A worthy new online magazine

You gotta love a southern food magazine if its name is OKRA. And this one is.

Launched by the Southern Food and Beverage Museum last month, OKRA is an online magazine that explores the bood, beverage and related culture of the American South. I am truly honored to be included in the first issue, which is an ambitious jump out of the gate by editor Stephanie Carter.

Read my interview with cookbook author Holly Herrick, and spend some time clicking around the magazine. There are vintage menus, discussions of libations and much more to woo you away from work on a dreary winter's afternoon.




Look for me again in OKRA in the coming months -- I am sending more ideas Carter's way and hope she likes what she reads!

The Magic of a Good Meal

I love to eat.

Anyone who knows me knows that (despite my childhood ardor for Little Debbie Swiss Cake Rolls) I am a foodie. And I love to engage in the conversation about food, watching food shows (I like PBS more than Food Network for these), reading magazines, blogs and tweets about food, and of course, writing about food. So it's only fitting that the following statement carry its proper "weight":

I recently had one of the 5 best meals of my life.

It was on a cold Tuesday night in December, but the table was full of some of my favorite people, and the food was pure magic.

Mike Lata + FIG = magic

Now it's true -- Lata gets a lotta love around here, heck, a lot of love by more than around here. He recently sharpened his knives on Iron Chef and lots and lots of people tout him as one of the country's best chefs. But what I had on Tuesday was light years away from any recipe, any cooking show, any Iron Chef competition.

Why was it magical?

Because I didn't want to figure out what made everything taste so good. I'd never had so many flavors working together on one dish on one table where they each worked together and I didn't say -- "how did they do this?" I just wanted to eat it, savor it, and share the meal with everyone.

Happy holidays, all you foodies. Hope you find a little magic at your table ...

Blogger Love

I had the opportunity to act as consulting editor on The Post and Courier's holiday gift guide, and it got a little blogging love. An article from Gift Wrapped is mentioned on "Christmas Rapping."

As Dickens once said, this blogger "keeps Christmas in her heart all year":

http://christmasrapping.blogspot.com/2010/12/wherein-i-am-interviewed-for-article.html

Holla for Challah

I love to make challah bread. Although I'm not Jewish, it is the only bread that I can make. Really. It is my favorite recipe from a little Fleishmann's yeast cookbook, and I originally chose to make it because it was braided. My thoughts: "OOOh, pretty ..."

 So it was just perfect when Today's Charlotte Woman asked me to interview Sharon Katz --  a master challah bread baker. Sharon was a wonderful interview. She was fun, vibrant, intelligent, and very practical about her baking skill. I got to research a little food history as well (always fun) and Sharon got a photo shoot with her grandson Eli. Win win.

Try out Sharon's recipe, or take a look at mine. If the holidays put you in a baking mood, why not try challah?

Local Lowcountry Love

I know it's been a while, but I have been busily writing from my little desk, so much so that I've not had time to write about writing -- or the interesting things I get to write about.

Time to remedy that.

Almost a month ago, I covered the Second Lowcountry Artists Market for Charleston Scene. It's really a great idea, using the resource of Etsy, the daytime empty space of the Music Farm, and Charleston's passion for buying local to bring together great artists and crafters.

This particular Saturday was also special for one vendor in particular. Neve Inspired Clothing officially launched their line of handmade children's clothing, and their booth was instantly one of the most popular at the show. It was a family affair, with Bob and Kris manning the booth while new baby Shep slept through the whole thing!

Their ability and artistry comes together to create fun, funky clothes for the cool kids in your life. And for you if you see something you love and ask *very* nicely. :)

I Heart Charleston Jazz

I've loved jazz as long as I can remember. I gained a closer connection with it when I realized in scholarly research (for teaching my American Studies 1920s class) that Charleston was just as much a hotbed of jazz as New Orleans.

And I live here. Woo hoo.

The "hotbed" really centers around the Jenkins Home for Children, and a concert this weekend centers around a benefit for that Charleston institution. Still in existence more than 100 years later, its legacy is much more than just music.

The great trumpet prowess of Joey Morant and the elegant saxophone of Lonnie Hamilton, III are just two legends that are part of that Jenkins legacy, and two names that have worked for years in their respective fields. Their thoughts on jazz are just as important as their music, and I was thrilled to get to talk to them one-on-one.

Ghost Lady indeed

Well. It's official. Based on the article this month in Today's Charlotte Woman (check out pages 44-45), I'm officially the "ghost lady" of Charlotte. And although you'll see me photographed in a jaunty top with a smile on my face, I know it's true. I do write about ghosts, I have spoken about ghosts, think I've encountered ghosts, and yes, even worn black pointy toe boots to multiple book signings.

It's the 7-year anniversary of Ghost Stories of Charlotte and Mecklenburg County, and it's wonderful that people are still interested in the book and my writing of it. 

So there it is -- I happily embrace my ghost lady persona in October of each year. No matter how sunny the streets of Charlotte are, ghosts be afoot. Happy haunting!

My beach

In Charleston, everyone has a beach. Think of it as your default beach setting, and each one in the area has its own distinct vibe. There's (the main spots) Sullivans Island, IOP, and Folly within 20 minutes, but further afield you'll find Kiawah's private slip of sand, Edisto, and Beachwalker Park.

My beach is Folly. I can take the back roads and be looking at the water in close to 12 minutes (depending on the stop light at Center Street) and it's the place we go on a Friday night when we want to hang out and be casual.

Wanna know more? Check out my Folly Beach profile in this month's AAA Go Carolinas Magazine. But don't spread the good word too much -- we still would love to be able to get our favorite spot at Taco Boy!

Falling into fashion

Although my fashion is too often centered around my favorite sandals (read flip-flops), I do love a good heel, a good dress, and a good glass of bubbly.

I got all three of those this past Saturday lunch at Jasmine Porch's Fall Fashion with a Flair event. After writing about it in Charleston Scene, I was really looking forward to a great event, especially since my girlfriend Holly was riding shotgun.

What a way to spend a random Saturday afternoon. Models paraded around diners in between courses, and we all got to check out the beautiful styling, fit and details of some of the region's best designers. See how close we were to the "runway"?

Eden Boheme's show was (as always) a highlight, but the standout for me was Julie Wheat and Cavortress. As a vintage girl myself, I was in love with her pairing of new and old and her great eye for culling greatness out of something that can too often be an excuse for thrift store.

All in all, the looks, the women, and the mix of styles and accessories inspired me to go home and dig in my closet. Watch out, I may wear that vintage cowboy hat yet ...

A Night in Harlem

Looks like it is going to be a rainy week in Charleston, so why not decide to spend an evening inside the gorgeous Dock Street Theatre? You'll be transported to late 1920s Harlem with "Blues for an Alabama Sky." In my preview from last week, you'll get a little history about the period, a little background about the troupe who is performing, and a little conversation with the lead actress.

Limin'

http://www.charlestonscene.com/news/2010/sep/09/dos-santos-prepares-for-first-underground-lime/

Say it with me: "cuuuteee boooteee"

Cutey Booty is just fun to say. Admit it. Now that you've seen the term yourself, you are going to search for a way to work it into your daily life.

Fortunately, I don't have to work that hard. Lately, it seems like I've used any excuse (including, yes, Eric Bana, that handsome devil) to drop the term in conversation. And although I am silly and it is Friday, I have a real reason for talking about it.

In this month's Lowcountry Parent, I profiled Whitney Koval, co-founder of Cutey Booty, a children's clothing company from Mount Pleasant, S.C. that is creating bloomers for the fashion-forward toddler. Koval, along with her business partner Angie Medlock, are hoping to expand their company to include a larger variety and age range of clothing.

For now, these moms-on-the-go are doing business right, putting family first and making smart choices, from testing various snaps for high quality to choosing local design geniuses Stitch Design Co. to create their logo and web site.

And it's such a cute logo ...

Vacation August

This year, it seems like August was deemed vacation month. I haven't seen a lot of people, have had out of office auto replies from many more, and I understand. For those in the world of media, however big and small, August is the last breath of fresh air before the general fall push and the holiday editions everywhere.

For us, it's been vacation too, although a short one.  Our favorite is returning to the same touchstone of garden paradise and blue waters, and this year, we saw sea turtles swimming in the clear waters a mile or so off Molasses Coral Reef off the coast of Key Largo. Needless to say, that was a good day.

Especially with an ending like this ...

The Queen of Boheme

Model:  Anna Lassiter 

Image: Julia Elizabeth Jones Photography

I have never wanted to hug someone I just met more than I wanted to hug Anna Lassiter.

It was her created environment, Eden Boheme, that made me instantly happy and huggy. A few weeks ago, I interviewed the model and fashion designer in her store, Eden Boheme, on lower King Street, and she was genuine and enthusiastic and barefoot elegant. She was the unassuming princess of this great domain, filled with things that made we want to squeal like Shirley Temple: frothy tulle, great flocked wallpapers, a canopy and plush rug and a deliciously decadent couch, not to mention the clothes (!) and the shoes (!) ...

We talked about the intersection of fashion and interior designer and about her upcoming Anna Boheme fashion show that I was previewing for Charleston Scene (read the preview here). It was a great conversation and I could have stayed much longer, talking fabrics and browsing the wares.

She was an emerging designer at this year's Charleston Fashion Week, and I doubt she'll be "emerging" much longer. She's well on her way ...

Writing about art begets picking up a brush

This past Saturday started out like many other muggy mornings, the sliding glass door fogging up at the bottom and the coffee too hot but desperately needed. But it ended as no other Saturday had before it -- with my own oil painting drying on the table!

After many years of admiring the artist's process, I finally got the chance to put a brush in my own hand, and it was a wonderful experience. For me, the morning was much more about the experience of painting with a great teacher and great classmates Holly Thorpe and Mona Floyd, than it was about doing anything "wrong" or even "right."

Karen Hagan was a wonderful instructor with practical tips that broke down the creative process. And to see how she lays out a painting composition was reward enough, but when we got to the palette itself, I was able to put some of her tips into practice. The bonus was being able to smear, mix and fill my brush with the saturated colors on my palette. I was all about the palette.

And, of course, we all want to paint again. I am dreaming of Karen's fall workshop at Lake Garda. There are still at least four spots left ...

The End of the Beginning

It is time to admit something -- I'm not nearly finished on the fiction project.

This is a big deal for me to say, because in October 2009 I proudly typed "the end" and announced that I was ready to send it to an agent. The agent said that she would still take a look at it, so I formatted away and hit "send." And then I waited.

(Now, please note, I didn't use this time to just paint my nails and take up woodworking. I was still writing a slew of freelance magazine and newspaper articles, moving, and, well, trying NOT to think about the fiction project.) I didn't open the file again, I didn't try to tweak characters or improve plot lines, I simply let it sit, as it was FINISHED.

Boy was I wrong.

You know what happens next, right? That's right. The agent passed on the project, a few months ago after reading the full manuscript, and I still waited. I looked for other agencies, sent other queries, anything except open that file.

But over the past few weeks, instead of dreading the file, I started to miss my characters. And I started to think about the writing itself, that maybe in my work I had tried so hard to write a subtly nuanced story that I nuanced myself out of much of the story. There was a lot more there to explore that I had left untouched. I realized that that October day was just the end of the beginning.

I am thankful, thankful that the agent took so long to respond, thankful that I am not abandoning the project, and thankful that at least the beginning of the next stage is finally illuminated.

So the file is opened. The quintessential red pen is out and I am happy to visit the setting and see my characters again. If I want to read it again, maybe someone else will too.

You wanna be a big shot, do ya?

I remember my first reaction at seeing Warhol's work, in this case the iconic Campbell's soup can. It went something like this:

*dialogue in my head as I listened to a lecture in college* OK ............. he just copied the can, right .... and he made more than one ???

Of course, after years of schooling and many art openings and such, I started to respect the fact that while, it wasn't "that hard" (common dismissive artspeak), he was the first to think of it. That really still seemed to be a cop out.

But after writing this week's cover feature in Go Triad about the Weatherspoon's exhibit of Warhol's Polaroids, well, I am getting it. And I am liking it.

I'd always imagined Warhol flippant, a man who knew how to use the media and who was more style than substance. That's the image he often portrayed, the type of people with whom he surrounded himself. But as for art, this man was serious. He did really breathe art, weaving together all parts of his life into an artistic web. His film fed his art that fed his celebrity that fed his image that fed his photography and around the horn again.

It was weird to a lot of America, still is, really, and it was very much a Studio 54 New York Thing. But I think I'm starting to get it. I might not be on that 54 dance floor, but at least I'm in line behind the velvet ropes.

A Writers Block

As you might have noticed, I am working hard at this writing thing. So it was fortuitous that in the past month I've had the wonderful opportunity to interview two other hard-working writers who seem to miss the meaning of downtime.

The first was Lowcountry royalty Dottie Frank, whose 11th novel debuted this week. She decided to kick off her book tour with a benefit for the Charleston County Public Library, and that gave me an excuse to track her down and talk about writing the Lowcountry. Some of that conversation was captured here for a Charleston Scene article, but I gained much more from my conversation with her than could fit into 500 words.

She was charming, down to earth and so generous explaining process and how she feels about her own writing. I was enamored.

The second interview was children's book author and illustrator Jim Young, who has managed to write / illustrate 24 books despite a full-time position at the Greensboro Public Library (yes, how cool is it that both of these writers are very connected to their local libraries?). And you know what was even more amazing? Jim is very calm about the whole thing, so much so that you could mistake him for a yoga instructor instead of a guy who loves being around children and loves painting wacky animals.



His process centers around working at the kitchen table until the last part of the process, so it seems he loves being the eye of the family hurricane. At least, that's what I imagine, although he might have a family as serene as he.

Two different perspectives. Two very different writers, but both fulfilled writing lives. It can be done, and these two are doing it.

Brandi Carlile Got a Charleston Homecoming

Yes, I know, singer/songwriter Brandi Carlile is from the opposite side of the country, not Charleston, S.C. But when she took the stage last evening, she didn't realize we had been waiting for her all this time. She does now and seemed genuinely happy and at home with the at-capacity crowd that filled the Music Farm.

In my concert preview article in last week's Charleston Scene, I quoted Brandi as saying that sometimes a concert is "gut wrenching and sometimes it's just a party."

Last night, Brandi threw us a party.

She threw numerous picks into the audience as the finale for songs. She whipped the cord of her electric guitar around like a tail. She laughed with bandmates, talked between songs, and at one point, asked the crowd with a laugh, "What would you like to hear? The set list has pretty much gone to shit at this point!"

People shouted. Brandi made eye contact and listened. And she played the songs that had been requested. And then she played more. And what is a good party without a Johnny Cash song? Well, not good enough, the band thought, so they threw in the most awesome (yes, I am a writer and should come up with a fresh term here, but, well, it WAS most awesome) version of "Folsom Prison Blues" that has ever been played outside of Folsom Prison.

Thanks Brandi. Y'all come back now, ya hear?

Luxury lives up to its reputation

As a resident of Charleston, I rarely if ever have a reason to visit Kiawah Island Golf Resort, except for a delicious special-occasion dinner at one of the restaurants. Still, the few times I have been there, I have been impressed. Kiawah is one of those places that lives up to its hype, and its hype is about service.

Yes, the place is beautiful, to be sure, but it is the people who work in this mini-city who impress me. People are nice, genuinely helpful and for the most part, seem to take pride in the high standards of service their employer requires.

My latest foray into the resort -- the spa. In this month's Go Magazine, I detail what sets this created oasis apart from so many other spas. I hope the Kiawah powers that be read this and invite me back for that lemon verbena treatment (yes, I should be ashamed at blatant begging, but ... lemon ... verbena ... ). Just ignore the fact that I have a crazy schedule -- I promise, Kiawah, I will be able to fit you in!

Amelia Island a green island getaway

Bob and I had the opportunity for a later-summer getaway last year to Amelia Island, and in this month's Go Magazine website, the article about the "green" resort is a web extra. Click here to access it and then cruise around the website for more travel tips.

My travel tip for Amelia Island, Fla.? Renting a golf cart is an option for the resort and perfect fun for tooling around this expansive place. There is much to see, it's easy to transport lots of stuff to beach or golf course or tennis court, and well, when you're driving a golf cart, you're having a good day!

My little voice in this big mess

http://www.postandcourier.com/news/2010/may/07/many-americans-doing-what-they-can-in-oil-disaster/?print

The Music Keeps Playing

Thanks to the wonderful Charleston Scene, the music articles keep flowing. Here's the latest, my interview with Shawn Colvin, a great honor! She was an easy and very, very smart interview. Smart as a whip and with a twinkle in her eye to be exact, the kind of woman I like to know, the kind of woman that I like to listen to ...

I love this Song!!!

Ooh -- the heady past days, when I first discovered the minor chords of Andrew Bird's violin, meandering in the background of a Squirrel Nut Zippers song. They were great, he was great, and I just could not get enough of where that music took me.

It was all deep 1930s nights where the stars were low in a field riding back down a dirt road from town. The smoke that clung to clothes after stepping out of a basement jazz club in 20s France. Faded beadboard paneling, and the smell of this morning's fried eggs still lingering near lunch in the back of the house kitchen where the windows were often open. And always root magic.

I'd forgotten that feeling until last week when, in the process of researching an article about the new band Screen Door Porch, I heard "Zemurray," a cut from their debut record, and remembered. It was right back there.

The full article is in today's Charleston Scene . The song is in my iTunes library. Take a listen.

Zemurray - Screen Door Porch

I'm not krackin' on Uncle Kracker

To me, Uncle Kracker's music is about shopping, possibly at Kohl's or when I am in the grocery and find myself humming something I don't even know I know while trying to decide between quinoa or just the basmati rice blend. Just because I don't willingly listen to his music doesn't mean others don't (whoa, check out that quadruple negative, Mrs. Nelson), so I was happy to have the chance to interview him.

He was calling from Allentown, PA when we chatted, and he was pleasant and well-intended during our interview. He also honestly tried to answer my questions and did not sound bored, even if he was. I thank him for that.

Here's the interview in today's Charleston Scene, complete with details about his upcoming date in Charleston.

Click here if you can't remember what he sings ...

Uncle Kracker

Childress interview hit newsstands

It's been months since I interviewed NASCAR celeb Richard Childress, and what I most remember about the interview was how gracious he was and how "non-NASCAR" his office was. First, it was huge, at least 2/3 of the square footage of my current dwelling, and second, it was obvious he is a serious big-game hunter. There was the animal skin rug, various heads on the wall, large oversized furniture and the like. It was like a Hollywood movie, which is the way I think he likes it.

Read the non-hunting article here in the current issue of Triad Living, and find out his persuits closer to home.

When I do my little turn on the catwalk

Well, it's fashion week in Charleston, and although I'm actually in Dallas (researching stories) I did have a chance to recently interview a true emerging designer whose designs will walk the Marion Square runway as part of Eden Boheme's show. Her name: Stephanie Teague. Her background: Charlottean, model, Miami maven, and most recently, hot new designer.

She's one of those people that have always cut up their clothes. You know those girls in high school that took the necks out of their sweatshirts or made a dress into a shirt and then used the leftover fabric to make all of her friends bracelets? Well, that was Stephanie. But she kept doing it after high school, learned more about fashion from wearing some of the best designers in the world on the catwalk, and her stuff just kept getting better and better. And now its good, really good.

As part of getting her designs out there, she started a shop on Etsy. She immediately started selling (sorry to the thousands and thousands that this DOESN'T happen to), and now she can barely keep up with demand. And then there is the fashion week thing, and a solo show at New Orleans Fashion Week ...

You can get the whole story here. And if you *ever* ask me "Who are you wearing?" the answer might just be "Stephanie Teague."

I'm positively bubbly

After 5 years of covering the Charleston Wine + Food Festival, I finally got a ticket to my most coveted event -- Bubbles and Sweets. The evening did not disappoint, so check out my review here:

http://www.charlestonscene.com/news/2010/mar/10/bubbles-and-sweets-bubbly-good-time/

You can't read Flannery O'Connor with spring fever

I recently pulled out Flannery O'Connor's Everything That Rises Must Converge to reread. It was a rainy February, damp and chilly in an endless cycle it seemed, and the stories fit. I'd first read this book in high school (it was THE book that cemented my going into college as an English major) and was amazed at the flow, the tight stories, the spot-on characters with deadly demises.

I'd also taught this book in Southern Literature, and my classes, esp. the ones at Belmont Abbey, had a lot to say about it. So all that's to say, I thought I knew this book.

Whoa, this book is depressing. Let's just say, things do not end well. Men have problems with their mothers and women have problems with their egos. "The Greenleafs" matched my mood one day, "Everything that Rises Must Converge" another. I was reading it differently this time, looking for the writing clues, using it as a learning tool. Yes, it was depressing but beautifully depressing like a scarred desert landscape (or something).

But then a redbud tree bloomed, and that was it. Forget the scarred landscape. I can't read Flannery O'Connor when I have spring fever.

It's Time

Although the fiction project is still a little kite floating in the market sky, it is time ...

Time for me to write another book proposal. Now, this did not come out of left field, as I have been batting around this idea for some time (in writer speak, that means mentioning it randomly to friends and family in the middle of a discussion about Christmas gifts, who had a baby or what was their favorite meal @ the Glass Onion). Still, having an idea and writing a proposal are two different things.

It has to be formal. It has to be informed. You have to know about the possible market competition, about the possible outlets for sales. It has to be organized (not like my verbal ramblings), and in short, I have to sell the idea.

Now, this is for another non-fiction book, and I'm pitching it to a new publisher. Although I've been down this road before, this is the place for me where the blank page is daunting. I haven't quite got up the courage to put something on that blank page, but I'm working up to it. I have saved the blank document in my book proposal file. :)

A go-to store to add to the list

My husband is a good gift-giver. He really tries to think about gifts and often gives me significant things -- a piece of pottery, little one-of-a-kind trinkets and jewelry that has a story. I thrive on this. But he has a secret.

In every one of the places we have lived together, he has a go-to store, a place where, for any occasion, he can go in and find something I will like. It's always a store that is part art gallery, part gift shop, and eclectic, filled to the brim with goodies. And once he finds it, he knows it.

If we ever move to Asheboro, I have his go-to store all picked out ... Circa Gallery.

A few weeks ago on a blustery but sunny day, I got to wind through the countryside to this little NC town, known more for the zoo than anything else. But what I found was a little oasis in a couple of downtown blocks where I could have happily wasted an afternoon. Circa would be the center of that afternoon.

Filled with art of various mediums, jewelry and even handmade soap (I love to smell handmade soap!), this gallery stocks close to 80 artists and is at the forefront of an evolving Piedmont art scene. They have good stuff, shiny stuff, colorful stuff, warm and fuzzy things, and plenty of space to browse, to stop, to take a closer look. Go, but be warned, it could become your next go-to store too.

I'm Wild for Wild in the Kitchen

For this year's Southeastern Wildlife Exposition section in the Post and Courier, I had the opportunity to write about a new program which focuses on S.C. products and local chefs using those products (read article here on p. 10). Part "state fair" tent and demonstration kitchen, Wild in the Kitchen was a great event B. and I got to attend this past weekend.

Besides seeing a great cooking demonstration by Fred Neuville, here's what we sampled as a roving breakfast of sorts -- remember, all produced in S.C.-- in as faithful an order as I can remember:

-- boiled peanuts
-- a pork rind with barbecue sauce on it
-- a tortilla with barbecue sauce on it
-- creamy cheese grits
-- dry wine from noble grapes
-- semi-dry wine from muscadine
-- bloody mary mix
-- quail
-- more cheesy grits
-- pimento cheese
-- pickled okra
-- chocolate milk from the Coburg dairy

And then I was hungry for lunch.

Positive Art

Positive gets a bad rap. Pollyanna. Naive. Pipe dream.

Critical people are often seen as smart. Discerning. More in tune.

Truth is, it's often harder to be positive, to step over the ease of doing nothing because there is no use. I like positive people.

Edwin Gil is one of those people. A visual artist who transformed a youthful rebellious streak into an adult rebellious (or activist) streak that says "This does not have to be the way it is," he is using what he knows, art, to bring awareness of the growing problem of HIV/AIDS in the Latino community. He is speaking out when so many others are holding it in. He's tweeting. He's posting on facebook. And he's painting. And his paintings are cool.

I met him through his upcoming new exhibition, "Positive Art.". Who knew painting could be brave?

Honoring

I've been asked on a couple of occasions to write an article about an artist who has recently died. Although I didn't know these artists, I always interview those who did and try to find a kernel of their artistic life to pass along to the readers. The latest is in Go Triad today, a watercolor artist whose "day" job was that of a commercial artist in New York City.

Although I never met Carl, for my angle in the article, I conjured an image of a quiet studio on Saturday afternoons where he would paint, away from everything except for the memory of a beautiful locale. He did it just for him.

Relocation of My Little Desk

I am a water person. Never made any bones about it, from the days of my childhood spent in the pool overlooking Kure Beach to the way the black rocky ribbon of the Catawba River underneath the highway can make my eyes water in the space it takes to drive over it just after dusk on a deep August evening.

So it is only fitting that B. and I have packed up the little desk and our overabundance of grilling spice mixes and headed again for the coast. B. has always loved the beach, and although the bright sands of our beloved Florida are too far a drive from family, B. discovered I've fostered in him a love for the marsh and the way the grasses turn deep green after a long golden winter dragging the tides of brackish water between their reeds. It also seems that we didn't realize how much we missed the simple joy of driving past the skies reflected in marsh on a simple trip to the grocery store, a friend's house, or a workaday morning.

So here we are, relocated again, back to the coast where we can hear the tide reports on the evening news and smell the salt (along with pluff mud and depending on an unkind breeze, an occasional whiff of the paper mill) in our little spot on James Island, back to the island and the city that I love.