of the House, a novel based on the lives of those who lived and worked at the famous Georgetown brothel. “When I first read Rebecca’s book, I knew I had to paint those ladies,” Myrna reminisced. “I did twelve huge paintings and thought, well, they’ll look great in my garage – because I didn’t think anyone would buy them!” All twelve sold and Myrna received two commissions for more. These are some of Myrna’s favorites in her huge body of work. Myrna is also a two-time Sasee cover artist and her favorite cover hangs proudly in her booth at the gallery. After serving as President of the co-op for years, Myrna has now stepped down, handing the reins to the current president, Susan Tiller. But it is still a very important part of her life. “I’m proud that we lasted this long. There’s something here for everyone – not just one style, but twenty unique and different perspectives. I love this place!” Find Georgetown Art Gallery at 705 Front Street in Historic Georgetown. Hours are Monday – Saturday, 10am-5pm. www.georgetownartgallery-sc.com. The gallery will be having a 20th Anniversary exhibition on October 19th.


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September

2017 Southern Living Showcase Home, Litchfield

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1-10 Plantation, 961 Tucker Road, Pawleys Island, tours $10, 23-24 Fall Festival, 9am-5pm both days, Valor Park, Market Music on Main, Thursdays, concerts 7-9 pm, Main Street,

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Annual 9/11 Benefit, Dead Dog Saloon, Murrells Inlet, doors open at 11 am, All American Buffet $5 all day, live auctions, silent auctions, 50/50 raffle, all proceeds to benefit local police and fire departments. For more info, call 843-651-0664 or visit deaddogsaloon.com

Myrtle Beach Greek Festival, Thurs. 11 am-9 pm,

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29- 2nd Annual Myrtle Beach Jazz Festival, Carver Street, 10/1 Myrtle Beach. For more info, visit myrtlebeachjazzfest.com 30

Seaside Palette & Chalk Walk, Francis Marion Park, Front Street in Historic Georgetown, 9am5:30pm with Wet Paint sale at 3:30 pm, free to public. Live music throughout the day. For more info, call 843-6268911 or visit pawleysmusic.com

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Annual Irish-Italian Festival, 10 am - 4 pm, Main Street, North Myrtle Beach. For more info, call 843-281-3737 or visit nmbevents.com

SOS Fall Migration, various events, Main St., North

Beach. For more info, call 843-281-2662 or visit 15-24 Myrtle shagdance.com

38th Annual Aynor Harvest Ho-Down Festival,

Town Park, parade at 10 am, dance at 6:30 pm. 16 Aynor For more info, call 843-358-1074

Myrtle Beach Veteran’s Stand Down, 8am-2pm, U.S.

22

Army Reserve, 2292 Phillips Blvd. (Market Common), free services for veterans include dental, medical, counseling, haircuts and more. Breakfast and lunch provided. For more info, call 843-427-4588

Atalaya Arts & Crafts Festival, Huntington Beach State

22-24 Park, daily fee is $10, may use to return throughout festival. For more info, call 843-237-4440

2017


Award-winning local chef, Adam Kirby, provides gastronomical delights to diners at both Bistro 217 and Rustic Table in Pawleys Island where he is co-owner with Anne Hardee. Adam’s menus focus on healthy, local food, but for those of us who love to eat, this food is simply delicious.

Chef Secrets to

Fun & Healthy School Lunches

Adam and his wife, Lindsey, have one son, Abel, who just turned three and are expecting another son in February. Every day, Abel leaves for preschool carrying his shark lunch box filled with something delicious and healthy – that he actually eats. “Kids are so picky,” Adam said laughing. “It changes every day. I do try to always include a couple of fruit selections because Abel loves fruit. It has to be easy to eat, like tangerine sections, grapes cut in half or berries cut in smaller pieces.” “Simple sandwiches are always good,” Adam continued. “Abel loves peanut butter and jelly, but I use my mom’s homemade bread and mayhaw jelly – probably the best jelly in the world. I have family in Mississippi and the fruit grows in the swamps there. If I had to describe it, I would say it’s a cross between cherry, raspberry and strawberry.” Adam also rolls out the bread to create pinwheel sandwiches with turkey or ham – spread, of course, with the chef ’s special homemade mayonnaise. Adam and Lindsey like giving Abel cheese for protein. He likes cheese bread or even scrambled eggs served cold at lunch, surprisingly. The Kirbys strategize to get their son to eat healthy food. “We tell Abel if you Abel & Adam eat eggs, your muscles get really big; if you eat broccoli, you can jump really high – and it works!” They also use fun names for foods – any kind of beans are dinosaur eggs and asparagus spears are dinosaur trees. “He has fun making noises and pretending he’s a dinosaur when he eats them.” One thing Abel loves that most parents would never think to try is candied beets. “Our doctor says the nutrition in the beets

outweighs the small amount of sugar used to sweeten them.” For other sweet treats, Abel gets yogurt covered raisins or pretzels, or yogurt with granola on the side. To experience Chef Kirby’s amazing food for adults, visit Bistro 217 or Rustic Table – find both on Facebook or call 843-235-8217. Sasee would love to hear your creative lunchbox ideas. Email lmoore@strandmedia. com – and please send photos!


Advertiser Index

50

All Sufficient Insurance.............................................................................................. 17 Angelo’s Steak & Pasta................................................................................................ 10 The B. Graham Interiors Collection........................................................................... 27 Barbara’s Fine Gifts..................................................................................................... 24 Belk.............................................................................................................................. 5 Bloomingails.............................................................................................................. 13 Brightwater.................................................................................................................. 7 Broadway Grand Prix................................................................................................. 33 Brookgreen Gardens................................................................................................... 11 Butler Lighting........................................................................................................... 25 Callahan’s of Calabash.................................................................................................. 3 Carolina Car Care...................................................................................................... 28 Carolina Gardens - Garden City................................................................................. 22 The Citizens Bank...................................................................................................... 25 Class LLC.................................................................................................................. 28 Coastal Luxe Interiors at Fabric Décor & More.......................................................... 40 Design.by.Nature....................................................................................................... 21 Dickens Christmas Show............................................................................................ 31 Doggies & Divas........................................................................................................ 12 Dr. Grabeman.............................................................................................................. 5 Dr. Sattele’s Rapid Weight Loss & Esthetic Centers....................................................... 37 First Book.................................................................................................................. 21 Fowler Life Coaching................................................................................................. 47 Frame Factory............................................................................................................ 24 Good Deed Goods..................................................................................................... 40 Grady’s Jewelers.......................................................................................................... 24 Grand Strand Plastic Surgery...................................................................................... 13 Home Couture........................................................................................................... 29 Homespun Crafters Mall............................................................................................ 43 Hospice Care of SC.................................................................................................... 13 Island Floors & More................................................................................................. 23 The Lakes at Litchfield............................................................................................... 51

Long Bay Symphony.................................................................................................. 43 Morningside of Georgetown....................................................................................... 21 Myrtle Beach Estates.................................................................................................. 17 Myrtle Beach Jazz Festival.......................................................................................... 25 Nicole’s Consignment................................................................................................ 15 Om Yoga.................................................................................................................... 11 Oreck......................................................................................................................... 32 Owl’s Nest Furniture.................................................................................................. 43 Palmetto Ace.............................................................................................................. 29 The Palmettos Assisted Living & Memory Care.......................................................... 10 Papa John’s Pizza........................................................................................................ 45 Paper Whites.............................................................................................................. 45 Pawleys Island Festival of Music & Art................................................................. 16, 44 Pawleys Island Wine & Food Gala............................................................................. 47 Resourceful Realty...................................................................................................... 45 RK Consignment & Interiors..................................................................................... 45 Rose Arbor Fabrics..................................................................................................... 32 Sago House Furniture................................................................................................. 19 SB Turf & Mulch....................................................................................................... 35 Sea Island Trading Co................................................................................................... 2 Seven Seas Seafood..................................................................................................... 43 Shades and Draperies................................................................................................... 9 A Silver Shack............................................................................................................ 29 Sola Salon Studios...................................................................................................... 44 Strand Security........................................................................................................... 44 Taylors Boutique........................................................................................................ 36 Thrive at Prince Creek................................................................................................ 39 Two Sisters with Southern Charm................................................................................ 5 Vintage Market Days................................................................................................. 52 WEZV....................................................................................................................... 50 Women in Philanthropy............................................................................................. 41


The Perfect Retirement. A world to explore, a vibrant community to come home to. A lifestyle that embraces true independence, new friendships, culinary celebrations and the safety of community. It’s time to enjoy retirement the way it’s meant to be.

120 Lakes at Litchfield Drive Pawleys Island, SC 29585 (843) 353-6040 Lakes-Litchfield.com Pawleys Island’s Premier Life Plan Community


VINTAGE MARKET DAYS® PRESENTS

"Give Thanks"

Vintage • Vintage-Inspired • Architectural Salvage Repurposed finds • Jewelry & Clothing • Live Music • Food Trucks

N ovem ber 3-5, 2017 FRIDAY 10-5

SATURDAY 10-5

SUNDAY 10-4

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Sasee Magazine - September 2017  

"Joy and Mirth"

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