GET ZAPPONIZED!
This is THE site for shoe aficionados and anyone who needs INSTANT gratification from retail therapy. The zappo sisters will entertain you with how they were "zapponized" ; how the 10 rules of zapponization have altered their ideas of retail therapy and their many adventures. For a starter course, go to zappos.com and indulge your online shopping urges.
zappos core values
10. be humble
9. be passionate and determined
8. do MORE with LESS
7. build a positive team and family spirit
6. build open and honest relationships with communication
5. pursue growth and learning
4. be adventurous, creative and open-minded
3. create FUN and a little Weirdness
2. embrace and drive change
1. deliver WOW through service
pictures
...just a note... If you click on the pictures, you can see them full size.
Snow is an awesome event in my area. We are in the mountains of Western North Carolina but almost in the upstate of South Carolina which puts us in a kind of thermal belt. Good for growing vineyards, riding horses and playing golf year 'round, and reasonably moderate temperatures. If the forecast remotely hints that snow could visit our town, the local supermarkets are immediately bombarded and stripped of anything that could be a nosh while watching the snow fall. Why people think they have to buy milk, bread and other supplies amazes me. Most of us have enough in the pantry to last a month and feed a good part of the neighborhood, too. Anyway, that is tradition and one I have known since childhood.
Snow was predicted for Friday morning, December 18. Not just snow but A LOT of SNOW, SLEET and more SNOW. Wow! This was going to be one birthday (December 19) that I would enjoy. "The Husband" and I live on a curvy, steep road but had no plans to venture out. He came home from work at 10:00 AM on Friday just before the skies let loose with a storm that would not abate until late that night. He had filled his truck bed with cement blocks and if not for those, the curve and our driveway would have been impossible.
Flakes like huge feathers and then a rain of pure ice and more snow was the pattern for most of the day. The snow fell so fast and furiously that we accumulated over an inch an hour at one point. News reports were stating accidents, over 500 since noon and pleading with folks to stay home. All the Interstates and main roads were impassable for miles and finally closed. Traffic was totally stopped and drivers had no recourse but to wait and hope the gas held out. This happens out West and up North, where people are prepared and know how to drive under adverse conditions. Doing the grocery run is about the extent of Southern snow knowledge.
The day was delightfully gloomy, perfect for lighting the gas logs, holiday music, books, movies and lots of hot tea. (Well, wine later in the day, too.) Below is Friday. We were so lucky to have power, water and phone all day. In the surrounding area, over 75,000 would not be so fortunate, some waiting until Monday for heat. The snow was nine inches by Friday night and the temperature was in the twenties. Not the norm, to be sure. The tiny prints on the porch were Lucy and Abbi "sledding" on the snow that had blown in through the screens. While taking the last pictures of the day, I managed to capture snowflakes in action.
For those of you who doubted the story of my first pearls, this is the photograph. Please note that not only am I wearing a pearl necklace but also a matching bracelet. Mother is wearing her pearls. Don't you think this is an adorable picture of Sister?
Pearls are an interesting gem because they come from living creatures. Most people are familiar with pearls found in oysters. Oysters produce only one pearl per shell and these oysters are harvested by divers. Oysters are bred for this purpose, which can take almost three years and then implanted with a seed that takes up to three years or more to produce. Pearls from oysters go through a grading/sorting/ cleaning/polishing process before being placed on the market.
China first discovered pearls in 2200 B.C. and began the culturing of pearls in 1082 A.D. China is the leading producer of pearls in the world. This is due to many natural conditions that cause pearls to thrive. The abundance of water, the water temperature and lack of water pollution add much to breeding conditions. In fact, many people actually raise and harvest pearls in their own backyards. This type of backyard production uses “clusters” which can hold up to eleven pearls rather than the single oyster. Knowing that it takes seven years to achieve a harvest, rather equates this to growing and selling “Christmas” trees in our part of the world. For a lot more information about pearls, please visit the site below.
One of my friends lives in Shanghai, China eight months of the year. On her winter visit, Dee brought cases of pearls to sell at an incredible discount. If you are not familiar with pearls and think pearls are for older ladies like Barbara Bush, get ready to have a wake-up call. My motto is that you can never have too many pearls, diamonds or SHOES! (think Zappos.com) Unlike diamonds, pearls are warm. They feel soothing against your skin with a glow that no other gem can offer.
My first strand of pearls was a necklace when I was four years old. I am wearing my pearls, a sassy little dress and patent leather shoes while admiring Sister, six months old, in the photo. Mother upgraded me to a stunning necklace when I graduated from high school. This necklace was combined with one of Mother’s to make a double strand and given a sapphire clasp about four years ago.
I have always thought that those long strands worn by ladies in the movies of the 30’s & 40’s were ever so sexy. Being short, I never thought I could “do” this look but after trying a lovely, 54 inch strand at Dee’s pearl show, it was too intriguing to pass up. The long strands came in several shades but white was my first choice. First item in the cart.
Next, I saw these round, flat pearls, almost like a puddle. It just so happened that I was wearing earrings like this necklace. My earrings could be called “blush” in color and had been found at the Biltmore Village Arts’ event years ago. Dee was so surprised that the necklace exactly matched my earrings and told me that this puddle look was really called “coin” pearls. Second item in the cart.
Then I spied the strangest looking lumpy beads ranging in color from white to deep bronze. The common name for these beads is “potato pearls”. The actual name is baroque pearls. These lumpy, bumpy pearls were fascinating, so I put them around my neck. In seconds, they acclimated to my skin warming my neck and radiating heat. Normally, I would not look at big stones for my small neck but these looked terrific. Third item in the cart!
Dee must have known that her friends would want more than just pearls from the Orient so she brought exquisite pashminas. It isn’t like I don’t have a drawer full of pashminas but I wear them year ‘round. So, fourth item in the cart! Coin pearls are on the pashmina.
Hmmm. At this point, it was time to start calculating my expenses. Oh, no doubt I could have found a lot more treasures but you have to control yourself. Right?? Hopefully, you have enjoyed the photos, information and the general chatter about Dee’s pearls. Please visit her website and use my code (for a discount!) to order these beauties. Dee will only be in the States until the end of December but her site is always opened for business.
The holiday season affects the level of customer service in a way that usually drops it to a new low. Surly salespeople make the season of “happiness” just a general downer for most of us. Standing in lines in an attempt to support the local businesses is time consuming but worthwhile for the community. It offers a rare opportunity to understand why the sales associate may be less than sociable or helpful. Listening to customers snarl as they can’t wait their turns or scream at their exhausted children or berate the salesperson for some infraction, makes me furious. Come on, people, behave like adults! The person at the cash register is doing the best he can and is probably wiped out from working at least one other job and often two. Be glad you have some money to spend. Gosh, I wish Bernie Mac were still alive. He could always tell America how to behave!
Before the Thanksgiving holiday, I placed an online order. Online customer service can go bad, too, but I much prefer to shop online. I had researched and searched for many, many days for a new saddle. I wanted a reasonable price and not some “discount” that was not worth the effort and would cost as much to ship as to purchase.
This is a big deal, as you horse readers know. First of all, I was changing to an English saddle after fifteen years in a Western saddle. Even though I had a wonderful synthetic Western saddle, it was still heavy. You may have noticed that “the HONEY horse” is tall, about 15.2 hands. Swinging that Western saddle up and over her back was starting to get old. How did I know I was going to like English? The barn has a variety of English saddles for many disciplines and was kind enough to allow me many “test” rides in an All Purpose. Like the name suggests, this saddle can be used for general riding, dressage, eventing or jumping. Honey and I just do general riding, nothing fancy. After a few rides in an AP, I realized that I felt more balanced and that Honey was more relaxed. Not only, was it light; it was so easy to use. Yes, Honey still snaps her lips when you tighten the girth but that is her sassy way of saying she is SO not interested in working. Horses are very spoiled at the barn and tend to believe that being pampered is all they should expect each day.
Now that I have decided that an AP saddle will work for me, which brand will it be? I knew I wanted another synthetic saddle and I really wanted a Wintec. The Wintec brand is known for quality and endurance and I’m hoping to get ten years out of it. (Ok, you youngsters at my barn stop smirking. I will still be riding in ten years!) I wanted a 250 AP brown saddle, basic level with no frills. So let the searching begin!
After reading more about the 250 AP and discovering that the 500 AP was being discontinued, I was ready to upgrade. Back to the search engine. It was interesting that lots of tackshops and catalogs were selling the 500 with prices ranging from $300 to $660 before shipping and taxes. This was just for the saddle. As English riders know, unless you get lucky and find a “package” deal, you buy the girth, leathers ( holds your stirrups on the saddle), irons (stirrups) and any other item separately. Step back and think for a minute. How much was I willing to spend for this mid-life crisis? That’s when I went bargain hunting. No, not a used saddle, just the right price on a new one. It was out there and I was determined to find it.
Days into this quest, after tabbing and marking so many horse sites I could not remember why I had saved them in the first place, I found a tackshop in Colorado…Fourwinds. (www.fourwinds.net) They had the 500 saddle in my size, in brown and less than any other advertised price. Did I mention that your saddle has to fit your bottom and your horse’s withers (shoulders)? Too tight on the withers and the horse is uncomfortable. Too small in the seat and it feels like you are in a child’s saddle. Not only that but they were offering an excellent price on a package with girth, leathers and irons. YES!
Let the good times roll! I sent an e-mail stating what I wanted and this is where the customer service began. John Throckmorton e-mailed me immediately to say that brown had sold out. Of course, I could not believe it so I called him. In the nicest way, he explained that the site had not updated when the browns were sold. Would I consider black? Well…that wasn’t what I wanted but sometimes things don’t always work the way you force them to. I wanted a spotted horse, black & white like Little Joe rode on Bonanza, but I chose the most beautiful Palomino Foxtrotter instead, the HONEY horse. Black looks good on blondes.
Yes, I agreed to black and added a black bridle for a few extra dollars. Three days later, John called me. Not an e-mail, a call. Thank goodness I happened to check voice mail while we were on our beach trip. The bad news was the 500 AP had sold out. The good news was that for $60, I could upgrade to a 500 AP Cair. Jack apologized for all this inconvenience while assuring me that the box would arrive on November 30. Deal of the year! Cair is cushioning system that makes your saddle feel like an upholstered sofa. All right, I am over my budget but this is the saddle I really want. So, YES!
Then Sister called to tell me that she and her husband would like to give me half on my saddle for my birthday!!! Wishes do indeed come true. Wow! Can I patiently wait for delivery? The husband knows that patience is not in my vocabulary even though I have gotten better since K’s cancer this summer.
November 30 arrived and ended with no saddle. Holiday deliveries can be a pain, just relax. December 1, no saddle. What am I thinking? I have been scammed just like Sister!!! Of course there is a big difference in price. Sister found the vintage car of her dreams on E-bay in late May. With online negotiations, phone calls and discussions involving not only the car, its condition, its location, transfer of funds and legal issues, Sister still lost $10,000 to an overseas scammer working with a middle man, Fred Colwell, in California. Since a bank wired the funds, this became a federal issue. E-bay refused to acknowledge any part in the scam until the Feds became involved and even then offered no assistance or remuneration to Sister. Bottom line: no car, donation of $10,000 to some jerk overseas! Man, can I digress.
On December 2, I called John inquiring into the delivery status of my saddle. John, you are so patient and polite. If I didn’t know you were from the wild, wild West, land of my Daddy’s youth, I would swear you were a Southern gentleman. Customer service…is John Throckmorton. After John checked the tracking record, he discovered FedEx had somehow misplaced the shipment but WOULD deliver on Thursday, December 3. And you know what, that is exactly what happened! After a quick call to John notifying him that I have received the shipment and that he will see pictures of the saddle on my horse, I ripped into the box!
Is it what I ordered? Yes! Lovely, brand, spanking new! Can’t wait to get to the barn the next day and do the first ride. Hey, girls love horses and all things horsey. The Wintec was almost better than a shipment of shoes from Zappos. Did the HONEY horse like her holiday present? I think so. She certainly looked mighty pretty. Photos of her new Wintec will be on blog soon.
Thank you, John for excellent customer service. Should any of you readers want order tack, please look at this site:www.fourwinds.net
Credits for photos from the Library of Congress:
Item Title:Saddling HorseAuthor/CreatorJones, Suzi, photographer.Created/Published1978-07NotesPeople in photograph: Wheelock, ChuckDigital IDafc96ran 43626http://hdl.loc.gov/loc.afc/afc96ran.43626 Joy Morton riding a small horse attheOnwentsiaHorseShow ChicagoDailNews,Inc.,CREATED/PUBLISHED1905.SUMMARYImage of Joy Morton, a boy, riding a small horse at the Onwentsia HorseShow in Lake Forest, Illinois.NOTESThis photonegative taken by a Chicago Daily News photographer may have been published in the newspaper. Cite as: DN-0002816, Chicago Daily News negatives collection, Chicago History Museum. REPOSITORYChicago History Museum, 1601 North Clark Street, Chicago, IL 60614-6038.
(the Honey horse dressed in English for a photo shoot and dressed in Western for a parade shoot…ridden by professionals)
Honey's new saddle. Notice the pink reins...what else would a blonde wear?
I was so excited to leave for the beach that it was no effort to get out of bed and on the road by 9:00AM. Those of you who know me can laugh since I usually get out of bed no earlier than 8:30A.M. The day was crisp and sunny. The cats were surly and aware that we were leaving them home alone. If they follow true to form, they will save food for fear that no more will be forthcoming. Little do they know that the neighbor will be there every day.
Traffic was light and we sailed into Shelby too early for lunch at Bridges’ BBQ. No problem, on to Gastonia and RO’s. This is an institution in Gastonia since 1946. The building has been updated but the menu and the music hasn’t changed. If you have not been to RO’s, there are no signs and the location is in a rather questionable section of town so ask a local. The menu features breakfast items, burgers, dogs, livermush and barbeque. Livermush is a Southern delicacy that has not and will not touch my tongue. Yes, the husband likes the stuff and declares that I should at least taste one bite. Don’t think so. Anyway, the thing about RO’s is the sauce, applied to all sandwiches. It is a mixture, not unlike Thousand Island dressing, with A LOT of black crushed peppers; the details are a family secret. The buns are pressed and just soft enough to melt in your mouth. It is always a disappointment to realize that I have eaten my sliced pork sandwich in record time instead of slowly enjoying it. www.rosbbq.com
Highway 74 E is our next adventure and we will follow this for a few hours until connecting with Hwy. 211. 74 is a wonderful stretch of four lane with a reasonable speed limit and miles of undeveloped land. This highway will become I-74 at some point and then all that nothingness will change. Southport is the end of the line for hwy 211, literally. You can only drive into the Cape Fear River if you don stop. Our inn, Lois Jane’s Riverview, is across the street from the river where you can watch the Fort Fisher Ferry sail on its journey to and from the fort.
We arrived in Southport around 4:30 and thought the main street had some cute shops, which we might explore on Sunday. Little did we know that Southport is steeped in some serious Southern tradition regarding shopping on Sunday and after 5:00P.M. any other day. Even many of the restaurants are closed on Sunday. Spending opportunity missed!
Lois Jane’s is a historic home on E. Bay Street and is still owned by the Herring family. The innkeeper was a charming lady who lived on Oak Island (15 minutes away) and worked 12-7 shift with every other week off. Joanie, a Southerner from the Charlotte area, had moved to Southport seven years ago and could not bring herself to leave.
Her two dogs, Lenny & Ollie, would not have approved a move from their coastal haunts. Joanie wins our Zappo customer service star for going above and beyond the required duty. Not only did she answer all my questions on the phone without the slightest irritation but she was even more delightful in person. Joanie took time to “visit” with us and tell us the stories of the Herring family house and other tidbits about Southport. It was obvious that she not only enjoyed her job but that she loved her new hometown. The job of an innkeeper requires explicit diplomacy, discretion and a calm disposition; qualities that Joanie possessed. In addition, she was an excellent cook as evidenced by our bountiful Sunday breakfast replete with homemade biscuits, sausage gravy, grits, sausage, bacon, fruit salad, panned apples, egg casserole, juice, coffee and tea. We call that a true Sunday Southern breakfast. The table was set with lovely china, linen and crystal. Any questions about the foods, just e-mail me. Below is a watercolor of the house, a photo of Lois Jane and a photo of her children, Meezie and Davey, who live in Southport. Davey is better known as Captain Dave.
Staying at a bed and breakfast inn is always an interesting experience. Sometimes, you are mislead by advertising and discover too late that rooms are not at all like the pictures online or in the magazine or the house may be in a terrible area but photographed from its best side. The menu may have stated full breakfast but in reality is juice, coffee and doughnuts as in Ogquit, Maine. Some are haunted and the owners refuse to inform you of this, which happened in Beaufort, South Carolina. But nothing can prepare you for the guests who will be sharing the inn. How innkeepers manage to maintain their wits when encountering a myriad of guests on a daily basis is beyond me. I am not that nice. As former students often said, I would not qualify for a greeter at Wal-Mart!
There were two other couples staying at Lois Jane’s, from Ohio and Atlantic Beach, N.C. The ones from Ohio had arrived by boat; were in transit to Florida and that is all we know because the beach couple never allowed anyone else to talk. They started talking as they entered the dining room interrupting the four of us. He bragged incessantly about his riches or religion while she chirped on and on about religion or her job. At one point, she invoked a comment about “the Lord’s return” and I really hoped it would occur at that instant, if for no other reason than to stun her into silence. It was obvious that the lady was at least ten years older than her husband and he was “too devoted” to her every demand. Dr. George Glosson is an optometrist who was making a movie about himself. “The World According to Dr. George Glosson” will premiere in two years and should contain some X-rated scenes (his words) about his “incredible” life, which has been filled with “barns full of blessings”. All this from a man who devoured his breakfast; consumed three beers for a breakfast chaser and drove a Buick Park Avenue. I think what really ticked me off, in addition to his incessantly loud chatter, was the fact that he thought I was sixty years old! (Never a wise idea to guess a lady’s age, much less to guess older.) Really wish I had taken a picture of George.
Leaving Southport, we headed east on Hwy. 17 to Myrtle Beach. Of course, as the driver, I had to detour through Calabash, N.C., for old times’ sake. Calabash was just a street with about ten restaurants that served seafood “calabash style”, which means in abundance and fried. Sister and I found Calabash in the late ‘60’s on one of our family beach trips and could not get enough of those yummy, fried shrimp, scallops, oysters, fish, hushpuppies and slaw. We had three favorite places: Thomas’ (no longer), Beck’s (still looks like it did forty years ago) http://www.becksrestaurant.com/and Capt. Nance’s (right on the water and on a dirt road). Calabash was unrecognizable with shops, restaurants, homes and generally overbuilt. What had happened to that quiet little spot catering to seafood lovers? There was even a four star restaurant…pleeze in Calabash??? The northern end of Myrtle Beach was about forty-five minutes away and the afternoon was gloomy with rain pending as we left Calabash. Beach at Fort Caswell earlier in the day:
When you tell people that you are going to Myrtle Beach, most assume you are staying on the main drag, Ocean Blvd., right in the heart of Myrtle Beach. We were staying in the northern end before you get to North Myrtle Beach (another town entirely). The Island Vista Resort is located directly on the beach in a residential area. It is the only hotel on the beach for some distance, which adds privacy to the package. Years ago, Island Vista was a family managed hotel named The Sea Island Inn, which catered to golfers, long-term visitors and visitors who wanted the beach without the distractions and noise. The employees give new meaning to outstanding customer service and pleasant attitudes. Three days before our arrival, we received an e-mail counting down the days with a nice note of welcome. Registration was so efficient with the ladies greeting us; inquiring about our drive down; changing our dinner reservations without comment and asking just what they could do to make our stay more comfortable. Wow!
Island Vista continues the tradition of an excellent restaurant, beautiful rooms and even more beautiful oceanfront views. All the rooms have an oceanfront view and balcony. There are thirteen floors now instead of just five, okay, twelve floors with a penthouse for those of you who are a tad superstitious. Most of the rooms are owner/condos and vary in floor plans. Our room was a small one bedroom with a lovely balcony and a huge television. Usually, we are more into our books than television but this one had TCM (Turner Classic Movies). Can you say, “addiction”? I was smitten and am trying to convince the husband that we need to add this to our package at home. Internet was free and “Barbie” was in her element. “Barbie” has become a trip essential and was handy for finding directions, locating special shops in the area and reading the all-important e-mails.
Since the rains had begun, we decided to dine in the restaurant and dress for the occasion. The reason our reservation was so easy to change was that we were the only people dining in this lovely room. Hmmm. It was a Sunday night and there were few guests at the hotel but to have the entire dining room was rather romantic. That has only happened one other time and was with the husband when we were dating and had reservations at a “castle”. That is another story. Our waiter had worked for the old hotel and stayed with the new owner. Service was perfect and the food was exquisite. I hate to admit that we had beef at the beach but the filets did not need a knife and our wine was excellent. Oh, did I mention that the hotel had given us a $20 credit to use in the restaurant?
The weather was rather gloomy and wet for our three days. That was perfect for the surfers, whom we watched from the balcony. The last day was cold and foggy but as you can see from the photo, a father and toddler were brave or insane. The two were wearing bathing suits (I had on layers) and actually venturing into the ocean. That water could not have been warmer than 50 degrees and the air temperature was 47 degrees. No self-respecting Southerner jumps into the ocean before June. Jeez, even the birds were closer to the hotel than the water.
Tuesday, we went to Murrells Inlet for dinner. We spent the day cruising all the way to Pawley’s Island. Pawley’s Island is the home of the famous hammock and the “Boca” of the beach area. Some of you thought Charleston was the “Boca” but you have to be born into a family who can trace roots back to the 1600’s to matter in Charleston. Murrells Inlet is a fishing community in a saltwater marsh with an emphasis on oysters. Used to be a saying that you could only eat oysters in months with an “r”. At the beach, oysters are served when in season and those months do have “r’s”. The local oysters come in clusters and not the pretty little shells served most other places. Our favorite place is Nance’s and you need to dress in jeans and a t-shirt. They serve local oysters in season, Gulf oysters in the summer months and are famous for their oyster roasts. An oyster roast is a huge cast iron pan (think turkey roaster pan) filled with steamed oysters. Your table has a hole in the middle with a garbage can under the hole. You are given a cafeteria tray, plastic bowl, saltine crackers, fork, shuck knife, roll of paper towels and a variety of sauces.
It is advisable to order a large pitcher of beer because you may want two orders of oysters. These clusters could have two to four oysters attached and it is your job to open each lip/shell on the cluster with the shuck knife. Part of the experience is opening the shells with the knife and discovering the sweetest morsel on earth. To describe the taste would be a combination of salt and sweet. The salt is refreshing, not overbearing, and the sweet is a little tickle. There is no other oyster like this coastal treat from the marshes of South Carolina. If you are finicky, the staff will have someone shuck for you but that seems to ruin the fun. This time, I wanted to try steamed clams after our pan of oysters. Clams save you a lot of work because they are like mussels and pop open when steamed properly. They are delicious but my favorite is the oysters.
Did we shop? We tried but just didn’t find much we could not live without. Total expenditures on “stuff” was $75. Hard to believe that Sissy could not find things to buy even at the outlet malls but too true. The shops were already doing discounts in preparation for Black Friday. Guess I was waiting to get home and order something good from Zappos!
Driving home on a holiday is a pleasant experience in some ways. We left early on Thanksgiving day after breakfast at Stacks. It was a good idea to eat because we did not find a place to eat after leaving the beach. All the fast food places were closed in both North and South Carolina and I mean, ALL. Of course, I started craving an iced tea from McDonald’s and maybe some fries. NOT! The traffic was basically non-existent; the fog lifted about two hours from home and the rest of the day was lovely. The car was humming along and little did we know until the next day that our radiator was leaking, the clutch fan had broken and oil was spraying. But that is another short story.
Have to mention a cat tale before ending. Our neighbor had taken care of the “girls”. She is fascinated with our cats and is always hoping to pet Abbi, the aloof one. Lucy has no qualms about being petted. On the night before we came home, the door into the garage did not completely close. Remember that disco song, “there’s a party goin’ on”? Well, these two cats must have partied all night in the forbidden garage. Since they could not get outside, they made the best of this adventure complete with sliding down the windshield and hood of the husband’s truck. Paw prints littered his truck both tiny and large. We were shocked to see the door opened and rushed inside to check on the girls. Imagine our surprise to see them yawning and trying to wake up. Repentant? Not quite. When fully awake, they both went to the “door to adventure” and meowed pitifully as if willing it to open again!
The husband, "Barbie" and I are going to the beach on November 21!!
Our first stop will be lunch in Shelby or Gastonia for some real barbeque. That would be 'que without tomato sauce and prepared Eastern North Carolina style. For those of you who don't understand the conflict of Eastern vs Western North Carolina BBQ, let me help you. It is all a matter of taste, sauces and slow cookin'. Even though the husband and I grew up in the mountains, we want that good ol' Eastern 'que. Contests are held yearly to find the most perfect 'que in the state. Magazines, like Our State, http://www.ourstate.com can't publish enough articles on "where to find the best". Even books, one of the latest tomes, THE BEST TARHEEL BARBEQUE, cannot pinpoint but can only suggest. Wedding receptions are frequently held at local barbeque eateries. One of Clyde Edgerton's most hiliarious books, RANEY, staged the rehearsal dinner with barbeque, checkered tablecloths and hay bales.But it is more what happened than what is served in this Eastern North Carolina town. www.clydeedgerton.com
Okay, got a little off course. We will let you know all the places we eat and rate them on the zappo scale of service.
Our first night will be in the quaint town of Southport, North Carolina and we are staying at one of the bed and breakfast inns. http://www.loisjanes.com Southport is a very old community and mostly revolves around fishing. If you check the link, you can discover a lot more about Southport and the role Fort Fisher played in the War of Northern Aggression.
The remainder of our vacation will be spent in North Myrtle Beach, South Carolina. This hotel with all oceanfront rooms is located in a quiet residential area of North Myrtle. Sister and I found it years ago when the name was Sea Island Inn. The privacy and the sounds of the ocean keep bringing us back. There are no rides, shops, theaters or even other hotels for some distance. The hotel has an excellent restaurant and does not permit sloppy beach attire or jeans for dinner dining. One night we will be dressing for dinner, just like a date! http://www.islandvista.com
An afternoon will be spent in Murrells Inlet, about an hour from our hotel, where we are dining on oyster roasts at Nance's. www.nancescreekfrontrestaurant.com Proper attire here would be jeans and a large bib. The husband introduced me to this delicacy many years ago. Murrells Inlet is an interesting area and a salt marsh nature preserve. www.murrellsinletsc.com/history.html
It sounds like all we are going to do on this vacation is eat. And there is a problem with that??? We will keep you updated. Island Vista has a beachcam so you can see the ocean and the daily weather. More as it happens...
Below is a photo of our parents taken in 1942, soon after their wedding. As you can see, Daddy was in the Army and Mother was beautiful. From the ribbons, stripes and medals, Daddy was a Master Gunnery Sergeant, no small feat for that era. The Army was Daddy’s second branch of the military since he began his tour of duty with the Marines in 1925, at Fort Logan in Colorado. Born in 1910, that would make him around fifteen with his first enlistment but this was not unusual for boys looking for adventure at that time.
Daddy was born in Madison County,North Carolina. His family moved in early 1911 to Loveland, Colorado. Our grandfather was a bit of a nomad and the "Wild, Wild West" with promises of fortunes untold was calling to him. Times and territories were untested and I cannot imagine our grandmother with two babies and another on the way traveling to the frontier and leaving her loving family behind. The family expanded to ten children while in Colorado, with two more to arrive upon returning to North Carolina many, many years later. The work was hard, grueling and unrelenting, totally different from the mountains of North Carolina, and not much of a childhood for young ones. Grandfather was demanding and not one to be questioned.
Perhaps with this background in mind, it is easy to suppose that the military was a great escape and an adventure of a lifetime. How difficult could boot camp be after fourteen hour days harvesting sugar beets fighting the fierce weather of the Rockies, and tolerating Grandfather? For a curious young man and his older brother, there was a world out there and they had every intention of discovering it and getting an education. And that is just what happened.
Following four years with the Marines, Daddy enlisted in the Army and would remain with the Army until his honorable discharge in 1946. Even though there were few times that military service was mentioned during our childhood, judging from photographs, letters and recommendations found about thirty years later, I think Daddy was proud of his military service. Had it not been for a broken back in Iceland of 1945, I believe the Army would have been his career. As a child of the ‘60’s, the Vietnam War was in full swing and the only real whipping I received from Daddy was over an anti-war comment, I was stupid enough to utter. After what he had seen and endured during WWII, there would be no “doves” settling in our home. This moment not only changed my attitude; later it would play an important role in my future. No, I did not join the military but I did receive a scholarship for all my college years based on my academic record and my father's military record. Never again did I question the militia of our country.
As an adult, there are so many questions I would like to have had answered by Daddy. But as a child, the biggest question I had was “When can we go horseback riding?” Daddy died when I was thirteen and Sister was nine so we really did miss that time of bonding. Mother was from the genteel generation that did not talk about things past and with all grandparents deceased, we would wait three decades before finding the boxes with the answers. But every November 11th, we are most proud of the bravery of our father and thankful to have known that his devotion to America was a lifelong passion. VETERANS, thank you for all you have done to make our country a safe place to live.
An update on Sister's wild costume... She is a Goth cheerleader with the old Gilda Radner look for her hair. As a volunteer for a local police department in her area, Sister always helps with the Halloween booth. The most interesting costume for this year was a family dressed as: The Addams Family, complete with Cousin It. Too bad there were no pictures of this group.
For a little "eye candy" and some interesting music, check out this site. No, don't be afraid. I have not gone over to the "dark side" with Leningrad Cowboys again. Ladies, I think you will like these ten handsome men and their style of performing. I prefer to listen rather than watch their videos. You can thank Sister for this tip of the day.
Your Ambassador has returned from attending the dedication of the sculpture in Waynesville, North Carolina.
This piece of public art has been titled, “Celebrating Folkmoot” and was commissioned by the Waynesville Public Arts Council. For those of you who are not familiar with the word, “folkmoot”, let me enlighten you.
Twenty-six years ago, the concept of “Folkmoot” or “a meeting of the people” was introduced to the tiny mountain town of Waynesville by Dr. Cliff Border and other interested citizens. This was to be a hosting of international dancers by the town of Waynesville for about one week and would take place in July. The first festival featured groups representing nine countries: England, Germany, Holland, Ireland, Mexico, Puerto Rico, Turkey and some bluegrass musicians from our Appalachian area. Over the years, some 200 groups from 100 different countries have participated with a new slate of performers each year.
As you can imagine, this was no small task to find the groups, plan the events & venues, organize lodging and to sell not only the tickets but to sell the community on this newfangled idea. Mountain people don’t always take to change with enthusiasm but for the first event, the folks came from all over western North Carolina. At that time, I was living in Waynesville and teaching high school. This was beyond exciting and some of my students were asked to serve as hosts and hostesses for various groups. That meant staying with the group for the entire visit, even sleeping in the classrooms and dining with their group. It became the opportunity of a lifetime for many mountain kids and a life-changing event for even more. Two of my favorite students realized that they had personalities plus; began to wonder about the rest of the world and went on many excursions outside the States as they progressed through college. One young man became so enamored with the Romanian Ballet Troupe, that he followed his true love to Romania; proposed and began the saga of waiting for Visas while continuing college. That story has a wonderful ending with marriage, children and living in Waynesville.
Now, I am not saying that our town was backward but I taught students who had never been outside the county. Really, in 1984! They had never heard another language other than English and some referred to me as “a foreigner” since I had lived all over the state of North Carolina and spoke precise English. I was an English teacher, after all. This influx of “strangers” in their curious costumes, odd eating habits, and their love of dance managed to cross the language barrier and endear the locals to wanting Folkmoot to survive. For many years, our international guests were housed in one of the schools…yes, cots were set up in classrooms; meals were served in the school cafeteria and school activity buses were volunteered to take the guests to their venues. As word-of-mouth spread the news of Folkmoot, visitors began planning vacations around the July event and buses were traveling to surrounding counties to showcase the dancers. All the volunteers were just local people who gave their time and love for our visitors. My two favorite times with Folkmoot would have to be the International Parade on Main Street and the closing ceremony. My all-time favorite group is hands down, the stilt walkers from France! If this has intrigued you, please go to the website for more information. ( http://www.folkmootusa.org/)
Anyway, back to my evening visit to Waynesville…The council had commissioned an artist, Wayne Trapp, (http://www.waynetrapp.com/) after reviewing numerous applications to design a sculpture that would say: “FOLKMOOT”. The contest to design a flag and create a country was left up to interested individuals. These creations, including Zapponia, were submitted to Mr. Trapp and then he worked his magic. The link below has an excellent photo of the sculpture. http://www.townofwaynesville.org/content/view/362/363/)
Ok. You really can’t see the glorious flag of Zapponia since the artist incorporated all the designs submitted but some part of Zapponia is evident. As the sun set rather quickly and the temperature dropped into the thirties, the crowd assembled for the dedication of “Celebrating Folkmoot”. Your Ambassador was introduced as one of the designers and then several speeches later, we followed the bagpiper, a few steps, to The Gateway Club for a warmer gathering of friends and hospitality. Wayne Trapp gave an informative presentation of his background and works he has completed, which you can see on his website.
Then it was time to head to my “sponsor’s” home for a long visit over an excellent Zinfandel. Check out her darling cats, who were thrilled to have another human in the house for the night. We kept her husband busy taking pictures and pouring wine. By the way, "said" husband is almost ready to publish his first book but more on that another time.
birds gone bad!
