Way Back Wednesday

First, today is the anniversary of myself and Chef Ed's existence. Happy Anniversary, Honey!

He never ceases to amaze me. He bought me the most beautiful pearl and silver starfish necklace. I should have taken a picture but yesterday was kind of hectic. In return, I bought him a swimsuit, a pair of shorts, and 2 shirts. Yes, I do buy most of his clothing because it leaves less margin for error that way. Somehow, I think he got the short end of the stick.

We didn't plan a big celebration but did manage to go out to dinner last night while Sister Sue and Roc were in town visiting. We went to Queen Anne's Revenge and it did not disappoint. We will definitely return there.

Sister Sue will leave to go home on Friday and Chef Ed and I will spend a few days at the beach. I guess that will be our "formal" anniversary celebration. We have some friends that play in a band called Crowfield and they are playing at the Windjammer on Friday night. Ohhhh, the memories the Jammer brings to mind. That takes me to my Way Back Wednesday post.

Do you remember Birdwell's? They were those vinyl swimsuits that the boys used to wear. What a classic! Nothing was better to view than a nice tanned boy holding a surf board with a pair of brightly colored Birdwell's on. Simple, yet so appealing. They should have kept those things around!

Blog Slackers

If you are like the majority of the 6,158,715,207 people in the world, you posses an inherent slacker ability. You are able to do absolutely nothing for hours and hours and extend days into weeks without accomplishing one single thing. You think that lazy is a good word. You think responsibility is a bad word. You are a slacker, and that is okay. I can deal with that for now.

I'm sorry to say that I am high maintenance and I require entertainment and because my social life is so over-developed (ha!) There are a few people that I am gonna "loud out" today.

I need updated stuff, girls! I depend on you and you are letting me down!!!!

Uuhhemm.........

Block Slacker #1
What's On My Brain

Blog Slacker #2
Stethoscopes and Stilettos

Happy Friday! - now, can we talk about ME for a moment?

Lordhavemercy. I never realized just how versatile I really was until this past week. Maybe it's the age thing catching up with me. I dunno. Maybe I am becoming somewhat relaxed as I approach my 40's in the next 2 years (yikes!-you have no idea how much that hurt me to say that.) IMO, I do work both ends of the spectrum pretty well. Chef Ed always says that one of the beauties of having a woman like me is that you can "dress you up for a black tie affair or dress you down with flip flops and a beer." In my mother's words, she calls that "Nice Nasty."

When the Lord gave me 2 daughters, he knew just what he was dealing with. My oldest has never played in the dirt in her entire life and my youngest is a tom boy who plays softball. The Big Man has taught me patience, that's for sure.

As for me, I am a girly-girl. I enjoy being this way. I like the fact that I don't like dirt or going barefoot and I don't see anything wrong with quality products and the willingness to pay for them. Some call it spoiled but I call it class. It's funny how other women who share the same opinions are drawn to each other like magnets. It's that underlying connection that binds us.

Don't get me wrong, I am the poster child for TJ Maxx. I feel like I hit the jackpot at the casino every time I go there. I don't know a woman in this world that does not appreciate a good bargain. In all honesty, I could probably be driving that BMW if I would make less trips there each month. But, it's that retail therapy that keeps me sane.

You understand. Don't you?? (batting my eyelashes)

Don't Sweep It Under The Rug

Words of wisdom:

Deal with any relationship/marital problems that you have constantly. Never let little problems just sit. I recently read a story about “What's that smell?" Have you ever gone into your refrigerator and said “What's that smell?” You could not figure out what was stinking inside? Usually it's some left- overs that you forgot about etc., etc..

It's the same with relationships. You must not push problems to the back. Your problems will not get better! On the contrary, they'll ALWAYS start stinking! (word to the wise) Deal with your issues quickly everyone!

Remember, whatever you leave behind you, you'll always find right in front of you. :-)

Way Back Wednesday (I almost forgot!)

1960's - Ocean Plaza was opened with 1700 feet of boardwalk, pier, amusement rides, shops, roller skating and concessions. This was the Golden Era of Folly Beach. The first surfboard on the Island was introduced by Pat Thomas.

1964 - Palm reading was banned on Folly.

1967 - Horseback riding was banned on the Island.

1977 - The Pier burned again, arson was suspected.

1985 - The beach front Holiday Inn was built.

1989 - Hurricane Hugo hit Folly Beach and neighboring communities, destroying many homes and devastating the beaches.

Be Young, Be Foolish, Be Happy

Boy, those lyrics make me wanna jump out of my chair behind my desk, grab my co-worker and shag the day away...............mmm mmm mmm......those lazy days of summer take me back to a place in time.

Unlike other musical-dependant social developments primarily associated with the sixties, Shag music (often called "beach music") didn't have a scene to spring from, no primary city of development. Of course, the easygoing beach dances that used the name had a point of origin - the beaches of South Carolina, where white kids had broken the color barrier as early as the 1930s by convincing local DJs to add rhythm and blues to their lists. However, there were no bands dedicated to shag music during the movement's zenith in the mid-60s. Shag was one of those rare cultural events that picked its own music after the fact.

That doesn't mean there's no distinct sound or feel to the music. The shag dance is sort of a lazy jitterbug, done on beaches at night, always with someone of the opposite sex. Therefore, the music shaggers picked for their soundtrack had to be sunny, sexy, fun, and lazy. Depending on who you talk to, shagging can be done to songs as diverse as Elvis' "Return To Sender" and Marvin Gaye's "Sexual Healing," but the general consensus is that there should be a slow shuffle at the bottom and some sort of southern soul on top. The big hits of shag are almost all one-hit wonders, cherry-picked for their utility - Willie Tee's "Teasin' You," the O-Kaysions' "Girl Watcher" - but that also gives the scene room to breathe. And, as has been proven by its continuing popularity, room to expand.

We decided to dine at Folly Beach last Saturday night amidst the shag scene. Chef Ed is an Isle of Palms fan but there is something about the feel of Folly Beach that sucks me in. I enjoy the retro atmosphere and in my high school days, I treasured going to the "wash out" to watch the surfers. My, how time flies......(sigh).........

The Sandbar was a simple shanty along the intracoastal waterway with views of the marina. It was originally open in my childhood years and although I was too young to truly enjoy what Folly Beach had to offer back then, I decided to haul the birthday boy along for a simple fried seafood dinner. They have since remodeled and we were pleasantly surprised with our meal and service. Somehow, the location would serve as a bandaid to anything that could possibly go wrong.

I recently purchased a t-shirt that says, "Carolina Girls Wear Flip Flops With Pearls." How true, how true. It's during times like these that I know why I chose to remain rooted in the South.

Cut me and my blood runnuth sand and salt water!

Have a great day and reminisce about the good ole' days. It does a heart good!

"X" Marks The Spot

I wanted to post about some of our weekend happenings yesterday but I didn't want to take away from the birthday post for Chef Ed. So, today, I will spill the beans.

First, let me explain that I AM NOT A TATTOO KIND OF GIRL - one that likes the attention drawn to her while someone admires her ink'd up body. I have seen some really impressive jobs on other folks and I have never really had a longing to inflict pain upon myself. The thought of pain in itself was enough to keep me steered far away from any tattoo parlor.

Over the last year or so, Chef Ed and I talked about him getting something significant to mark his 50th birthday. We did tons of online searching geared toward something that piqued his interest. We finally came to an agreement on what and where we thought it should go.

Moving on to me. As most of you know, my brother suffered 6 longs years of colon cancer before finally losing his life to it last November. During that 6 year time period, he had 4 bouts of recurrences. After the second recurrence, we talked about getting a tattoo of the Greek Evil Eye. Sadly enough, we were never able to make that happen.

The Greek Evil Eye is something of significance to folks of Greek decent and it's meaning comes from old legends stating that it keeps you safe from harm and it wards off evil spirits. I actually have one hanging in my window at my house as do my parents. My brother was strong in our heritage and we actually buried him with a Greek Eye placed in his hand. It was something that meant a lot to him.

I knew that if getting a permanent mark on my body was to ever take place, it would have to be small, unnoticeable by anyone else but me, and something that was sentimental in value. The Greek Eye it was. I spent hours online and could not find anyone that had ever had this done and had it posted on the internet. I finally made an appointment with House of Ink near our home and consulted with the owner. I told him my story and he arranged a meeting with Traci, an artist, to discuss details.

Saturday morning was the day. I made an appointment for Traci to work her magic on myself and Chef Ed. I was VERY nervous and really felt like I stuck out like a sore thumb in that place. They really went out of their way to make me feel comfortable and assured me that everything would be clean and sterile (my OCD was at it's finest).

I will end by saying that the placement of the evil eye was over my heart, covered by my bra strap. It was placed there knowing that my brother, even though unleashed from his earthly bonds and rejoicing in heaven, will always remain in my heart. It serves as a constant reminder that that my 15 minutes of minimal discomfort was really a small sacrifice. I have no regrets.

We thought this may be true so we tipped well!

Chef Ed in the tattoo chair. Cuteasabutton. (I may have been throwing up some where because my nerves were out of control! I'm such a girly girl - waaayyy beyond my control and he let Traci know that while I was out of the room.)

The cross with the crown of thorns surrounding it was a perfect choice for him. It looked so neat and clean as if she took a sharpie marker and drew it on there. Amazing!

And finally, the Greek Evil Eye. Sorry for the graphics. I was kind of bloody for some reason. This picture actually looks much larger than it really is. It's only the size of a quarter.

Please note: I was able to keep my dignity by wearing my pearls that day. I can assure you that I was the only one wearing a pearl necklace and earrings in a tattoo parlor.

Happy 50th Birthday, Chef Ed!

Here's to Chef Ed:

25 Things That I Love About Him

1. He accepts the fact that he's with the most neurotic woman in the world. Plus, he can (almost) always calm me down. That is not an easy feat.

2. He cries at a sad movie and he's not embarrassed.

3. The way he looks at me.

4. Because he has the most beautiful blue eyes.

5. He is never afraid to try new things.

6. He makes me laugh - at least twice a day.

7. He sings off tune.

8. I am never far from his thoughts. I know this because he tells me all the time.

9. He cooks for me.

10.He gives me cards for no reason.

11. He packs my lunch.

12. He's the last one to turn out the light before we go to bed.

13. He has never complained when I asked him to do something.

14. He calls me just to say, "I love you."

15. He always opens the car door for me.

16. He is a hand holder and hug giver.

17. He tolerates my girliness very well. He accepts that a 45 minute drive one way to buy lipstick is a necessity.

18. He's good with finances.

19. He accepts my love of Vera Bradley (and other brands).

20. He wears boxer briefs.

21. He takes care of me when I am sick.

22. He has raised two kittens since birth and has done an exceptionally good job.

23. He doesn't count up past wrongs.

24. He can drink a bottle water in about 3 gulps.

25. He's mine, all mine!

.........and one more for good luck: He's not perfect and he doesn't claim to be. But, neither am I.

On a more serious note, here's my birthday card to Chef Ed.

Dear Chef Ed,

If I had three requests that I could turn into gifts for you, they would include: love, strength and hope. We celebrate a love deepened with maturity; one that is sacrificial, forgiving and eternal. You find strength to endure whatever trials and challenges life has to offer, and to know that in those times, it is God who carries you through them.

So, on this day of celebration, I realize I too am blessed for having been with you for the last three years. Happy Birthday.

Love,

Me

Way Back Wednesday

Leg warmers. Not just for your average ballerina. It was a fad that so many of us adopted. I don't ever remember wearing them solo with a dress but I do recall wearing them over a pair of Guess jeans. Olivia Newton John was the envy of every girl but when we put those leg warmers on, she had nothing on us!

Note: I had a headband like Olivia's to match.

Serenity

I spent some time at the cemetery this afternoon. My brother is in the mausoleum there.

Honestly, I don't go as often as I should. I think it's hard to see that name up there on the plaque. It seems so real and final when I see it.

I was down on my knees pondering over the memories that we shared when I heard a rustling noise toward the back of the building. I wasn't nervous because I feel fairly safe in there. It was a very distinct noise. It took me a few minutes to figure out what was going on and I realized that there was a little bird trapped inside. After about 15 minutes, I managed to prop open the front doors and the little bird was able to fly out. It became a sense of accomplishment to me. For a moment, I was a hero to something so small and innocent.

I think it's a part of God's plan to be put here on earth to take care of each other. All things - big and small. I see myself as a giving individual. Someone who, at times, gives so much of themselves that they lose sight of their own well-being. Too self-sacrificing is a fit description. I don't give to get back. I give to because I feel like it's the "right" thing to do and I feel confident that those gifts do not go unnoticed.

I have learned a lot in the last few months. I have learned that life is short. I have learned that you should never compromise what you believe in in order to please everyone else but your own spirit. I have learned that pain is temporary. I have learned that forgiveness is not for the other person; it's for yourself. I have learned that weeping only lasts for a night but rejoicing comes in the morning. I have learned that it is easier to smile than to frown. And, I have learned that you will never have all of the answers to the things that you question.

So, I will leave you with this. It's one of the strongest prayers that anyone has ever written.

My Cup Runneth Over

(This would have to be some sort of Mocha Latte or Cocoa Caramello because I'm not a coffee-drinker - but you get the picture.)

I'm drowning. Not in the literal sense but in the psychological sense. It seems as if I am overwhelmed with tasks and issues. Please note that they are not self inflicted. I'm just stressed. Sooooo Type A. Here's the list and there is no rhyme or reason to this - it's "stuff" and it's all in the same category - "STUFF":

Chef Ed's 50th birthday

My NEW refrigerator is broken.

On top of that, I have carpet cleaners coming today.

Anna Catherine starts cooking class next week.

My mom is having cataract surgery and can't make up her mind when she wants to have it done.

We have a dinner party on Wednesday. A BIG one at that.

I need a hair cut and can't get in with the infamous Ashley until a week from Wednesday.

Anna Catherine has her 11 year old checkup on Thursday morning.

Anna Catherine's birthday party is next weekend.

I'll stop here and spare you any more misery.

I need a maid. I need a personal trainer. I need a GOOD glass of wine. And it's only Monday.

Have a great week.

Culinary Boot Camp

My mother found out about a Culinary Boot Camp for Kids being held at our local technical college. Over the summer, she has been watching my youngest of 11 years old (10 now but her birthday is in 2 weeks) and she has allowed her to experiment in the kitchen. Since this has taken place, I no longer can cook anything that tastes as good as "MeMe's" does. To think that all these years, I have been cooking everything from grilled cheese to scrambled eggs incorrectly. I was all in favor of this since my mother informed her that SPAM was a substitute for bacon! WTH?

The summer course is held for one week - Monday thru Friday - for 3 1/2 hours a day. It is intended to sharpen kids culinary skills. Children will learn from a real Chef how to make everything from scratch. (Poor Chef Ed - I think he's feeling insulted about now.) They offer several course with catchy names such as: Chillin' and Grillin', Cookies Round-The World, etc... The cost of this camp was $149 but we felt like it was worth it to keep kids busy plus is just a fun activity.

Maybe she can give Chef Ed a few pointers when she done. We'll see.......

Litterers Have Done It This Time!

Brian Hicks is a writer for our local newspaper here in Charleston. Although I am not fond of him, I did respect his comments recently written regarding our 4th of July Celebration on Folly Beach. This hits really close to home for me because I spent quite a bit of time at Folly during my childhood years. A true lover of the ocean, some would think. I was raised at the beach, and if you cut me, I would probably bleed sand.

This time, the public has gone too far! Brian could not have said it better:

We've got a trash problem on Folly Beach. Not the beer cans and chicken boxes and coolers left lying in the sand over the weekend - no, the real trash is the people who carried in all that crap and left it lying there. ON OUR BEACH!

This is not MTV Spring Break. It's not cute, it's not funny and you're not cool.

This is the work of careless people who think it is the world's job to pick up after them, whose parents apparently didn't raise them right.

How hard is it to throw your empties in a cooler like normal folk?

Some people want to blame this on tourists, vacationers or even Yankees. But that's a poor excuse. This was largely locals, fools who take the Lowcountry for granted.

Maybe they've never lived anywhere else, don't realize the unique beauty that is coastal South Carolina - or how fragile it is. Maybe they don't care much about anything else but themselves - a common malady these days. Or maybe they are just lazy.

Well, they've done it this time. Folly Beach is talking about banning alcohol on the beach, the last place around here that you can legally drink in the surf. As usual, a few idiots spoil a good time for everybody. Way to go.

Messin' with our therapy

You go out at the end of a hard day, sit in the sand, drink a beer and watch the waves roll in. It is one of the greatest perks of living here. And soon this Anheuser-Busch therapy might be illegal. You can't blame Folly Beach officials. They filled up two garbage trucks Sunday and still didn't get it all. They've got residents upset about people dumping trash in their yards, using their hedges for outhouses. Living at the beach does not require you to put up with this. You wouldn't like it if Folly folks drove to your subdivision and dumped their trash in your yard. In fact, you'd call the cops!

If you don't want the government acting like your parents, try acting like an adult. Pick up after yourself.

Way Back Wednesday

It's been over 10 years since he's accomplished anything except negative publicity.

Need I say more?

This Just Caught My Eye

I was browsing through the internet this morning when I came across a banner at the top of the web page that I was on. It was Mystic Monk Coffee. What caught my eye was the fact that it stated "Roasted by Real Monks." ---versus fake Monks??

I don't even drink coffee but Chef Ed is the coffee connoisseur. Something about this creeps me out. Not sure why. It just does.

Way Back Wednesday

Those of you that are still using the 1980's banana clip. PLEASE, fortheloveofgod, bury them in your back yard. These are waaaay too Madonna-ish!