Thursday Thirteen: I love Hollins

My alma mater is Hollins University, though it was Hollins College when I received my diploma in 1993.


The administration building at Hollins University.

Here are 13 reasons why I love this school:

1. Women who are going places start at Hollins. Never was there a truer motto. Hollins gave me a sense of self, a feeling of strength, and a sense of personhood.

2. Attending classes bestowed upon me a sense of worth that I sorely lacked.



3. The campus is truly lovely. A visit to campus will restore my spirits quicker than Prozac.



4. Professor Jeanne Larsen. Jeanne took me under her wing for much of the time I was there and fostered my writing. (You can see a picture of her here.)



5. The library. Hollins has a great library, although it is now in a different building than it was when I attended school. The picture of above is where the old library stood; now it is a museum.



6. They only ask for money once a year!



7. I have fond memories of my time on campus, even though I was not a traditional student.



8. The Horizon program, Hollins' route for non-traditional age women. I was 22 years old when I entered this program; actually a bit young for it, but that is how I went in nevertheless. I was able to work and go to school part time.



9. It took me eight years to obtain my four-year diploma, so I have spent a lot of time on campus.




10. They offer many events to the public. If I were inclined I could spend some time on campus every week at some free event or another.



11. Completing my B.A. in English gave me a sense of purpose and pleasure that nothing else has matched (excepting maybe my marriage).

12. The writing courses at Hollins taught me how to refine my writing abilities. While I often suspect I am a disappointment since I haven't written a book, I know that I am a better writer for having attended the college.

13. Hollins has fostered some famous people: Ann Compton ’69, who was (is?) chief Washington correspondent for abcnews.com. She has covered every president since Gerald Ford and has reported on seven presidential campaigns. Sally Mann ’74, M.A. ’75 was named “America’s Best Photographer” by Time magazine in 2001. Writer Annie Dillard ’67, M.A. ’68 won the Pulitzer Prize for Pilgrim at Tinker Creek. Lee Smith ’67 is widely known for her novels and short stories, including Me and My Baby View the Eclipse, Fair and Tender Ladies, Oral History, The Devil’s Dream, and The Last Girls. Not to mention Betty Branch, whom I wrote about yesterday.

Thursday Thirteen is played by lots of people; you can learn more about it here. My other Thursday Thirteens are here. This is number 108!

Now Showing: Betty Branch

Last night I had occasion to attend an event by the Arts Council of the Blue Ridge at Hollins University.

The event included a tour of the The Eleanor D. Wilson Museum in the Richard Wetherill Visual Arts Center.

Local artist Betty Branch has a showing at the museum that runs into November. Betty Branch: Through The Crow's Eye, a Retrospective, shows off some of this fine artist's work.

My husband has always admired her because she created the Fallen Firefighter Memorial in Roanoke. It is a fine piece of sculpture, one that rends my heart every time I look at it. Photos of the memorial can be seen on her website here.

The sculptures on display at Hollins are quite haunting and beautifully detailed.


I think the one above is my favorite. It is called Out of the Box.



The sculputures above are called Fire Dancer II and Fire Dancer III

The next sculptures show why this showing is called Through the Crow's Eye.



The above is located outside the museum and is a birdbath. I apologize for not getting the name of the piece.



Above is a more detailed shot of the birdbath.



These crow sculpture were in the museum, and again I apologize for not getting the names of the pieces.



The above shows a poem Branch wrote that shows on the wall with this sculpture. I wasn't able to get it all in the camera.

The musuem is open to the public. Branch's work will be showing through November 21, 2009.

The Fincastle Festival

On Saturday, I woke up in a mood so foul I am sure that birds fled the area around the house out of fear of my blackness.

The reasons for my poor state of mind shall remain unmentioned, but suffice it to say that it would take a great deal of sunshine indeed to lighten the dark scowl from my face. And no amount of cold cream was going to ease the lines in my eyes and forehead.

I was in this poor frame of mind when I ventured to Fincastle to see what they are now calling "Heritage Days." I went in hopes the blue skies might cure me.

For over 30 years, up until about 2003, I suppose, Historic Fincastle Inc., (HFI) a preservation group, put on a festival. The Fincastle Festival was actually one of the first festivals around, and it was a big deal indeed. Thousands of people attended. Crafters and vendors number in the hundreds. The art show was lauded up and down the east coast.

But that was long ago. The festival waned in the 1990s, in part because neighboring localities began putting on their own affairs. Salem had the audacity to launch her festival on the exact same weekend, which cut into Fincastle's festival attendance significantly. Salem, after all, is much closer for folks in Roanoke. So to Salem they went.

The Fincastle Festival was holding its own in 1998 and 1999, when I was president of HFI. The organization was struggling at that time. Its membership was failing, as organizations sometimes do, and most of the volunteers were older and tired.

Money raised from the Fincastle Festival went to historic restoration projects around the town. Funds saved many of the quaint buildings in Fincastle, including the Early Cabin, which HFI now operates as a kind of town museum, the Hayth Hotel complex, which a friend now owns and operates as rental apartments, the Blacksmith Shop at Wysong Park (and the park itself, both of which were restored primarily by the Wysong family with assistance from HFI), the Old Jail Building, the Douglas building, located across the street from the Botetourt County Courthouse, and the Helms-Ayers House, among others.


The Douglas Building


The Early Cabin

But the organization had not done much that was noteworthy for about 10 years when I took over the helm. The group needed a project then and apparently still do. It has been a long time since I have heard anything exciting about the organization.

Anyway, the festival in 1999 was not as grand as it had been in the past and I was eager to make it a better event. We needed more volunteers to help out, so I attempted to bring in other supporters, including the Botetourt Chamber of Commerce. However, the HFI Board of Directors ultimately decided they wanted to stay in charge of the event.

Personal matters came to the forefront and after two years I left my post as president and shortly thereafter the entire organization to deal with these issues. The organization eventually went off more or less in the direction I had urged, creating a separate "festival" arm of HFI and hiring a director.

But the festival was proving burdensome and eventually they dropped it in favor of other fundraising efforts. I did not return to the organization, in part because the group changed its focus. I am not sure what they are actually raising money for these days.

In any event, on Saturday I headed to town with memories of past festivals in my brain and my mood as black as a midnight under a cloudy, rainy sky.

After walking a ways, I discovered I had left my memory card for my camera in the computer at home and I didn't have a spare. I had hoped to at least take pictures for this blog, but alas, that was not to be.

This did nothing to help my mood.

I headed up Roanoke Street and found about four artists selling their work. Around the corner on Main Street were another five or six. I think all together there were about 25 vendors scattered about the town.

Walking around Fincastle is difficult for many people. It is hilly and the HFI folks would do well to place things a little closer together next time. People don't want to walk that far for a few things, particularly with nothing in between to draw their attention to something other than the long trudge up a steep hill. I considered it my exercise for the day.

I saw a few people I knew, including a dear friend, a fellow writer, and one of my old professors at Hollins. She put an arm around me and said, "Is it true they fired you from The Fincastle Herald?"

I had to explain that I had been freelancing for the newspaper all along; it only looked like I was on staff because I wrote so much for them, and that they had cut their freelancing budget. She waved away my explanation. "It doesn't matter, you're still not writing for them, and it shows. The paper is terrible," she said.

While I was happy to hear I am missed, I was very concerned about the rumor of my being "fired" when that is not at all what happened. It would be more accurate, though still not correct, to say I was laid off. Anyway, obviously this conversation did not exactly make me feel any better as I wondered who else was thinking that I had been fired. I have a reputation to consider, after all.

I trudged around the block, apparently missing a good deal of activity around the Courthouse, and eventually headed toward my car. I ran into Mrs. Roanoke RnR in the parking lot; she has a much better synopsis of the Heritage Day event on her website, which I urge you to check out for a less bleak outlook. I told her I thought the event was sad, and in comparison to other years, it was.

She, however, enjoyed her day and I am very glad that she did. I have enjoyed reading her blog entries about the day. My foul mood had so colored my landscape that I had forgotten how charming Fincastle can be so I have been pleased to see it again through her eyes.

Sugar Substitutes

Part of my problem with dieting is I crave the sweet stuff. I am a sugar addict.

I like colas. I like sweet foods. Cakes, pies, cookies, chocolate. I try very hard not to eat them and behave myself and act like an adult but, raised as I was with no dietary guidance, it is sometimes difficult to know what is the correct choice. Generally speaking, not eating it is the correct choice, but it is not the choice I like.

What I crave is sucrose, apparently. White table sugar. Yum, yum. According to Wikipedia, there are lots of different kinds of sugars. White refined sugar is probably the worst, but I imagine all of it is suspect.

I do not drink diet drinks because of aspartame. Here is a pro-aspartame website. It will tell you how safe it is.

I lately have been chewing sugar free gum with it in it, though, something I need to stop doing.

Here is a website that tells you how terrible this drug is. It lists 92 different problems that aspartame can cause, including MS, lupus, cancer, vision problems, and death.

Personally, I think this is a loathsome chemical, foisted on the public, oddly enough, by Donald Rumsfield (check this FDA site for some interesting comments about this). Call me a biased liberal, but I feel sure that anything Rumsfield had a hand in simply cannot be good for me.

The 'net is full of reports about asparatame and the illnesses is reportedly causes. Just type it in.

I know when I drink a soft drink with aspartame, it makes me lightheaded and I feel funny. It makes my limbs tingle after I've been drinking it for any period of time, kind of a neuropathy, or something. So I don't drink diet drinks. (I don't notice the same effect from chewing gum, however.)

The government says aspartame does no harm. Since I tend to believe little the government tells me, I guess you can figure what I think about this. I think the stuff is poison.

Excuse me while I throw out my gum since I seem to have forgotten this until now.

Then there is saccharin. This sweetener drug has been around well over 100 years but it is supposed to cause cancer. I don't like the aftertaste and don't use that, either.

Saccharin is only on the market because in 1977 Congress overrode the FDA and forced it to approve it. Check it out at this FDA website. Trust those folks on Capital Hill, yes?

I have tried fructose, and found it wanting. This is also found in most foods as high fructose corn syrup, although Wikipedia is quick to point out there are differences between fructose and high fructose corn syrup.

Splenda is sucralose, and it leaves a taste like chlorine in my mouth. I couldn't figure this out until I looked up stuff about it, and discovered it is sugar turned into a chemical that is, guess what, chlorine. Go to http://splenda.com for the corporate smiley site about it if you want the Disney spiel.

This sweetener also supposedly causes thymus problems and possibly cancer and other problems. It has become quite popular at a very alarming rate. At least it is alarming to me.

There are books about the toxicity of sucralose, and many websites. Just type it in a search engine and be amazed.

I once tried Stevia and it sent shivers all through my body. I have hesitated to try it again. However, of all sweeteners (other than white table sugar), this is the one that I think is the best to use.

Stevia is about 300 times sweeter than sugar. It supposedly has been used for 1000 years in Paraguay. The FDA cracked down on it in 1995, supposedly at the behest of the sugar industry, and Monsanto (Monsanto is a giant food company that apparently exists to make money from foods, regardless of the potential for poison, for anyone who doesn't know that, which I suspect is many Americans).

Stevia is now widely available in the U.S. Information on side effects is conflicting and it depends on who sponsored the research, of course. Research by the aspartame companies shows it is bad; stevia sellers say it is good. I would not use Truvia, which is a sweetener derivative of stevia.

One notation found that stevia makes your body process sugar a lot quicker. At http://sweetleaf.com there is some information, but it is a corporate site and doesn't say much. It does say there have been 1000 tests and it's found to be safe.

Japan apparently has banned most sweeteners except for stevia and sugar.

Craving sweets has been time consuming for me while I try to look all this up. Mostly what I found on things other than stevia is very alarming. I hope it makes others think, too, because indeed these are chemicals. Why should we add chemicals to our bodies?

Getting to know you

Swiped this from an email. You know the drill. Do it if you want!

1. What is your occupation right now? Flopping flounder. No, not really. I am a freelance writer. I just feel like a flopping flounder sometimes.

2. What color are your socks right now? I am barefoot.

3. What are you listening to right now? The coffee pot percolating

4. What was the last thing that you ate? Almonds

5. Can you drive a stick shift? Yes

6. Last person you spoke to on the phone? James

7. Do you like the person who sent this to you? Yes, very much

8. How old are you today? 46

9. What is your favorite sport to watch on TV? I don't have a favorite, but I like to watch ice skating and women's tennis sometimes.

10. What is your favorite drink? Water

11. Have you ever dyed your hair? I've highlighted it, does that count?
12. Favorite food? Chocolate

13. What is the last movie you watched? The Secret Life of Bees

14. Favorite day of the year? My birthday

15. How do you vent anger? I don't, I keep it inside.

16. What was your favorite toy as a child? A stuffed dog.

17. What is your favorite season? Autumn.

18. Cherries or Blueberries? Blueberries. But I like cherries too.

19. Do you want your friends to e-mail you back? No.

20. Who is the most likely to respond? Does not apply.

21. Who is least likely to respond? I have no idea.

22. Where do you live? Southwest Virginia on a farm.

23. When was the last time you cried? Sometime in May.

24. What is on the floor of your closet? Shoes, old pillows and a tie.

25. Who is the friend you have had the longest that you are sending to? Not applicable

26. What did you do last night? Attended a writing seminar (I filled this out Wednesday morning).

27. What are you most afraid of? Living in a box under an interstate overpass.

28. Plain, cheese, or spicy hamburgers? Cheese.

29. Favorite breed of dog? Poodle.

30. Favorite day of the week? Sunday.

31. How many states have you lived in? One.

32. Diamonds or pearls? Oh, give me diamonds.

33 . What is your favorite flower? Iris. But I like most flowers.

Corporate welfare

Ukrops in Roanoke is closing.

The grocery chain, which I have visited approximately five times, was nice and all but since I did not shop it frequently (I live too far away), I had trouble finding the deals. To be honest, I stopped in there for one single item that I could not find elsewhere, and it is something I can live without.

What most folks don't know, since apparently few people read an article all the way through anymore, if they read it at all, is that the City of Roanoke gave the property developer many incentives to build Ivy Market (the name of the development) on this location. So let me remind you.

The deals cut for Ukrops/Ivy Market, a $20 million project, are thus (from The Roanoke Times archives):

$9 million package. "The agreement will allow Painter's development company, IMD Investment Group, to get a maximum $600,000 city grant annually for 15 years. The grants, or rebates, are to be based on the amount of revenue Ivy Market produces annually. The program will be administered through the city's Industrial Development Authority. None of the money will be paid to the developer upfront." - The Roanoke Times, December 19, 2004

According to this article, the developer told the city the project would bring in $1.4 million in annual tax revenue. That meant the city would still get $800,000 after it gave the developer $600,000. But the city's own analysis indicated the amounts actually would be more like $900,000. They went ahead with the deal anyway.

In the same article, which reviews emails, note this quote. "The chances of Ukrop's leaving during the next 15 years are extremely small," [Councilman Brian]Wishneff wrote. He is not a councilman anymore.

I call this largess with taxpayer money corporate welfare. It means the city is giving the developer back money because he decided to operate there. The city hopes to gain financially from their investment over time.

I also call it bullshit. If someone wants to develop something in a community, let them come, provided they meet the zoning, but why pay them? They take the taxpayer dollars and run. Botetourt County has offered incentives many times to businesses, and now we have big empty buildings. Was it really to the citizenry's advantage to make concessions, to offer tax breaks or money up front? Did the jobs stay forever? Did they even last 10 years?

Another instance of corporate welfare is federal agricultural subsidies. This is supposed to help small farmers, you know. We are small farmers. Do you know how much money we receive from the federal government?

ZERO. Not one single penny. Nada, nothing, zippo.

And every other small farmer I know, with the exception of a couple of local dairies, receives nothing, too. Guess who does get all of those millions? ConAgra, DuPont, Cargill, all of the big companies. The companies that don't need the money just to eat and be able to watch cable.

Walmart also receives federal dollars. As of 2004, the $256 billion company had received over $1 billion in state and local government subsidies. In the 1990s it received over $5 million from Roanoke City for its Valley View store. (The Roanoke Times, Dec. 19, 2004). No wonder it wants to put in more Walmarts here. Follow the money.

Here are some of Roanoke's other corporate welfare projects, from the same article:

1994 - First Union, $500,000, 200 new jobs
Early 1990s - Wal-Mart - $5 million for the Valley View store
Mid-1990s - Roanoke Electric Steel, $260,000 for a $14 million investment
1997 - Maple Leaf Bakery, $757,324 for a $20 million investment
1997 - First Citizens Bank, $25,000, 30 new jobs
1999 - Johnson Johnson Spectacle Lens Group, $9.17 million, $125 million investment
2000 - Precision Technology USA, $80,000 $2.2 million investment; 112 new jobs
2001 - Foot Levelers, $34,790, $3.3 million investment
2001 - The Roanoke Times, $600,100, $25 million minimum investment
2002 - Advance Auto, $1.13 million, $6.7 million investment; 168 new jobs
2003 - SEMCO, $150,000, $4 million minimum investment
2003 - Boxley Materials Co., $154,000, $2.5 million investment; 9 new jobs
2004 - Member One, $66,000, $6 million investment

And then you have something like Gander Mountain in northern Roanoke County, which is the only development I've ever heard of that actually turned down incentive money. Good for them. I try to shop there when I need something they sell.

This is our country. Corporate welfare is a plague. This kind of madness needs to stop. NOW. Make corporations work within their own budgets. That is what the rest of us. Why should a corporation be any different?

Blowin' in the wind makes for dirty dancing

This week's deaths of Patrick Swayze and Mary Travers of Peter, Paul and Mary fame both hit home.

Swayze has always been a favorite of mine. My husband says I drool over him when I watch Dirty Dancing. But it was really his type of cancer that cut me to the quick, because my mother also had pancreatic cancer.

And now my husband's aunt has been diagnosed with pancreatic cancer, and I am very sorry about that. I love Aunt Jenny and she deserves better. She is a good woman. I pray for her every night.

I knew Aunt Jenny almost before I knew my husband. Growing up around here, you kind of know everyone. While my husband and I rode the same bus, he was four years older and had nothing to do with some sissy little girl who did her homework and looked out the window. (I still can't believe I married him sometimes! Can it really be?) Aunt Jenny was a substitute teacher while I was in elementary school, and she sometimes taught the class I was in. I went to school with her middle son, Alan, and I can remember when she became pregnant with the youngest cousin, Anthony. So I have a long history with her and I really am hoping for a miracle.

While I had no real connection with Mary Travers, I do know an awful lot of Peter Paul and Mary songs. They were some of the first I learned on the guitar and they are the ones that still come to mind on the rare times I pick the instrument up. Those soothing and cool melodies sometimes sing through my brain at strange times and I find myself humming those tunes. While the group has made no new music in a very long time, and the past music certainly isn't dead, it is still one of those things that brings pause and reflection.

I once wrote a poem that used the Where Have All the Flowers Gone song (which of course would be a copyright violation, wouldn't it. Eek). I hadn't thought of that poem in years. A quick search of my computer and of my files has failed to turn it up, alas. I wrote it in 1985 and it dealt with the bombings in Beirut. Maybe it will turn back up one of these days.

Thursday Thirteen

Today, I present to you pictures of deer.
These were taken in 2006, 2007 and 2008, mostly from my windows.


1. Seeing double.



2. Having breakfast.

3. Looking out.

4. Getting ready for a meeting.

5. Taking a rest.

6. Making a stand.

7. Watching.

8. Double trouble.

9. Seeing spots.

10. Winter feed.

11. Grass is greener in the front yard.

12. Pretty boy.


13. "Gardening."





Thursday Thirteen is played by lots of people; you can learn more about it here. My other Thursday Thirteens are here. This is number 107!

Naming my teachers

I recently saw a request from Diane at Snappy Finger (or Blue Ridge Gal, she keeps changing the name, stop it, Diane!) on Facebook for the name of her third grade teacher, and that made me think. Do I remember all of my elementary school teachers?

Kindergarten at East Salem. I don't remember! I know I had one, though.

1st grade at East Salem. Mrs. Zircle. I recall her as being very mean and sending me home in tears; I remember my mother telling me at some point that her husband had passed away and I should be kind to her. A bit difficult for a six-year-old to understand, I would think.

Breckinridge Elementary School

2nd grade. Mrs. Wright. She was the first teacher to insist on calling me by my "real" name as opposed to the family nickname. I will always be grateful to her for that.

3rd grade. Mrs. Fairfax. She was very kind to me, especially since I think this was the year I started missing an average of 30 days of school due to asthma and related bronchial issues. One of my main memories about third grade has more to do with my parents than my teacher. My father had asked me if there were any black teachers at the school, and I had told him no. When the parent-teacher meeting was held, lo and behold there was my teacher, Mrs. Fairfax ... and she was black. I received a beating for lying. I tried to explain to my father that I just never noticed that she wasn't white. He didn't believe me.

4th grade. Mrs. Lanning. Two incidents with this teacher. In one, she stopped the class mid-discussion and called on me. "Anita, who did your hair?" she demanded. "It looks terrible." My mother had done my hair in some kind of strange part and plait that morning. I never again let my mother do my hair. In the other, Mrs. Lanning sent a note home demanding my parents attend the parent-teacher meeting. She told my parents that she didn't know what was going on at home but obviously there were problems. "That child will not hug anyone," she said. "She yearns to be hugged and sometimes she just stands beside me, very close. If I touch her she flinches, though." My mother berated me all the way home for ... well, not being huggable, I guess. In spite of these incidents, I loved Mrs. Lanning and I was teacher's pet.

5th grade. Mrs. Prease aka Mrs. McCullough. Mrs. Prease cried all through the school year. She really should not have been teaching. I don't know what was going on with her in her personal life but she spent a lot of time with her head on her desk in tears.

6th grade. Mrs. Nofsinger. She was a very old woman who chewed tobacco. She was the most difficult teacher in the school. I thought she was terrific.

Bible Study. We actually had a Bible study course from 4th-6th grade at Breckinridge. Fourth grade must have been a bad time for me, because Mrs. Caldwell, the Bible study teacher, made fun of me in Bible study class because my church attendance book was empty. My family did not go to church. After that I requested to be excused from Bible study and I was sent to the library along with three other children whose parents did not want them in Bible study. I loved learning about the Bible but I didn't appreciate being scolded for something I had no control over.

Books: Heir to Sevenwaters

Heir to Sevenwaters
By Juliet Marillier
Copyright 2008
395 pages

Marillier again visits Sevenwaters and dips into mythology for this addition to her Sevenwaters trio (making it her fourth Sevenwaters book).

I was very much reminded of her first book, Daughter of the Forest, as I read. The lead character, a plucky and determined lass, was very similar in nature. She would endure and take care of her family, no matter what.

The story dealt with the changeling myth in that her young brother was swapped out for a living tree trunk, which others saw as a mannequin but which Clodagh saw as an infant.

There is of course a love interest, an aloof and proud warrior, who ultimately goes along for the adventure as Clodagh journeys to other worlds to save her sibling. In a nice twist, the son she was saving turned out to be different from her original intentions; I'll say no more.

Marillier is very good with descriptions, character growth, and lot. The story fairly skips along and this is not a book in which I skim paragraphs. Rather, this is a story I drank in, sort of like savoring a smoky wine.

I have now read all of the Sevenwaters books by this author and I suspect I will not be adverse to picking up other works.

Books: Song of the Lioness Quartet

Alanna: The First Adventure
In the Hand of the Goddess
The Woman Who Rides Like a Man
Lioness Rampant
By Tamora Pierce

These books, copyrights in the 1980s, are great stories of a female heroine.

Alanna is a young noblewoman who wants to be a knight.

Women, of course, are not knights. She trades places with her twin brother, who would much rather be a sorcerer, and goes in his stead to learn the trade of sword play.

She does this by binding her breasts when they begin to bud, and by changing her name to Alan.

Throughout these books, the young heroine experiences much character growth, though she always shows quite a steadfast determination to achieve her goals. She experiences love and in the latter two books has romps with the prince and a few other fellows. Fortunately this is tastefully done and never in detail; they simply retire to bed together.

The book creates an interesting world where many folks are blessed with a gift of some kind of magic - some are healers, some have foresight, etc. etc. Alanna is a healer but she eschews her gift early on. Later she embraces it.

Very good plots, lots of nice character development (Alanna faints a bit too much for me in the latter books, but oh well), and fast-paced reading.

None of the books lagged and I couldn't tell you which I thought was the better book.

Nicely done.

Local Bloggers Meet Up

Diana, formerly of Blue Ridge Gal, now of Snappy Finger, has scheduled a local bloggers meet up for September 26 at 12 p.m. at Franks Pizza on Alt. US 220. That's near the BAC and the pharmacy and across the street from the Eye Care place.

We had a local bloggers meet up in April and it was quite fun, so I do hope you will plan to attend if you're in the area.

Expect good food, lots of laughs, and a chance to put a face to the blogs you read regularly.

Do come.

My new endeavor

On October 24 I will launch a new endeavor. I am offering a workshop on the business of making money with words and pictures. It will be from 9 - 12:30 p.m. at the Fincastle Library in Fincastle and will cost $50. No pre-registration necessary.

What makes me qualified to do this? Well, if money is the measure of success (I happen to think it's not, but other people do), then I would hope the fact that I've earned over six figures through my freelancing efforts counts.

Other measures of success would include having published more than 1,000 articles in publications like OurHealth magazine, Cooperative Living, Valley Business Front, The Fincastle Herald, The Roanoke Times, The New Castle Record, The Roanoke Star-Sentinel, The Salem Times-Register, and The Cave Spring Connection. I have also won awards for my nonfiction, fiction and poetry.

I will talk about how to establish a successful home office and how to find stories and pictures to sell. I will explain local, regional and state markets, discuss the best way to approach an editor, and examine other forms of profitable writing and photography, including Internet writing.

Handouts will include a list of local and regional markets, suggested reading and examples of successful query letters.

I hope you will join me. It should be a fun 3 or 4 hours.

343 on 9/11

Remembering the 343 firefighters who died in the Twin Towers in New York City on 9/11, so that others may live.

Thursday Thirteen

Today I offer up 13 more things about Myrtle Beach, SC and then this is the last I'll be writing about my vacation. I know some of you are probably glad about that.

1. A cold day at the beach is not necessarily fun, but a blanket and a hat makes a world of difference.




2. Overheard in a restroom at Tanger Outlet: Woman A to child upon leaving the stall: "Go wash your hands." Woman B: "No! Don't use the soap." Woman A: "Why don't you let her use the soap?" Woman B: "I never let her use soap. She might be allergic to it." Woman A (who obviously is a friend to Woman B). "That is so retarded."

3. Golf courses are pretty to look at.

4. My husband is a hard-working man who needs his rest, and he finds the beach restful.




5. On the economy: shopkeepers told us tourism in 2008 was much worse than in 2009; more people are traveling. Of course, gas prices are not $4.50 a gallon this summer.

6. Sand gets into everything.




7. A soft mattress on a king-sized bed is hard to get used to when you normally sleep on an extra firm mattress on a queen-sized bed.

8. Shopping is very hard on your feet.

9. I am a sucker for unproven remedies for bodily aches, particularly my plantar fasciitis. Once again I dolled out many dollars in search of something for my foot pain. This time I bought "Happy Feet" inserts which have a watery type substance in them. I haven't decided if they help but they have changed my weight distribution; I can tell by the difference in my gait and in my calluses.

10. My fudge is just as good as that made at The Fudgery.

11. Myrtle Beach always makes me think about my mother, who passed away August 24, 2000. My mother spent a lot of time at Myrtle Beach and enjoyed the shopping. In 1988 we were vacationing there at the same time and she bought me a lovely London Fog coat, which unfortunately no longer fits. It was one of the nicer times we spent together there.

12. At Barefoot Landing, we saw tigers in a glass cage. One was white. They were magnificent creatures.



13. During a round of putt-putt golf, I sent my ball into the pond. My husband fished it out. He's my hero!



This is not a real elephant. It was at the putt-putt golf course at the pond.





Thursday Thirteen is played by lots of people; you can learn more about it here. My other Thursday Thirteens are here. This is number 106!

Myrtle Beach: Memory Lane

Broadway at the Beach at Myrtle Beach is, first and foremost, a shopping center, but it has a carnival atmosphere.

Hawkers line the walking paths, selling light sabres, cotton candy, popcorn and other portable goodies. Music, generally oldies, blasts from speakers hidden in strategic corners.

A big dragon bursts out of a volcano and has a word with you every hour or so.

In one corner, the remnants of the Myrtle Beach Pavilion, destroyed a couple of years ago, offer a glimpse of what used to be. A few of the rides have been moved to a Nostalgic Park there.



I have always loved the organ (German Baden Band Organ). It was built in 1900. I have watched it play for as many years as we've visited the beach. It wasn't playing when we were there.

Here's what it looked like when we were there:



The other treasure preserved at the nostalgic park is the carousel. I vaguely remember riding on this when I was young.



This is a Herschell-Spillman Carousel and it dates back to 1912. It has lots of animals on it, not just horses. It is one of only 15 of these kinds of carousels in the United States.

The area also offers up some old and new arcade games, and we ventured in there. I am a great lover of arcade games. I played pinball and I won two free games on the machine.

I have been playing pinball since I was infant. My parents told me that my father used to put me in a car seat and take me to the bars, where he would set me on the pinball machine. I chased the balls around while he played. It's a wonder I didn't fall off on my head.

Here we saw evidence of more changes. At Broadway, we loved the old clock shop; it's no longer there. The Christmas store is gone, too. They used to have a laser light show; it's been replaced with fireworks one night a week only. Fudge is now $15 a pound. When did that happen? We thought $6 a pound was high. We usually bring fudge home; this year we decided I could make a pound if we were desperate for the treat.

Taffy is also expensive; it's a family staple and we take boxes of the stuff back with us. What used to cost $1.25 is now $7.95. Same taffy, but it sure has risen in price.

The higher prices caught us off guard; we had to revise our spending to keep up with it. Dinners that we thought would be $50 are now $70; it eats into the budget quickly.

Our trip to Myrtle Beach ended quietly and was not long enough; six days is not enough for traveling and unwinding. As soon as I start to catch my breath it's time to pack the bags and head home again. We have never in our lives taken a solid two weeks of vacation; I would dearly love to do so. But with the farm I doubt that ever happens.

Aside from the chilly weather and the screaming child, we had a nice relaxing time. Vacations are highly recommended.

Myrtle Beach: The Market Common

On Monday, August 31, we toured The Market Common at Myrtle Beach.

This is a new shopping area.

I was keen to explore this because it is similar in concept the Daleville Town Center. I began writing about the Daleville Town Center from its inception and had been following the development of this proposed "traditional neighborhood" for four years, so I was interested in seeing one that was better underway.

The Market Common at Myrtle Beach was built on the old Air Force Base. It has shops, main street areas, and places to live above the shops. Daleville Town Center has the same plan: shops, living spaces, walking - a ready-built town, in other words.

At The Market Common in Myrtle Beach, the shops are filled with things like Barnes & Noble, Williams-Sonoma, Cold Creek. Not stuff that local marketeers and entrepreneurs might sell, but ordinary corporate normal made-someplace-else stuff that you can find most anywhere else in the United States.



I longed to see a line of stores that were different, independently owned and operated, offering up a world of goods that would be unique to each merchant. I would spend time in a place that offered things I could not see elsewhere, but I had no real desire to see the whitewashed goods I can find at Valley View Mall in Roanoke.

I would have liked for Barnes & Noble to have stayed where it was near Broadway at the Beach, and had a smaller bookstore owned by an independent bookseller, for example. Something like a Ram's Head at Towers Mall in Roanoke. There's a great bookstore that should be in something like The Market Common or Daleville Town Center.




The Market Common in theory seems to be fine, but I do not find it enticing. I wonder if in five years it will still stand. The shopkeeper at Williams Sonoma said it had been a struggle to stay open. There were very few people there when we were visiting.


After we hit The Market Common, we went to Tanger Outlet, where we visited many clothing stores, began our Christmas shopping, and in general wore out the bottoms of our shoes. All the people who should have been at The Market Common were at Tanger Outlet, sticking with the tried and true.




Next we went to The Original Benjamin's for dinner, a seafood buffet that cost $26.75 each. The food was great but I felt like I was in a warehouse.

Tuesday dawned cloudy again, so we walked the beach in hopes of working off Monday night's feast. We debated on renting an umbrella and two chairs from the lifeguard. It was expensive - $30 a day, less if you went for multiple days. In the end we doled out $95 for 4 days of use. Otherwise we would have had to buy an umbrella and chairs. I am fair-skinned, burn easily, and on medication that says "stay out of direct sunlight" on it, so no way could I have just lain out in the sun like other beauties.

By the end of the day I had read through two book by Tamora Pierce and started a third. My husband was resting a lot, which was good, and I was trying to.

Soon we would be taking a trip down memory lane.

Myrtle Beach: The Screaming Child

We will remember the third day of our 2009 Myrtle Beach vacation for the screaming girl-child. Her family put up their umbrella and chairs about 15 feet from us. We rent an umbrella and chairs from the lifeguard - expensive, but easier. So we couldn't move.

The couple had three children with them, two girls, who looked to be twins somewhere about age 10, and a younger boy. The boy stole a bottle cap from one of the girls, who was making a sand castle.

"It's mine! It's mine! Give it back give it back give back!" The whine began in a normal voice and quickly grew in volume. Louder. Louder. Louder still.

The boy pestered her a bit; her parents ignored them. Finally she screamed enough that they paid attention. Their male authority figure (black haired, stockily built, northern accent) called a timeout, and sat the boy in a chair and the girl in a chair. The other girl moved to the sandcastle.

The girl in the chair began a constant tirade against her sister. "Gabriella, don't touch that, Gabriella, that's mine, it's mine it's mine mine mine, Daddy make her stop, it's mine Gabriella don't do that, it's mine it's mine." Again an increase in volume, an increase in intensity, until the girl in the chair was screaming. She screamed. And screamed. And screamed for two solid hours.

I don't know how the adults with her stood it and it was obvious she probably does this a lot. She screamed so loudly that every pair of eyes within a football field's length of us trained on this girl, because surely someone was taking a sword to this child's head.

She screamed and screamed and screamed. I wanted to say something to the parents but my husband restrained me. I was trying to rest and read; who could do anything with that racket? It was nerve-wracking and irritating, to say the least. The female adult never said anything; Dad once in a while said "Shut up" but the girl never listened. She screamed so much I thought she might get hoarse but we were not that lucky.

My husband, who was trying to nap, lay there muttering things under his breath like "take her swimming in the deep water" and hoping that the adults would show some couth and shut the kid up, but alas, that did not happen. Had she been mine, I'd have hauled her off to the motel room after 30 seconds of that screaming and made her stay there. For the rest of the day. And then some.

She screamed so much and so hard and so long that my husband at last said the child must be mentally ill. I told him I did not think that; just poorly parented.

After two solid hours of this, my nerves were so raw you would have thought I had ripped them out of my body and exposed them to the air. I do not dislike children - they often amuse me, with their energy and their enthusiasm - but I do not like screaming little brats.

I do not know what the protocol is for dealing with such an incident. I wanted to ask the father for $25 to reimburse us for the umbrella rental; I kind of figured he owed us that. I couldn't figure out how to handle the situation and so did nothing except pray that they would not settle in the same place the next day.

This they did, and the day after and the day after that. Fortunately there were no similar incidents of length, though there were small disturbances of the whining nature. And at one point one of the little brats... um, girls ... came over to my husband and said, "Excuse me, may I please have the time?" which just floored us both.

I know children will be children, and what occurred on subsequent days did not annoy me or bother me; it was easily ignored. Upon reflection I feel sure that this was Daddy with Step Mom or Girl Friend and his children have learned how to take advantage of the problems in the family structure. However, that is no excuse for poor manners and selfishness.

Myrtle Beach: accomodations & the weather

On Monday, August 31, we woke to rain, thunder and lightning on our first day at Myrtle Beach. We had arrived on Sunday, August 30, and discovered that we were staying in an unexpected place.

Our motel turned out to be a remodeled Pan American. Had we known this, I am sure we would not have stayed at this facility. When I called I had been given the impression this was a totally new place that opened in 2007.

No matter. As it was, it turned out fine.

The motel, originally only six stories, was now 13 (14 on the elevator, we Americans are so superstitious), and it had been completely remodeled and renovated, and a sister tower added next door. Once we figured out what had happened I relaxed, though I wasn't surprised when mold appeared in our bathroom on our fifth day there. I alerted housekeeping and thankfully they went after it with bleach.



Our motel from the beach. The lower six floors are the older part; we were on the fourth floor, corner room on the left in this photo.

The owners went to quite an expense to turn their older facility into a new modern one, and I daresay it has paid off. This place was nearly full most of the time we were there. It is a kid-friendly facility and maybe not quite what we were looking for, since we are middle-aged couple with no kids. But I would go back there, now that it has been redone.

Sunday evening, after our arrival, we toured the area as is our habit. We were looking for even more changes than those we found in 2007. We knew coming down that the Pavilion, the race track with the great little go carts and our favorite restaurant, the Outrigger, had vanished. They were gone when we vacationed in North Myrtle Beach in 2007.

This year so much looked different I could not tell what had changed. A few things remained - but now Myrtle Beach is mostly beach, shopping centers and golf. The things that made it unique are no more, and that is a shame. Because I can go shopping pretty much anywhere.

In other words, Myrtle Beach is no longer a destination for the "regular folks" but is now a destination point for those who do the big-wheeling. The fellows who play golf and their wives who need shopping as a diversion. The rest of us? Eh. Who cares.

Anyway, our room was pleasant enough. It had two TVs, a couch, table, king-sized bed, full-size refrigerator, stove, microwave, three sinks, bathroom, closet, little vanity/dressing area. It was a nice-sized room for two people.




The place was a little short of amenities - no coffee for the coffee pot - but we bring our own stuff anyway (except for coffee, we had to buy that) so it did not really matter. I suspect this is the way of hotel-staying in the future, fewer little touches.

Our motel is a three-star and very nice. After our adventure in 2001 at its former self, I was much relieved.

Monday brought rain, a herald of the week. Unfortunately we saw very little sunshine as the beach sky stayed overcast and cloudy much of the time we were there. The temperatures never strayed above the low 80s and for much of the time we sat on the beach, I huddled under an extra towel for warmth. The winds blew cool and hard, sending my book pages turning if I loosened my grip on the novel.



Unfortunately, a good deal of the time, the beach looked sad and wet.

Prologue

In 2001, my husband and I ventured to Myrtle Beach for vacation around the end of August. We opted that year to try a new place for us, and so chose the Pan American.

The year before we had driven around and looked at various motels from the outside, though we did not go in any of them. We liked the Pan American at the time because it sat with only three or four other motels in the midst of a residential area. It didn't look like it would be too crowded.

So when the time came for vacation the following year, we booked there.

For those who may not know, there are three "cities" along the beach that stretches from the North Carolina line down to the middle of the South Carolina coast. North Myrtle Beach is one, and it is where we usually stay. It has fewer hotels, less people, and not as many things to do. Myrtle Beach is about 8 miles down the road from North Myrtle Beach. It is full of motels, night clubs, shopping centers, golf courses, etc., and we just drive down there to experience all there is to see and do. And then there is Atlantic Beach, which is in between North Myrtle Beach and Myrtle Beach. It's kind of a no-man's land, although it is being spruced up in some quarters. I have been told that during segregation this was the black beach, though I do not know that for certain.

Anyway, the Pan American was in northern Myrtle Beach (as opposed to North Myrtle Beach) so it was a different location for us.

Unfortunately, the timing of the trip coincided with the first anniversary of my mother's death. I was an emotional wreck, and quite stressed. The hotel, which didn't look too bad on the outside, turned out to be terrible. I have a nose for molds and mildew and some places simply take my breath away as soon as I walk into them, thanks to my allergies and asthma. This motel was one. From the lobby to the room, it stank.

We bought air freshener and bleach but it wasn't enough. There were also cockroaches in the room. My sinuses erupted and by Tuesday night I was having chest pains from the stress of trying to be in such a hostile environment at the place where I have strong memories of my mother (my family has always vacationed at Myrtle Beach). I sobbed into my husband's shoulder and begged him to take me home. Our week-long stay ended very early that year.

We count that as one of our worst vacations.

Cut now to Sunday, August 30, 2009. Yep, last Sunday we left good ol' Botetourt and headed for Myrtle Beach.

We hadn't planned on a vacation but in July my poor husband, hard working and tired, told me he really needed some time away. So I hunted up an email I'd received about great rates at Myrtle Beach. One of the places advertised was in northern Myrtle Beach, not North Myrtle Beach, but the rates were great. Less than $100 for an ocean-front efficiency room with a king-sized bed. The place also rated well at tripadvisor.com.

After the usual 7-hour drive down (we stop a lot), we pulled into our motel. The area looked familiar but we've been to Myrtle Beach so many times it all kind of runs together.

We went to check in. My husband forgot his glasses so he left it to me to hand over the credit card and sign for the room.

I looked at the receipt I was signing. On the name of the motel, it also said dba PAN AMERICAN.

My heart lept up into my chest. What had we done?

Just passing through