Do South Magazine: Happy – March 2014

HAPPY MARCH 2014DoSouthMagazine.com

TARNISHED CHARMAfter her father died, Ivy moved back home, and with encouragement from her mom, decided to change career paths. What happened next is a charming story filled with hope, history, and a whole lot of bling.

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IRISH WITH A TWISTGive tradition a twist this St. Patrick’s Day with the Twisted Irish. Your friends will be green with envy.

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DO GOODWhen Steph realized her fortieth birthday was looming, she took action and decided to make it a day filled with forty acts of kindness. It turned into one of the best days of her life.

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THE EDIBLE NESTSpring into action with these bird nest cupcakes in Mason jars. So easy, so adorable, and such a great way to usher in spring.

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EDITOR-IN-CHIEF

Catherine Frederick

MANAGING EDITOR

Marla Cantrell

CREATIVE DIRECTOR

Jeromy Price

CONTRIBUTING WRITERS

Brenda Baskin

Marla Cantrell

Marcus Coker

Rusty Henderson, DVM

Stoney Stamper

Catherine Frederick

Anita Paddock

CONTRIBUTING PHOTOGRAPHERS

Catherine Frederick

Jeromy Price

PROOFREADER

Charity Chambers

PUBLISHER

Read Chair Publishing, LLC

FOLLOW US

ADVERTISING INFORMATIONCatherine Frederick479 / 782 / [email protected]

EDITORIAL INFORMATIONMarla Cantrell479 / 831 / [email protected]

©2014 Read Chair Publishing, LLC. All rights reserved. The opinions contained in Do South are exclusively those of the writers and do not represent those of Read Chair Publishing, LLC. as a whole or its affiliates. Any correspondence to Do South or Read Chair Publishing, LLC., including photography becomes the property of Read Chair Publishing, LLC. Do South reserves the right to edit content and images.

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42 56Features

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CONTENTS

D O S O U T H M AG A Z I N E

fort and we sold it. All I could see was barren ground begging

to be planted. It would be a thing of beauty. I sketched it out. It

would even have solar lights and walking paths. We would have

fresh vegetables coming out of our ears.

Then one weekend I went to Little Rock to visit my father and I

came back to a backyard basketball court complete with three

point line. Husband and son who love basketball – 1, Mom and

garden – 0. One of these days my dream will come true. Perhaps

a front yard garden! Is that wrong?

But gardening isn’t the only thing that signals spring. There’s

also St. Patrick’s Day, which is right around the corner. If you’re

wondering how to celebrate, check out the Irish Push-Up recipe

on page 60. Yum!

Easter is soon after, and you’ll want a spectacular table. Check

out our decorating tips, including a centerpiece made with

fresh flowers and egg shells, and our bunny hop table runner!

When you’re through cooking and crafting, check out our story on

Steph Gibson who turned turning forty on its ear by performing

forty acts of kindness. Read “The World’s Greatest Love Story,”

a tale of two people so in love they seemed invincible. Then

read “Tarnished Charm” and find out what happens when you

stop trying to climb the corporate ladder and do exactly what

you love.

All this, plus a new twist on corned beef and cabbage, a drink

that's smooth from start to finish, and tips on some of the best

things to do in the month of March.

Me, I’m going to be planning my garden. No way my neighbor’s

going to have a bigger, better garden than mine! Even if I do

have to take over my own front yard.

To reserve this free space for your charitable non-profit organization, email: [email protected]

Bring on spring! Flowers and green grass. Warm temperatures.

Flip flops. I’ll even take the allergies. I just want to walk the dog

without having to wear my thermals. Now, you don’t need to

remind me of that statement when I am complaining that it

is 101 degrees outside. I live in the now. And right now, I am

starring out my window at the brown earth, save the pine trees

which are bent and broken from the last round of snow and ice.

What I need is some color, some sign of life! I’m ready to lock

away the winter gear and break out the gardening tools. It’s

time for this farm-loving girl to dig in the dirt and put plants

in the ground. I’m keeping my square foot, raised bed garden

this year, just going to switch up the plants a little and try my

hand at vertical gardening. I know it’s not quite time, but my

neighbor told me he’s already planted a bazillion onions, and

since gardening is a little unspoken competition between us

every year, I’ve got to get busy. I don’t like to lose.

I had my sights on a huge garden this year. I’m talking like a 30’ X

20’ area in my backyard. You see, my son outgrew his very large

letter from Catherine 05

Yellow daffodils and lower gas bills,

Baby squirrels and giggling girls,

Half-bloomed roses and sun-kissed noses,

Tender pale green lettuce,

Purple clematis on a trellis,

Fifty gals and laughing fellows,

Red hens and little fuzzy chickens,

Picnics and cookouts with the fixings,

Rambunctious kids running like the dickens.

Each day shares more warmth,

As a burgeoning Earth,

Once again celebrates rebirth.

Serenade to SpringWORDS Dee Ann Ritter

lifestyle 07


Fort Smith, AR 72903479.484.7100

basingeraesthetics.com

Janet NewmanRN, Aesthetic Nurse

Basinger Aesthetics

08 UPCLOSE&PERSONAL


About Basinger Aesthetics Basinger Aesthetics is so much more than an

aesthetic office. It’s full of life and people who care

about each other, and more importantly care about

the integrity and quality of care that we give our

patients. It began more than eight years ago with

the start of Vein Clinics of Arkansas and Dr. Norma

Basinger bringing the most advanced treatment for

varicose and spider veins to this area. It has evolved

into a place where both women and men can go for

aesthetic services, whether it be for those little lines

that bother us every time we look in the mirror, or

things that affect our quality of life, such as scarring,

leg ulcers, or painful varicose veins. I love the fact

that we never stop learning and always stay in the

know of the latest treatment available.

Where is your favorite spot in Arkansas? Anywhere there's a creek and swimming hole.

If you could go back in time, what year would you travel to? I don’t look back, but I suppose it would be interesting to be at my own birth (1970).

If you had to evacuate your house immediately, what is the one thing you would grab on the way out? My family.

Who's the one person who helped make you who you are today? My husband and kids (I can’t pick just one). When you get married and have kids you think you are going to mold them into something perfect and great, but they actually mold you, then you realize how silly you were for thinking you had any control.

What is the nicest thing anyone has ever done for you? Unconditional love.

What is the favorite food from your childhood? Spaghetti.

What is one food that you will not eat? Pig’s feet.

Where was your last road trip? Tulsa, taking my daughter to record a mini album with her voice teacher who was visiting from Italy. How cool is that?

Do you have a nickname? Flutter Fly, AKA Fairy

What is on your playlist right now? Katie Perry, Billy Joel, Sarah Barielles, Michael Buble, Miley Cirus, Faith Hill.

Favorite song from your teen years? Janet Jackson's "Love Will Never Do"

Last movie you saw? Lone Survivor.

Last book you read? My Story by Elizabeth Smart.

Who was your favorite teacher? Mrs. Sheffield at Christ the King.

Best advice you’ve ever been given? If you think the grass in greener on the other side, then you should water your own lawn.

Most sentimental thing you own? My wedding ring.

Strangest place you’ve called the Hogs? Sports bar in Miami.

What’s the best part of your job? That people actually enjoy coming into our office. There is such a good vibe there, it’s so nice seeing people leave smiling, and feeling better than when they came in. And the people I work with, I cannot say enough about how amazing they are at what they do, and how much joy I get from just being around them.

Just keep swimming, just keep swimming.

3 things I can’t do without

— Dori from Finding Nemo

My phone Diet Coke Botox

UPCLOSE&PERSONAL 09


WORDS Stoney StamperIMAGES courtesy Stoney and April Stamper

Don’t Feed the Llamas

10 lifestyle


Change is inevitable. Sometimes, change is easy, and

other times it is very, very hard. It was in 2011 that my

wife, April, and I decided to spend the rest of our lives

together, to combine our families and become one. She had

two daughters, and although I loved them, and they loved me

(mostly), it was still a hard adjustment for all of us to make.

And then, shortly thereafter, I had a great job opportunity

offered to me. The only problem was, the opportunity was in

Texas. After a lot of discussion, worry and debate, we decided

that the job was the best thing for our family. So, that spring I

moved by myself to Tyler, Texas and got the house ready. The

girls finished out their school year in Oklahoma, and then April,

Abby and Emma, fairly reluctantly, became citizens of the state

of Texas, in May.

It was a traumatic thing, moving them away from their home,

their school, their friends and family. And not just for the girls.

April had quite a bit of adjusting to do as well. To top it all off, we

had just learned that she was pregnant. To say that there was a

lot of tension and stress flowing through our little home would

be quite an understatement.

To try and make the move as easy as possible, I was pretty much

willing to do anything or go anywhere, if I thought they might

enjoy it. So when I saw the sign for a nearby safari park, I knew

that it was something that all my animal loving girls would like.

So one hot, muggy Saturday afternoon, we made the thirty mile

drive to this drive-through zoo. I’d been to one of those before,

but not since I was a little kid. And frankly, there were a few

traumatizing events that happened then, too. So, I’m not sure what

it was that made me think that this time would be any different.

However, I was so happy that the girls were finally with me in

Texas, and I wanted to see them laugh and be happy. So, we

checked in at the office. I paid for our tickets, bought us each a

bag of food for the animals, and we made our merry way into

the happy land of goats, deer, deer, goats, a few cows, some

ill-tempered Sicilian donkeys, goats, deer, buffalo, and maybe a

few pigs. And some goats and deer. Seriously, like, it was mostly

goats and deer. Ok, you get it.

Anyhoo, there were also some llamas. Some stupid, sorry, no-

count llamas. And llamas are jerks, you guys. Huge jerks.

As we approached the llama area in my brand new truck, they

quickly perked up, looking in our direction, and then all three of

them came hurriedly towards us at a high lope. The girls oohed

and awed over the cute little llamas. “Oh look at them! They're

so cute! Look at their ears, they’re so big! Look how long their

eyelashes are! Oh, I’m gonna feed them!"

I've always been pretty good at doing different, funny voices,

so I began talking the way I thought a llama would, just saying

silly things that would make the girls laugh. And man, they were

laughing. I felt great. They're having such a fun time, I thought.

They're so happy, I thought. Way to go, Stone, I said to myself.

As the girls began to feed them, it was easy to see that there

was definitely an alpha in the pack. He made a funny hissing

noise that the girls thought was so cute. He pinned his ears

back, and would stick his head through the window to get the

food. Having been around horses all my life, I could tell a ticked

off animal when I saw one. And he definitely was. I told the girls

to be careful. I told them he was about to get ignorant. But no

one listens to me. I’m just their chauffeur. And arm candy.

I rolled my window up when he came around to my side,

because I’m smart. Even with their heckling (mainly April’s) I

would not roll it down.“Girls," I said, "he’s not playing. I’m telling

you, he’s getting ready to throw a fit.” To which April replied,

“Oh, quit being such a baby!" She paid for that silly remark.

Unfortunately, we all had to pay for it with her.

This big llama began to butt his head against my closed window,

yet still no one heeded my warnings. He went around to April’s

lifestyle 11


side, and hissed. Then she gave him some food. He took it, and

hissed again. I said “Roll your window up!" To which she replied,

“He’s just playing!"

And that’s when it happened. He unleashed the most wretched

combination of bodily functions that have ever been combined

on this earth. It was a massive conglomeration of a gassy,

belching cough that was filled with puke, and slimy green goo,

and he topped it off with a hair-raising scream at the end. All of

this, no more than three inches from April’s face.

In an instant, we’d gone from having a blast to one of the worst

days of my life. There was awful green stuff all over everything.

April had her hands over her slime-covered face, and had yet

to make a sound. I blacked out. I do not know what I said, but I

expect it wasn’t PG. I didn’t know if April was laughing, or crying.

And frankly, I don’t think she knew.

The smell was, simply put, unbearable. This horrible green

substance was all over the inside of my windshield, on my dash,

covering my rear view mirror to the point that you could not

see anything in it. My GPS screen, yep, covered. Steering wheel,

check. Sun visors, check. My plaid khaki golf shorts? Slimed. My

face, my neck, my ears. Everywhere.

All this time, April had yet to look out from her hands. The girls

were in the backseat, laughing as if they have just witnessed

the funniest thing that has ever happened, and the cab of the

truck could not have smelled worse even if the llama had done

what he had done inside the cab. April uncovered her face,

and I couldn't really get a grasp of her emotions. She definitely

wanted to cry. But she also knew that this was pretty funny. Her

hair was just mangled in this stuff that came out of the llama.

And the truck looked like a bomb went off inside of it.

Well, here was our main problem. We couldn’t get out o! I’ve

never had to fight the urge to jump out of my truck so bad.

But we're surrounded by llamas. Ticked off llamas. I began to

drive away, and they followed us. They kept coming and they

wouldn’t leave us alone. I drove faster. They ran faster. We were

bouncing around the cab as I drove forty miles an hour across

a pasture. I felt like I should be singing Chitty Chitty Bang Bang.

But we finally get rid of them. We were free! I bailed out of

the truck, wiping this awful mess off of my body. I don’t think I

could've felt dirtier if I’d been that guy that fell in the state park

port-a-potty, trying to get his wallet. It was awful. The girls were

still laughing. April was still getting her wits about her, trying to

decide just exactly how upset she actually was. My new truck

had been defiled. And I was already making plans in my head

to trade it off.

So, as we were leaving, we noticed another car pulling into the

llama area. We watched those crazy animals take advantage of

another unsuspecting family. And then we laughed and laughed.

It was such a long drive home. The smell was something I’ll

never ever get out of my head.

And that's the story of our first Family Day. Starting out, I wanted

a fun, memorable day that the girls would never forget. And I

promise you, none of us ever will.

Stoney Stamperis the author of the popular parenting blog, The Daddy Diaries. He and his wife April

have three daughters: Abby, Emma and Gracee. Originally from northeast Oklahoma,

the Stampers now live in Tyler, Texas. For your daily dose of The Daddy Diaries, visit

Stoney on Facebook or on his website, thedaddydiaries.net.

12 lifestyle



Clinton

Hogan

Rainy

Pebbles

Harley

Bullet

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Rescue a RescuePoteau Pound Pups is run completely by volunteers and operates solely on public donations.

For more adoption information, please contact one the numbers listed below.

Poteau Pound Pups is a foster-only rescue, so there is no facility. All animals are currently in foster homes being socialized and cared for by loving families. All animals are spayed or neutered, up-to-date on vaccinations, and heartworm negative.

PoteauPoundPups.org

PoteauPoundPups

[email protected]

Angela Meek 479.883.2240 Mitzi Burkhart 479.651.4445 Cheryl Greenmyer 918.471.8514

Donations are always needed and greatly appreciated.

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Let’s take a look at why dogs chew so much, what to do when they chew something they shouldn’t, like shoes or furniture, and what you can do to redirect your furry friends.

Information contained in this article should not be construed as specific medical advice for your pet. If you have a concern about your pet, contact your veterinarian.

Communication: Puppies chew to communicate with their environment. For the first six weeks of their life they use their mouth and nose to find mom and fill their bellies. Puppies will chew when they’re teething. This is a natural mannerism to help remove those baby teeth. This behavior will stop generally around five to six months of age. Some dogs may continue this as a puppy trait until eighteen months. Age and breed appropriate chew toys are often an easy remedy to this action.

Anxiety: Anxiety will induce some serious chewing. I once had the best Irish Setter to grace this earth. A perfect dog in many ways yet, on the night of the Great Fort Smith/Van Buren Tornado in April, 1996, she chewed the leg of a table into sawdust, while we slept.

Boredom: Boredom is another common reason for our canine friends to pick up the chewing habit, and this is true for both puppies and adult dogs. Chewing, especially in adult dogs, is a sign of pent up energy.

Remedies: Offer several appropriate and safe toys. Keep items you deem sacred out of harm’s way. Reward good habits rapidly and often. On the other hand, discourage bad habits only when you witness the crime, never after the crime has occurred. A good solid “NO!” should get the message across. If your furniture is taking a beating and verbal commands aren’t doing the trick, try wrapping chair and table legs with aluminum foil. You can also apply chili pepper, or vinegar solutions to the item being chewed. The odor will be offensive to your dog and can discourage chewing. Antiperspirants such as Arid Extra Dry will deter chewing without damage to your furniture. If you suspect separation anxiety, minimize interaction with your dog a half hour before you leave the house, and do the same for the first half hour after you return. This helps Fido stay calm and cut down on the excitement and anxiety when you leave and return. Lastly, if you suspect your dog is bored, go for a walk! Exercise and attention are both excellent remedies for bored puppies and dogs that chew.

Have a question you’d like to see answered here? Email it to [email protected].

Why Dogs ChewWords Dr. Rusty Henderson, D.V.M. Eastside Animal Clinic

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Canoe/Kayak Program

12th Annual Grape Escapes

Dancing with the Stars of Northwest Arkansas

Devil’s Den’s School’s Out, Park’s Are In

Saturdays from March 1 - November // Noon – 2 // Free

March 7 // 6PM // $100

March 8 // 6:30pm – 11pm // See website for details

March 21 - 29 // Call for details

Go canoeing or kayaking at the Nature Center at 8300 Wells Lake Road. Available every Saturday from March through November, weather permitting. A parent or guardian must accompany children. The center even provides life jackets and instructions, to make learning that much easier.

Bost invites you to a night of great wine, live auctions, entertainment and unbelievable door prizes at the 12th Annual Grape Escapes. This charitable event features samplings of over 350 wines from around the world and tastings from 13 area restaurants and caterers. The event will be held at the Epic Center by MovieLounge in Fort Smith.

You’re invited to the 7th Annual Dancing with the Stars of NWA event. The night features dinner, silent and live auctions, and, of course, dancing. Five local executives will perform with their talented dance partners to raise funds for the Amazeum children’s learning center. The event will be held in the John Q. Hammons Center in Rogers.

Looking for a cure for spring fever? Take your kids and head out to Devil’s Den State Park. All week, there will be nature programs, hikes, games, and crafts. Many are free, but a few require reservations and a small fee. Call for details.

Fort Smith, AR // 479.452.3993 // rivervalleynaturecenter.com

Fort Smith, AR // 479.478.5554 // bost.org

Rogers, AR // 479.696.9280 // amazeum.org

West Fork, AR // 479.761.3325 // arkansasstateparks.com

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16 entertainment


Spring Fling at Heifer Village

Iron Pig Festival

Women’s Backpacking Clinic (Beginners)

6th Annual Fort Smith Heritage Festival

March 24 - 29 // 10 – 4 // Free

March 22 // See website for details

March 22 - 23 // $40 // See website for details

April 5 // See website for details

Want a fun leaning experience this spring break? Kids will get to create their own “sheep” craft to take home and learn how animals provide materials like wool that can be made into gloves, scarves, and blankets. They’ll also see a bee hive, try on beekeeping suits, and create pollination mobiles to take home.

Make your way to Drake Field in Fayetteville for the Iron Pig Festival. This is a 4-in-1 event that features a duathlon, 5K run, 1 mile fun run/walk, and bike time trial. This is a great way to kickoff the race season for athletes ready to work out that cabin fever. This event will take place in front of the Fayetteville Executive Airport.

Hosted by the Pack Rat Outdoor Center and designed with the beginner in mind, this clinic equips any outdoors enthusiast with various backcountry skills like meal preparation, fire-starting, clothing/footwear, water filtration and much more. The outings take place on sections of the Ozark Highlands Trail and range from 5 – 10 miles a day. Contact the Pack Rat Outdoor Center for more information.

Celebrate Fort Smith’s history at the 2014 Heritage Festival. The event is free and will include free trolley rides of the Heritage Trail, Old West action, wagon rides, a petting zoo, the Choctaw Youth Dancers, live music and food! The Heritage Festival benefits the Meals for Kids program to help feed local children through the summer. The festival will take place in Downtown Fort Smith.

Little Rock, AR // 501.907.2697 // heifer.org

Fayetteville, AR // 479.571.8786 // ironpigfestival.com

Fayetteville, AR // 479.521.6340 // packratoc.com/events

Fort Smith, AR // 479.782.5074 // csclearinghouse.org

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entertainment 17


I think most Grisham fans will be delighted with this new

book by one of the greatest courtroom storytellers in the

South. Sycamore Row takes place in the same town in

Mississippi as John Grisham’s first book, A Time to Kill, which

is one of his finest. In that novel, Jake Brigance, a young lawyer

fresh out of law school, defends a black man who’s accused of

murdering a white man who raped his daughter. Jake won the

case and received national fame, but he only made

$900, his home was burned down by the Klan, and his dog was

killed in the fire.

Sycamore Row begins three years later in 1988 with the suicide

of Seth Hubbard, a reclusive landowner and twice divorced

cantankerous old man who’s dying of cancer. He hangs himself

from an ancient sycamore tree on timber land his family got

back in the 1930s by unscrupulous means.

Seth mailed a letter and a hand-written will to Jake Brigance,

which was to arrive on the Monday morning following his death

on Sunday night.

Seth instructs Jake to make sure that his will is probated

carefully and that his children and grandchildren are to get

nothing. His brother, if he can be found, will get a percentage,

but the bulk of it will go to his black housekeeper, Lettie Lang.

Jake will be the attorney handling Seth’s affairs, and he will be

paid out of the estate, which is worth around 26 million dollars.

Jake knows the children and grandchildren were left everything

in an earlier will that was drafted by a big shot Memphis firm.

He knows there will be trouble, and there certainly is, with a

bus load of lawyers representing the Hubbard family and the

relatives of Lettie Lang, who suddenly have taken an interest in

their poor cousin with the no-good husband.

Jake and his family are living in a small rental, awaiting an

insurance claim to be settled on their torched home. This

Hubbard case will bring a nice monthly paycheck, and Jake is

happy about that, but he’s not prepared to deal with the turmoil

and racial hatred that follows. He does have legal help from

Harry Rex and Lucien, two intelligent drunks whom fans will

remember from A Time to Kill.

It’s a real page-turner, and one I recommend for the sheer

pleasure of reading a well-told story of a small town lawyer in

Mississippi who takes on the big city law firms.

By John GrishamRandom House : $2895

Sycamore Row

review Anita Paddock

18 entertainment


iTunes: $297

lennonandmaisy.com

Lennon and Maisy

review Marla Cantrell

Singing sensations Lennon and Maisy Stella were born in

Canada, but Nashville is their home. Not just the city, but

the ABC drama Nashville as well. It is there the two young

singers play the daughters of the show's lead star, Connie Britton.

What catapulted Lennon (fourteen) and Maisy (nine) to

stardom was their massive YouTube following, particularly

their cover song of Robyn’s “Call Your Girlfriend.” In it, the

two sing perfect harmony, sitting together at a table, with no

musical accompaniment except their own hands clapping, and

intermittently using what looks like empty butter containers

more or less as drumsticks. It is such a pure setup for their

immaculate voices, with Lennon singing melody and Maisy

picking up harmony. To date, that video has been watched

more than 22 million times. Soon, national news agencies were

tracking the girls down for interviews, and not long after, the two

got a gig at the famed Bluebird Café in Nashville. A customer

there taped the whole thing, posted it online, and before long

the producers of Nashville came calling.

If you’ve not heard these sisters, a quick visit to YouTube will

remedy that. There, you’ll hear them sing hits like the “Ho Hey,”

a song made famous by the Lumineers. Then check out iTunes,

where three of their songs: “Call Your Girlfriend,” “I Won’t Give

Up” and “Headlock” are sold as a package for $2.97. And finally,

check out The Music of Nashville: Season 2 Volume 1. On it,

Lennon and Maisy sing two of the thirteen songs.

And while Lennon and Maisy don’t have an album of their own

yet, it’s bound to happen soon. If you listen to them without

knowing their ages, you’d never believe these voices belonged

to two girls this young. They’re extraordinarily talented, and

their mother says she knew they were destined for stardom, she

just didn’t expect it so soon.

The sisters spent their earliest years on a 170 acre plot of

farmland, without a TV or internet access. Their parents, Brad

and Marylynne Stella, performed as The Stellas, singing vintage

country, with quite a following themselves. The family’s home

was filled with vinyl records, and the girls listened to a lot of

Roger Miller and Marty Robbins. It paid off. Just last year, the

girls performed at the Grand Ole Opry.

It is going to be fun to see where these two end up. Several TV

critics claim the girls are the highlight of Nashville, and when

they’re allowed to sing you’ll see why. Theirs is a rare talent, so

rich, so soulful, it’s hard to forget them.

I Rate It

20 entertainment


The Edible Nest

Chocolate Easter bunnies are a must for the kiddos, but adults need a sweet treat too. Whether you give these as a gift, use them as edible table décor, placeholders for your Easter meal, or simply bake them up because they’re so darn cute, you can’t go wrong with these adorable, edible nests.

MethodPreheat oven to 350°. Place 24 cupcake liners into muffin tins. Combine one box white cake mix, three egg whites, 1 ¼ cups buttermilk, 2 Tablespoons vegetable oil, and 1 teaspoon lemon extract in a mixing bowl. Beat with electric mixer until combined, then mix on medium speed for 2 minutes. Pour mixture into cupcake liners and bake for 16 - 18 minutes, or until a toothpick comes out clean. Do not over bake. Let cool completely. Spread (1) 6oz package of shredded coconut onto a cookie sheet and toast until lightly brown, stirring occasionally, about 10 minutes. Let cool completely.

AssemblyPlace one unwrapped cupcake upside down into each of the (8) half-pint Mason jars. Top with one Tablespoon of store bought lemon curd, spread to cover cupcake. Place (1) 16oz container of cream cheese frosting into a piping bag or a double lined Ziploc® bag with the corner cut about ¼” from end. Pipe frosting on top of lemon curd. Spread to cover cream cheese. Top with 1 Tablespoon toasted coconut. Add another unwrapped cupcake, right side up. Top with 1 Tablespoon of apricot-pineapple preserves (from a 16oz jar). Spread to cover. Pipe another layer of frosting to cover preserves and to form a slight mound. Press toasted coconut into frosting to make a nest by pushing in the center of the frosting with your thumb, creating an indention. Cover frosting with coconut completely. Add three candy coated blue eggs in the center. Repeat for each jar. Makes 8.

WORDS Catherine Frederickimages Jeromy Price

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EggstraordinarilyBeautiful

Welcome spring with beautiful flowers in unique containers – eggs! Make one egg and place it on a single egg cup for use as a place setting, or make several and use them as a centerpiece for a bright, beautiful pop of color.

MethodGather 12 eggs and crack away the top of each egg. Open the top of the shell enough for the contents to come out. Rinse out each shell. Using tweezers, remove as much of the inner eggshell membrane as you can. Rinse the egg out again. Cut flowers of choice 3-4” from the stem. Fill eggshell with a bit of water and place into container of choice. Fill each shell with a flower and display.

words Catherine Frederickimages Jeromy Price

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Peter Cotton TailHere comes Peter Cotton Tail, hopping right across your table! But don’t worry, he won’t eat much, and even though he’s chocolate brown, he won’t melt. What he will do is grace your Easter table in the cutest way possible!

MethodPurchase burlap table runner (much easier as the edges are already hemmed and will not fray). Print out bunny silhouette from the URL below (tip: print out as many bunnies as you will place on the runner – makes it easier to space them out). Place paper under runner so paint doesn’t seep through. Space silhouettes onto runner, then using a brown Sharpie®, trace around each silhouette. If your runner falls over the ends of your table, you may want to turn the silhouette on each end of the runner so the bunny is sitting horizontally and not vertically. Using brown acrylic craft paint, paint the bunnies. Let dry completely. While paint is drying, create pom-poms for the tails. For pom-pom making instructions, visit our website at DoSouthMagazine.com. Once paint is dry, attach pom-poms for tails with craft glue or a glue gun.

Bunny Silhouette: www.openclipart.org/detail/116629/1296480840

words Catherine Frederickimage Jeromy Price

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S T E P H G I B S O Nwords Marla CantrellImages Jeromy Price and courtesty Steph Gibson

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On January 28, 2014, Steph Gibson turned forty. Several things

happened in the weeks leading up to her big day. She’d been

on Pinterest, and she’d come across a few posts about random

acts of kindness. There were lists of things you could do, simple

things to brighten someone else’s day, and the lists sparked

something in Steph. She started thinking about her husband,

who was likely struggling with a plan to make her birthday

spectacular. What pressure, she thought, for this man she loved

so much.

Then she read a novel called Wonder. The book touched her

deeply, and two of the lines kept coming back to her. Our deeds

are our monuments, and Whenever you have the choice of being

right or being kind, be kind. “And that thought, choose to be kind,

just stayed with me,” Steph says.

So she decided. She would perform forty acts of kindness,

beginning on her birthday. Instead of expecting flowers and

gifts, she would touch the lives of forty people, some she knew

and others she’d never met.

This mother of four couldn’t believe how much fun the planning

was. She, with the help of her sister, made a list. Steph’s oldest

daughter printed labels that read: Today is my fortieth birthday.

I’m celebrating by making other people smile. With the plan in

place, Steph waited impatiently for the day to arrive.

“When we got up that morning, I put on some really loud dance

music and my kids and I were singing and dancing, which wasn’t

typical for me. And my husband walked in and smiled and shook

his head. He said, ‘This is who I married.’ We were all so happy.”

Her first stop was supposed to be at a construction site near her

Fort Smith, Arkansas home, where she’d seen the workers for

weeks on end, huddled around a trash barrel turned outdoor

fire pit, trying to get warm. She bought donuts and hand

warmers they could put inside their gloves. It was before six in

the morning when she arrived, but the workers had been sent

to another job.

It was a small setback. Later in the day, she found another group

of construction workers, equally cold, equally hungry, who were

awed by Steph’s kindness. She and her sister went to Garrison

Avenue, and dropped quarters in the parking meters in front

of the water department. She went to Sonic and bought $5

gift cards that she then taped above several speakers, so that

people pulling in to order would get a sweet surprise.

There is a man named Stanley who works at Chick-Fil-A, who

always has a kind word, and Steph baked him one of her much-

loved homemade, giant chocolate chip cookies and took it to

him. She drove to the 188th Fighter Wing, where her husband

works, and stopped at the security station. “They miss a lot

of the fun stuff that goes on because they have to stay in the

booth to make sure everything’s secure. So I made one of my

giant cookies and took it to them.”

Steph found a Redbox machine, and taped a package of

microwave popcorn to it, so that the next person renting a movie

would see it. She went to Lin’s Garden Chinese Restaurant and

left quarters in the candy machines. She bought lunch for a

friend; she took more flowers to the hospital and left them at

the nurses’ station, so they could find just the right patient to

give them to. She delivered bouquets to two women from her

church, because Steph said they do so much for others. But

the most touching moment came when she arrived at the main

branch of the Fort Smith Library for the children’s story hour.

She carried forty balloons with her, and waited for the librarian

to finish reading. She stepped into the room, handed out the

balloons, and talked to them about Leslie Creekmore, a twenty-

nine-year-old woman who worked at the library, was twenty

weeks pregnant, and in January contracted the H1N1 strain of

the flu that became double pneumonia. Leslie lost the baby,

and was being treated at Barnes-Jewish Hospital in St. Louis.

Her husband, Chris, never left her side. Sadly, Leslie passed

away on February 10.

But on that day, Steph and thousands of others were praying

for a miracle, and staying connected through a Facebook page

called Love for Leslie. Steph and her children knew Leslie from

their frequent visits to the library, and wanted to find a way to

show this young woman how much she was cared about. So,

after handing out the balloons, she asked the kids to remember

to pray for her.

As the day rolled on, Steph found more and more people to help.

Some of what she did was simple. She started a conversation

with a woman in an elevator, and learned the woman had

cancer, and needed someone to talk to. She opened doors for

people. She found a woman pumping gas and handed her one

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of her Sonic gift cards. But there were other things, like making

dinner for the firefighters stationed closest to her house that

took time and planning and effort.

Steph thought about her oldest friends, women she’d met when

she lived in Michigan, who were now scattered across the U.S.

“Vegas, Utah, New Jersey, St. Louis. I sent them a message and

told them I’d love for them to come to Arkansas but I knew they

couldn’t. I said I wanted them to do acts of kindness in my honor

on my birthday. So all through the day I’d get texts from them.

My friend in New Jersey is awesome. She said she was doing the

best she could, but the people there were skeptical and thought

she was out to get them. She ended up giving a free Zumba

lesson to one of her students, who was having a hard time.”

And so, all through the day and the following two days that it

took Steph to finish her list, momentum built. She is humbled by

what this project brought, and she understands what kindness

means in a world where we’re so often bombarded by what is

bad and what can’t be fixed and what brings us sorrow.

Her last act on her birthday was taking flowers to a neighbor

who is widowed. “I didn’t really know Maxine. I’d only met

her when I was out walking, and I’d stop and say hi. She’s the

sweetest lady. I took my kids with me, so they could feel what

it feels like to have someone smile so big and say, ‘You thought

of me?’”

Looking back, her fortieth birthday was a kind of miracle. “I had

a huge smile all day long. It was better than anything anybody

could have done for me. Other than my wedding day, the birth

of my children, and the day I was baptized into the church, it

was the best day of my life.”

Steph is sitting near a window where sunshine pours in, and the

light dances off her silver earrings. “One act of kindness paid

forward can change people’s lives,” she says. “It can change

how a community sees each other, and treats each other. The

results are boundless.”

It is a great thing to ponder. If each of us reached out to someone

every day and tried to make their journey a little brighter, who

knows what a dazzling world this could be.

Each month, DoSouth Magazine will feature the story

of someone in our community who is making the

world a better place. If you have someone you’d like

to nominate for our Do Gooder Award, email editors@

dosouthmagazine.com.

28 people


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31


G O G R E E N

Eat the Beanwords Marcus Cokerimage courtesy City of Mulberry

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Everyone knows that oranges come from Florida, and apples from Washington. But here’s a question: Where does

the vegetable edamame (pronounced e-də-'mä-mā) come from?

If you said, “Mulberry, Arkansas,” you’re on the right track.

Edamame means “beans on a branch,” and is an immature

soybean, which means that it’s picked early. For centuries, it’s

been a staple food in Asian countries and was first introduced

in the United States in Japanese restaurants as a snack food

eaten with Sake or beer. Over the last

ten years, it’s grown in popularity in

the United States, with Americans

consuming 25 to 30 thousand tons

of edamame annually. Ninety-eight

percent of that total is imported,

with ninety-five percent coming

from China.

Those numbers, however, don’t

account for American Vegetable

Soybean & Edamame, Inc. (AVS). AVS

is an edamame processing plant that

opened in Mulberry in 2012. The

plant is unique not only because it’s

processing edamame in the United

States, but also because it’s the only

facility in the United States that’s

dedicated solely to edamame.

AVS is owned and operated by the

family of Dr. Gene Chung, who has

been in the food business for over thirty years and importing

and distributing edamame from other countries since 2004.

Aware of consumers’ concerns about food safety issues in China

and their desire to bring jobs back to the United States, Gene

and his family decided to start growing edamame themselves.

Arkansas, which produces 3.2 million acres of soybeans

annually, turned out to be the perfect place to do so.

“We had met a contact in Arkansas who really helped us think

about how to do edamame in the United States. After a while,

we realized the missing link was having a processing facility,”

says Ray Chung, Gene’s son and chief financial officer of AVS.

“It’s worked out well, and we’ve been very impressed with

the infrastructure and how efficient everything is in the state.

Plus, although we don’t have any scientific evidence, we just

know our Arkansas edamame tastes better. I suspect it may be

because the land in China has been farmed for centuries, so it’s

most likely been depleted.”

With Arkansas being the tenth largest producer of soybeans in

the country, AVS had an easy time finding growers for edamame.

Ray says, “All of our growers have very strict guidelines that we

follow, as all of our products are verified as non-genetically

modified. Additionally, they are organic, which means only

approved chemicals and pesticides

are used.”

The venture has been good for AVS, but

it’s also been good for Mulberry and

its 1,655 residents. When the plant

first opened, the city hosted a job fair

for those interested in employment at

AVS. Initially the company hired forty

employees, but currently has about a

hundred. “We only expected twenty-

five people to show up, but they were

lined up down the street. There were

150 applicants that day,” says Mayor

Gary Baxter.

“The AVS facility cost 11 million

dollars, and that brings a lot of value

to the community,” says Mayor Baxter.

“When the company first approached

us, there was talk about tax breaks

for them to come to Mulberry. But the owners said, ‘We’re not

even going to go there. We want to pay the taxes to support

the community and the schools.’ So there are the jobs and the

property taxes, but there are also a lot of peripheral benefits,

like the products bought locally used in construction and the

fuel and water used on a regular basis. It’s all very positive.”

The edamame that AVS produces is planted in spring and

harvested in summer at the peak of ripening, before hardening

time. First, the pods are washed by machine and “de-haired.”

Then they are cooked with hot water (194 to 203 degrees

Fahrenheit) for 80 to 100 seconds and sent to a blast freezer

for quick freezing. This process is called blanching. Ray says, “It

people 33


has to be processed quickly because soybeans have an enzyme

that will break down the product and cause it to spoil. With every

hour that passes, the sweetness decreases if you don’t blanch it.”

The final step is that the edamame is packaged for consumption.

“Our Imperial brand product, which is simply packaged

edamame, is sold at Sam’s Club and comes from our Arkansas

crop. AVS also packages our other product, Cruncha Ma-Me, and

we’re making the switch so that it will come from our Arkansas

crop as well,” says Ray.

“Cruncha Ma-Me is a snack we make with fresh edamame that’s

been freeze-dried. (Freeze-drying involves a vacuum chamber

that causes water to flash straight into a vapor.) Most snacks

are baked or fried or roasted, and the high temperatures kill the

nutrients. Freeze-drying, on the other hand, is a good way of

preserving nutrients and flavor. Think about food for astronauts.

It’s great for kids because it’s tasty, high in protein, and more

portable than regular edamame. It comes in a variety of flavors

and can be purchased through Amazon.com.”

Edamame can be eaten by itself as a finger food, but it can also

be used as an ingredient for soups, salads, or vegetable dishes.

Similar to large green beans, edamame beans come in a pod,

which can be snapped open to remove the beans for eating.

Most people add salt to the beans, and AVS packages their

products with sea salt packets for those who wish to use them.

The beans are about forty percent protein, high in fiber, and low

in fat. They have about 189 calories per cup. “I’d never eaten

edamame until I heard that AVS was interested in coming to

Mulberry,” says Mayor Baxter. “Then I tried it as an appetizer at a

restaurant and really liked it. We’ve started calling Mulberry the

edamame capital of the United States.”

With AVS planning to expand its already 33,000 square foot

facility by fifty percent, Arkansas is quickly on its way to

becoming a top edamame producer. As consumers, we benefit

from a great-tasting product that’s good for us and is practically

grown in our own backyards. Ray says, “More and more people

are becoming concerned about where their food is coming

from. Traditionally, we’ve had a very industrial food supply

chain where people didn’t know where their food was coming

from. But people are starting to understand the different issues

like genetic modification that arise from that chain. It’s really

important to many parents with young kids. Plus, we’re bringing

jobs back to the United States, and I love that we can support

the community and provide jobs to local residents.”

It’s no small thing – providing a healthy, organic product that’s

made in the United States. And just as the individual benefits,

so does the community of Mulberry and the state. Because just

like Florida has oranges, and Idaho has potatoes, Arkansas now

has edamame, and that’s something not only to eat, but also to

be proud of.

On Saturday, March 29, 2014, the City of Mulberry and

AVS will be hosting the First Annual Edamame Festival

at the Mulberry City Park. The event is free to attend

and will last from 10 AM to 5 PM, rain or shine.

The festival will include a variety of vendors, a

bounce-around, an antique car show, live music by

Bill Rogers and others, a pageant for young children,

a three-on-three basketball tournament, a disc golf

tournament, and helicopter rides.

AVS will provide edamame and Cruncha Ma-Me for

sampling, as well as other delights like edamame

salsa and edamame guacamole.

Mulberry City Park

419 Mulberry Highway 64 West

Mulberry, Arkansas 72947

For more information, including information for new

vendors, check out Mulberry City Limits on Facebook,

or contact the mayor’s office at 479.997.1321 or

[email protected].

34 people


35

We’re all about making life simpler. Try these household

tricks to save time and money. You can thank us later.

Color Coated

Don’t waste your money on fancy keys or

key covers to identify which key goes to

what. Break out some fingernail polish and

coat the top portion of the key, on both

sides. Place on a hard surface with the top

portion hanging over the edge and allow to

dry completely.

WORDS Catherine Frederickimage Jeromy Price

36


Sliced Tomatoes

What’s easier than slicing through a cherry

tomato? Slicing through fifteen at once. Place

cherry tomatoes on the top of a plastic lid, then

place another plastic lid, top side down, on top of

the tomatoes. Holding the top lid in place, run a

long, sharp knife through them horizontally, all at

once. Viola!

Hair Removal

Pet hair everywhere? In a rush and no time to

break out the vacuum or waste strips from the

sticky roller? Grab a squeegee and rake it across

your furniture or carpet. The pet hair will be

removed with ease. Don’t try this on your cat. Trust

us, it doesn’t work.

37


A cold wind is blowing when I leave the warmth of my car and walk up the sidewalk

to the front door of an artist I’ve long admired. Kay Morgan Aclin is an award

winning watercolorist whom I’ve known since we were young mothers, traveling

the state, taking our children to tennis tournaments. In those days, I had no idea of her

artistic skills.

Kay answers the door, smiling that beautiful wide smile of hers I recall so well. Dressed

in jeans and a red sweater, with her blonde hair pulled back in a ponytail, no one would

believe she has children in their early fifties. We sit at her kitchen table, reminiscing about

the good old days of sitting in lawn chairs, sweltering under a summer sun, watching our

kids on the court.

The Life and Art of Kay Aclin

WORDS Anita Paddockimage courtesy Kay Aclin and Jeromy Price

38 people


Kay has lived in Fort Smith, Arkansas since 1971, arriving

here with her husband, Dick, who is still practicing pediatric

medicine. They both grew up in Hot Springs, and they married

in 1961 while he was still in medical school.

Deeply rooted in Arkansas, her maternal grandfather owned a

cigar store on Spencer’s Corner in Hot Springs, where the Blue

Moon Art Gallery now sits, and where Kay is the featured artist

for this month.

“Our family was surrounded by art,” Kay says. “My mother

was years ahead of her time as an artist. She was fashioning

twigs and dried flowers into art pieces long before they were

being sold in little exclusive gift shops.” Always encouraging

her daughters with praise and devoted interest, her mother

remained instrumental in their developing talent. She and her

mother’s pals are often the subject of Kay’s watercolors.

Kay and her sister, Carol, who at age twelve was the youngest

member of the Artist Society of Hot Springs, began drawing as

children. “That was fun for us,” Kay says. “We’d sprawl across

the front porch with our papers and pencils and crayons and

be perfectly happy. I guess I thought everybody could draw

because I never felt like I had any kind of special gift,” she

remembers. “It was just a part of me. I also loved to dance, and

I took lessons in ballet.”

After her husband graduated from med school in 1963, he was

stationed with the Air Force in Biloxi, Mississippi. Kay taught at

a local art center. “I taught Folk Art and also sold gift items such

as boxes and note cards at gift shops that catered to tourists.

I was happy to sell my artwork, but I always counted myself

blessed that I didn’t have to depend on it as a sole means of

support. I’ve been very, very lucky.”

At first, Kay painted in both oils and watercolors. “I discovered

that I liked watercolors better, and that it was hard to jump back

and forth. I liked the spontaneity of watercolors, its looseness.”

She likes a variety of subjects, including landscapes and figures.

Only recently, Kay has found an interest in abstracts that have

ultimately brought her joy and a new circle of admirers.

Her work has been hailed as spontaneous and diverse, with

exciting contrasts and colors. As a member of the National

Women in the Arts and Mid-Southern Watercolor Society, her

work is in permanent collections at the Arkansas Art Center

in Little Rock as well as RAM, the Regional Art Museum in Fort

Smith. Her art has been exhibited in the Governor’s Mansion

and featured in a book celebrating Arkansas authors.

Kay has passed on her love of art to her grandchildren. As soon

as they arrive for visits, they want to go upstairs to her studio.

They have their own areas to work in, and they are careful to not

intrude in their grandmother’s space. In 2005, grandchildren

Katherine, Sarah, and William Aclin had their own showings at

the Center for Art and Education in Van Buren. They prepared

their artist statements, with then eight-year-old William saying

he “loved to see his accidents turn into surprises.” Eleven-year-

old Katherine said “art was freedom for her imagination,” and

Sarah, nine, thought of “art as an adventure.”

Kay finds happiness in teaching art, particularly to children,

whether it’s on an art excursion to the Janet Huckabee Nature

Center or teaching in a summer art camp. She recently presented

a watercolor portrait to Fort Smith’s Ballman Elementary,

depicting schoolchildren sitting in a circle with books in their

laps. “It was so much fun,” Kay says, “watching those children

picking out which child looked the most like him or her. I think

it’s essential to introduce children to the arts. The more they

see, the more they will say, ‘I can do that, too.’”

Kay Aclin

people 39


My personal favorite is the one that hangs over my fireplace,

depicting a woman in a library surrounded by books. Kay gave

me that picture during a sad part of my life, and it has always

brought me happiness, which is what art should do.

Kay’s favorite quote is one by Einstein that says “Creativity is

intelligence having fun.”

She believes an artist must be aware and willing to experiment.

She talks about a group of artists on a bus tour while traveling

in Italy. It was raining when they arrived at a village church, and

only four people were willing to risk braving the downpour. The

priest saw them and took them on a special tour up into the

floors where tourists had not been allowed. He showed them

works of art that were hundreds of years old and had never

been seen on public display.

Kay smiles her biggest, her best. “I was one of those tourists,

and the moral to that story is something every artist should

heed,” she explains. “Don’t be afraid to get out in the rain.”

Kay is the featured artist for March at the Blue Moon

Gallery, located at 718 Central Avenue in Hot Springs.

Visit their website bluemoonartgallery.com.

40 people


Tarnished Charmwords Marla Cantrellimages courtesy Ivy Hagedorn

42 people


Not so long ago, Ivy Hagedorn was a retail manager for a Cracker

Barrel in Kingman, Arizona. It was a job she enjoyed, and the

thirty-five-year-old had been with the company since working

at one of their Missouri locations during her college years. But

two things happened while she was in Kingman: a long-term

relationship fell apart, and her father unexpectedly died.

Ivy rushed home to Joplin to be with her mother, and in the

weeks that followed she made a decision. She wanted to move

back, and so she did, in the spring of 2012. Of course she’d need

a job, and Cracker Barrel didn’t have any openings in the area.

She planned to look, but her mom took her aside and gently

suggested that maybe she should slow down, take a break, and

see what happened.

In Arizona, she’d spent her downtime creating collages, large

scale paintings, and mixed media pieces. Her mother, an

antiques dealer, would send Ivy care packages filled with

treasures like tiny glass bottles, or pieces of old jewelry she’d

found at auctions and estate sales, and those would find their

way into Ivy’s work. When she moved, she brought all these

things along. Soon after, Ivy’s aunt offered her a space for a

studio, and she got to work.

By the summer of 2012, Ivy’s attention had turned to jewelry

making. She’d taken art in high school from a teacher who

encouraged her students to try every medium, and during that

time Ivy learned to solder and make polymer beads. She looked

in her old printer’s cabinet that held the old rhinestone pieces

she’d been collecting, and inspiration hit.

She started making one-of-a-kind necklaces, using pieces of old

jewelry, adding pearls at times, and tiny antique light bulbs, old

keys, or pieces of fishing lures. Her friends fell in love with her

eclectic work. So in the fall she headed to an arts and crafts

festival in Neosho, Missouri. Her jewelry was a big hit, and

Ivy realized that she may have found a way to make a living

without ever punching a time clock again. Up until that point

she believed she’d eventually go back to the corporate world,

which seemed like the most responsible thing to do. “I finally

decided that life was way too short to always do what you’re

supposed to,” Ivy says.

And so she came up with a name for her company. She called

it Tarnished Charm. Ivy set up an Etsy store, and a Facebook

page. Before long, she was thinking about jewelry all the time.

Ivy stayed up late, working on designs, crafting new pieces. She

kept a notebook by her bed so she could make quick sketches

if an idea struck her in the middle of the night.

She started adding new lines, like hair clips made from old cuff

links and screw-back earrings. Ivy scoured antique shops, estate

sales and auctions, and started buying vintage rhinestones

online. She grew to love dress clips that were invented in the

1920s, mostly sold in sets of two, and became popular in the

1930s. The clips were often ornate, many in the Art Deco style,

and women would wear them, particularly on corners of square

necklines. When dress styles changed, the clips lost favor,

Ivy Hagedorn

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although Ivy is still flummoxed as to why, since the pieces were

so versatile. Women wore them on chains as necklaces, and

even on hats.

Finding dress clips, and all the other pieces that find their way

into her designs, is not easy, but Ivy thinks it’s worth it. “I don’t

use reproductions,” Ivy says. “Ever. There are so many things

squirreled away in people’s homes, things people are throwing

away. Why do we need to buy all these things made in China,

when we have all this great stuff here that we can reuse? I buy

a lot of things that need to be repaired because those pieces

probably wouldn’t ever get used or appreciated again. Maybe

it’s a broach that’s missing some rhinestones, and I have to go

to my collection and refit the missing stones.

“I work on an old watchmaker’s bench from the 1800s, and I

have a table for my metal work. When I go to shows now, I’ll take

a huge, heavy bag full of stuff I’m working on, and I’ll work at

the shows. People have literally bought things off the table, as

soon as I’ve finished. The shows are a lot of physical work, and

long days, but there’s nothing like connecting with people, even

if they don’t buy. The comments I get from people are almost

overwhelmingly positive, so it’s nice.”

She’s even had people who say they can spot a Tarnished Charm

necklace when they see someone else wearing it. That’s a great

feeling for Ivy. She has many repeat customers who bring their

friends to her shows, or send them to shop online. And she has

others who want custom pieces made. “People will give me

their mother’s pieces, or their grandmother’s, and I’ll turn it into

something for them. That’s special, to take something that was

sitting in their jewelry box for years and turn it into something

they could wear every day. One of my favorites was a lady in

Joplin who literally brought me a giant bag of her grandma’s

and mom’s jewelry and said, ‘Do what you want with it.’ She

wanted a lot of necklaces. I made one memory necklace with

all these little pieces on it, like a charm necklace. When she

opened it up, she started tearing up. All the pieces on it meant

so much to her, and she hadn’t realized I’d be able to work with

all those bits and baubles.”

It’s that kind of challenge, and that kind of reward, that keeps

her excited about her work. Ivy is doing exactly what she wants,

every single day. She looks back at the decisions she made. In

high school she considered going to art school, but she chose

academics instead, becoming an honors international studies/

political science major. As graduation loomed, she considered

grad school, but the thought of writing paper after paper didn’t

appeal to her. She was already working for Cracker Barrel and

they offered her a management position that took her to Kansas

City and on to Kingman.

Her work in the retail shops at the restaurant chain served her

well. She can set up one heck of a display at arts and crafts

shows, she knows how to market, and she’s overcome her

natural shyness in dealing with people.

Now that she’s come to this place in her life, all those seemingly

unconnected events suddenly look like a well thought out

plan. And each step eventually led her right back home, where

she’s undeniably happy. She’s so glad she took the chance, and

that her mother encouraged her to take a break, to just let life

happen for a little while, at a time when that’s exactly what she

needed. Ivy loves that every day she wakes up with a new idea,

a new design, a new way to make a piece of jewelry that will

bring joy to the person who sees it and decides she just can’t

live without it.

To see more of Ivy’s work, visit Tarnished Charm on

Facebook and Etsy.

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Eighteen-year-old Dorwin Shaddox bought another Heath

bar. He’d gotten one earlier, but gave it to a friend, so

he’d have an excuse to go back to the lobby. The girl

working the concession stand at the Buffalo Movie Theater was

the prettiest thing he’d ever seen, and he wanted to make sure

he had a chance to talk to her again. Earlier, she’d mentioned

she was dating the projectionist. Dorwin was dating someone

else too, but there was no harm in standing at that counter, just

long enough to buy candy and look into those sparkling eyes.

It was 1968. Dorwin was a “river rat,” born and raised beside

the Buffalo in Pruitt, Arkansas, but as he grew older, he worked

and socialized in Harrison. The movie theater was there, and so

were many of his friends. After one late night of fun, his buddy

James worried that he might not be able to get up in time for

work the next day. He gave Dorwin directions to his house, and

asked him to come wake him up.

The following morning, Dorwin drove his Chevelle down the dirt

road. “I thought my family was poor until I saw where James

lived,” he recalls. “It was a shack.” Dorwin knocked, and the door

creaked open. There before him stood Patsy, the concession

stand girl, her blue-green eyes and pink bathrobe brightening

the drab front porch. Dorwin was dumbstruck. He had no idea

that James had a sister, much less a beautiful one who worked

at the theater.

A few weeks later, James invited Dorwin to a party at his house.

Patsy was there with her boyfriend, but they weren’t getting

along. Dorwin had earlier determined the girl he’d been dating

wasn’t the one he planned to spend his life with. After Patsy’s

boyfriend left the party, the two stayed up late into the night,

talking and getting to know each other. She broke up with the

projectionist soon after.

TheWorld’sGreatestLove StoryWORDS Brenda Baskinimage courtesy Dorwin Shaddoxand Brenda Baskin

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On their second date, Dorwin told her he loved her, and he meant

it. “I never knew what love felt like ‘til I met her,” he recalls. A

few months later, he stopped in front of the local Whataburger

and asked her to get something out of the glove box for him.

She popped it open, and there was a cardboard envelope. On

the front was written, “Patsy – Please Open.” And that’s how he

gave her the ring.

He was poor, but wanted to assure her parents she’d be well

taken care of. He went to her house and sang the Charlie Pride

song, “All I Have to Offer You Is Me,” then asked her father for

his daughter’s hand. It must have been a good rendition. On

August 14, 1970, nine days after her eighteenth birthday, James

“Dorwin” Shaddox and Patsy Alaine Thomason married. Patsy

held a bouquet of daisies, the only flowers they could afford.

They rented a small house on Union Road in Harrison, and both

got jobs at Walmart so they could be together. Two years later,

daughter Misty arrived, followed by Kevin, then Christy. The

family struggled financially, but the Shaddoxes were fueled by a

desire to succeed. They saved their money, and in 1978 bought

a Century 21 franchise. They then bought a convenience store

and a small apartment complex on Highway 7 South, and set

up shop in one of the apartment units. It was the beginning of

what would become one of the most respected real estate firms

in Boone County.

Dorwin attributes their success to Patsy, who was considered

the best closing agent around. “She was wholesome and kind,”

he says. “People in town called her ‘Honest Abe.’” They won the

Realtor of the Year award thirteen times between them—eleven

by the Regional Board of Realtors and twice by the state.

From day one, Patsy’s desk sat next to Dorwin’s, and they

worked side-by-side throughout their entire marriage. In their

spare time, they hunted, fished and traveled to almost every

state in the US. They worked with the Special Olympics and

established the annual Garth Shaddox Fishing Derby at Lake

Harrison (now in its seventeenth year), in honor of Dorwin’s

late brother. “Everything we did, we did together,” Dorwin says.

People teased them because they were always holding hands,

but over the years, while many of their friends’ marriages ended,

they grew even closer.

In 2004, Dorwin’s legs were crushed in a four wheeler accident.

It was then doctors discovered a cancerous tumor in his lower

back. It rendered him unable to walk or drive, and his vision

was severely impaired. Patsy tended to him while running

the household and the business. She’d always said that she’d

give her life for his, and every night, as they lay in bed, Dorwin

remembers her praying aloud: Take it from him and give it to me.

Together, they fought Dorwin’s cancer battle, and after two

years, he won. He and Patsy were eager to get back to business

as usual.

In June of 2010, they were hired to auction off a turkey farm.

They rolled up their sleeves and went about cleaning the place

up. The mold and feathers made Patsy cough a lot, but after

three weeks, the place sparkled.

A few days after the auction, Patsy sat beside Dorwin at her

desk, filling out paperwork. She got up to go to the back, but

a moment later, she returned. Gasping for breath, she told

Dorwin that something was wrong, then fell to the floor. Dorwin

scooped her up and took her to the doctor who examined her

and immediately sent them to the hospital.

Patsy had a small spot of cancer above one of her lungs, and it

Dorwin and Patsy Shaddox

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had probably been there for a while. Dorwin says that normally, it

would have been slow-growing, and probably treatable, but while

working in the turkey houses, she’d developed histoplasmosis,

a fungus of the lungs caused by (among other things) bird

droppings. The disease accelerated the growth of cancer so

quickly that it was cutting off her oxygen supply. “They gave her

three weeks, maximum,” Dorwin says, his voice breaking.

The day she came home from the hospital, fifty friends stopped

by, and they kept coming until the end. Patsy held her husband’s

hand. He remembers her instructions. “She said, ‘Dorwin, when

I’m gone, I want you to dance. I know we danced together some,

but we didn’t do it enough. I want you to dance more.’”

Heartbroken, he prepared for the inevitable. He drove to Pruitt

to choose their plot at the Shaddox Cemetery. There he spied

a black gum tree, one of the strongest trees on Earth. Two

branches grew from its one sturdy trunk. Dorwin pointed to the

grass beneath it and said, “That’s the spot.”

Patsy died on August 7, 2010, seventeen days after her

diagnosis, nine days before their fortieth anniversary. Her

memorial service was one of the biggest the city of Harrison

had ever seen. Between 500 and 700 people crowded into the

church to honor the woman who had touched so many lives

with her kindness.

It took Dorwin seven months to decide on her headstone. If you

go to the Shaddox Cemetery on the Mill Creek hiking trail, you’ll

see it. Its glossy newness stands out among the other markers,

some of which date back to the Civil War. On the left side is

Dorwin’s name; on the right is Patsy’s. There are daisies etched

into the granite, a reminder of the day they began their lives

together. On the back are the names of their children. Beneath

are the words, “The World’s Greatest Love Story.”

Dorwin visits her often. One day, while sitting on the grass

beneath the black gum tree, his legs still hurting from his earlier

accident, he decided to share their love with the rest of us. He

had a bench placed near Patsy’s grave. Shaded by ancient trees,

it reads Dorwin and Patsy Shaddox in large letters across the

top. Beneath that is a simple suggestion: Have a seat and hold

hands. Countless passersby have done just that, carrying on the

tradition the couple was famous for.

After Patsy’s death, Dorwin closed their business and never

returned. He bought a tractor and some land near his house and

spends hours there, clearing brush, digging a pond, thinking.

His children visit often, and he spends a lot of time with his

grandkids. In 2012, the Arkansas Board of Realtors established

the Shaddox Hearts and Homes Award. It’s given annually to an

agent whose actions are “compassionate, kind, caring, generous

and committed. Engraved in the award is a picture of a couple,

standing close together. The first recipient was Dorwin.

It’s hard to move on, but Dorwin’s trying. Daughter Misty reports

that finally, he’s dancing again. “He can cut quite a rug,” she

says and then laughs.

Still, he knows he’ll never completely get over losing Patsy.

“There was no one like her,” he says. “It was the world’s greatest

love story.”

Do South readers are invited to visit the Dorwin

and Patsy Shaddox Bench page on Facebook, where

everyone’s encouraged to share their own hand-

holding photos.

For directions to Shaddox Cemetery and the Mill

Creek Trail, visit trailheadfinder.com and search for

Mill Creek Trail.

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WORDS Marla Cantrellimage courtesy Amber Ebbrecht

50 people


In September, 2013, Collin Ebbrecht was turning two. His

mother, Amber, was looking for something extraordinary to put

in the gift bags she planned to hand out. She scoured her stash

of cookie recipes and once satisfied, decided how she would

decorate them. Amber picked a chevron pattern would go well

with the theme of the party, which was Thomas the Train, so

she went to Collin’s room and pulled out his Thomas toys and

set them on the kitchen counter. She mixed up the icing and

added food coloring until she got the colors to match the toys

perfectly. When Amber was finished, she had a trove of cookies

that were the hit of the party.

Some of the guests couldn’t believe Amber was able to create

something so beautiful. You should sell these, they said, and

Amber listened. At the time, she was on maternity leave with

her newborn, Benjamin. She had several weeks left before she

returned to her job as the art teacher for Holt and Oak Creek

Middle Schools in Fayetteville, Arkansas. The timing was perfect.

Amber came up with a name: CeBe’s Custom Cookies, a play on

the first letters in her sons’ names. She designed a logo and set

up an online Etsy shop. She read hundreds of blog posts by fellow

bakers, picking up tips on which equipment to buy, and insider

accounts of which recipes were hits and which failed miserably.

Before long, the orders were coming in, from the Etsy shop,

of course, but also from people who’d seen the cookies she’d

made for Collin. What set Amber apart is her decorating skills.

Her work as an artist showed in the intricate designs, some so

ornate they look more like pieces of art than cookies.

She was also able to make templates for cookies when she

couldn’t find a cookie cutter to suit her. And her work with color,

knowing how to put colors together, knowing how to create

those rich hues, brought more and more business.

Often, she’s asked to design something to match a shower

invitation, or to put monograms on cookies. When left on

her own, she comes up with such detailed designs they look

like miniature works of art. One of her recent designs has a

tiny clothesline where hearts are attached with even smaller

clothespins, all set against a blue-sky background. She makes

chicken shaped cookies so adorable it seems a shame to eat

them. She makes cookies in the shapes of mittens, and cottages,

and some that look like chalkboards.

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One of the nicest things her customers say is that they want

to eat the cookies, but taking that first bite is hard to do. They

want to keep them in tact so they can keep enjoying the little

masterpieces Amber’s created.

Her secret to the buttery, sugary wonders is kept under wraps.

What Amber will say is how much she loves what she does.

It’s a process that takes a lot of time. She’s come up with her

own recipes, which include pumpkin spice, chocolate hazelnut,

poppy seed, and vanilla almond. The cookies require drying

time, and the Royal Icing, which hardens after applying,

takes experience to get just right. Amber makes it in three

consistencies for different areas, depending on the design. And

those gorgeous details, like the miniscule roses, are painted on,

something she loves to do.

Even the packaging is beautiful. The cookies are wrapped

separately, placed in a windowed box and decorated with a

handmade fabric bow attached with twine.

Her family loves what she’s doing. “My husband waits for me

to make a mistake, to have a cookie he can eat,” Amber says.

“And I eat my share. It’s a good thing I like to run, or I might be

gaining a lot of weight. I also chew gum when I’m baking, just

so I can avoid any temptation. I think baking is therapeutic, the

kneading of the dough. I love every step in the process.”

It’s a lot to do, teach fulltime, bake in her off hours, keep up with

her family life. But she’s happy to juggle it all. Every step has

led here, she says. What she’s learned as an artist plays heavily

in her designs. And even before that, when she was growing up

in Van Buren, she had a head for business. “I was always selling

something. I’d find things I didn’t need anymore and set up a

table in the driveway and open shop. Once, I painted rocks and

tried to sell them door to door.” Amber laughs. “I remember that

because I dropped one on my dad’s car. I don’t think he’ll ever

forget it either.”

She doesn’t know where CeBe’s Cookies will lead, but she

would love, one day, to own a combination bakery/art school.

She thinks the two things would work beautifully together. She

imagines customers coming in, the place filled with cookies

and pastries and goodwill. She would be smiling, she says, they

would be smiling. It would be a happy, happy place.

To order CeBe’s Custom Cookies, visit Amber’s

online shop at etsy.com/CebesCookies. Since all her

products are custom made, plan to order at least two

weeks early.

Amber Ebbrecht

52 people


Please drink responsibly.

RECIPE Burford Distributingimage Jeromy Price

Add ingredients to glass

in the order listed above.

Care must be taken when

adding the Guinness to

prevent excess foam. Do

not add ice.

Sponsored byBurford Distributing,Fort Smith, Arkansas

1 oz Minsk Vodka1 oz Coffee Liqueur1 Splash Coca-ColaFill with Guinness Stout

54 taste


WORDS Catherine Frederickimages Catherine Frederick and Jeromy Price

56 taste


This is a busy month in my house.

My son’s birthday is in March, as is my dad’s and my husband’s.

My son was born on St. Patrick’s Day, and we have a great

time celebrating each year. And my dad started a tradition

that included his family birthday party being sprinkled with

splashes of green. From the cake, to a special St. Patrick’s Day

shirt, to flashing green shamrock glasses, we’ve seen it all on

Dad’s special day, and it’s something we’ve come to expect.

We have another, fairly new, tradition during the month of

March. We must have our corned beef and cabbage with a side

of soda bread! I must admit, up until a couple of years ago, I had

never tried it and I was adamant that I wasn’t missing a thing.

But fate stepped in when my family and I were invited to a St.

Patrick’s Day celebration at a friend’s house. Low and behold,

what do you think they served? Yep, corned beef and cabbage

and potatoes. What’s a girl to do? I couldn’t be rude. So I made

a small plate. Then went back for seconds and thirds. I was

hooked, and so was my family.

I love a traditional meal of corned beef and cabbage but thought

this recipe also looked interesting. It swaps out the cabbage for

spinach, and wraps up this new twist on tradition into one beautiful

braid. I recommend serving it up with Dijon mustard, Thousand

Island dressing, or creamy horseradish. And, if you happen to be

looking for an Irish blessing to go along with the meal, try one of

our favorites: May your thoughts be as glad as the shamrocks. May

your heart be as light as a song. May each day bring you bright, happy

hours that stay with you all the year long.

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METHODHeat oven to 375°. Line baking sheet with a silicone mat or spray with cooking spray.

Boil 2 large red potatoes, let cool completely, then cut into ¼” slices, set aside.

Thaw and drain 1 cup frozen, cooked spinach, set aside. Unroll 2 Pillsbury Recipe

Creations seamless dough sheets onto prepared baking sheet. Place sheets side-by-

side lengthwise and arrange into one large rectangle, pressing the seams together

with your fingers. Place 6 oz sliced corned beef in center of dough in an 8” wide strip.

Add spinach, then add potatoes. Top with 1 cup shredded white cheddar cheese.

Using a knife, slice 1” wide strips on long sides of dough, making sure to cut the same

number of strips on each side, cutting to within a ½” of the filling. Fold in the short

sides, then alternately cross strips over the filling to make a braid. Brush finished braid

with egg wash (1 egg beaten with 1 Tablespoon water), then sprinkle with caraway

seeds. Bake 25 minutes or until golden brown. Let cool 10 minutes before slicing.

TIP: If you can't find seamless dough sheets, use crescent rolls instead, pressing the

seams together with your fingers.

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WORDS Catherine Frederickimage Jeromy Price

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These containers bring back memories of orange sherbet push-ups from my childhood. My friends and I could eat a box of those in no time flat. I had one last summer. It was good, but not as good as I remembered. But this push-up, the Irish push-up, is a new favorite. It’s packed with chocolate brownie cake, pudding, whipped cream, and topped with an Andes Mint®. So dig in! Or should I say, give me a push up?

Preheat oven to 350°. Line a 13 X 9 pan with foil, then spray with non-stick spray. Pour one box chocolate cake mix into a large bowl and set aside. In a medium saucepan, combine 2 cups milk and 1 small box of chocolate pudding mix (not instant) until slightly thickened. Add pudding to the cake mix and stir to combine. Spread mixture into the pan and press down with your fingers – careful, the mixture may be hot. Sprinkle the top of the mixture with 1 bag Andes® Mint Chips (in the baking section). Bake for 30 minutes, or until a toothpick comes out clean. Let cool completely.

In a medium bowl, add 1 (4oz) package of instant vanilla pudding, plus 3 to 4 drops of green food coloring, 1 ½ cups milk, and ½ cup Irish Coffee creamer, mix well to combine, then place in refrigerator to set. Using the top of the push-up container, cut cooled brownies into small circles. Place a brownie circle in the bottom of the push-up container, top with a dollop of the green pudding mixture, add a swirl of whipped cream, then top with an Andes Mint® and green sprinkles.

{ METHOD }

TIP: If you’re not using the push-up containers, prepare as directed above, and repeat layers depending on the size of dish you’re using. Find Wilton® Treat Tops with Stand at local craft stores and big box retailers.

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River Special, with extra hot sauce, and ate it all before the hulk of a car pulled into her gravel driveway.

At home, she turned on every light and both TVs. Harrell’s work boots were still by the front door, caked in mud, dappled with cement. He worked hard, pouring concrete, painting houses, putting up drywall. Their own house was a hodgepodge of job site castaways. Mismatched doors. Flooring that ran from linoleum to tile to wood. Not one door knob was like another. But in the sunroom there were bookshelves the color of honey, smooth and straight, made from maple that had been whitewashed and then carefully stained. He’d built them the year Wanda took a writing class at the community college and thought she’d become a writer. She had not.

Wanda laid him to rest on a Saturday, the week of Easter, about the same time as Christ had risen from the grave all those years ago. Harrell went down

into the ground as Jesus came up. That’s what she thought that day at the cemetery. She saw it clearly, the rising and falling, like a weight and counterweight, and it made her dizzy.

She asked the driver of the family car – she was alone in it – to drive through Carmen’s Catfish on the way home, and he did, though she could feel his irritation in his outtake of breath, the tightening of his fingers on the steering wheel.

No matter, Wanda thought. She was a stress eater, and now, apparently, a grief eater. It wasn’t as if she’d see the driver again. So she leaned up from the backseat and ordered the Muddy

fiction Marla Cantrell

lOng walk hOme

62 southern lit


In the days that followed, Wanda felt as if she was treading water, so far away from shore she could only see it darkly. When she wandered out she drove shakily, her foot tapping the brake too often, and everything seemed to move too fast. And so she stayed home, more or less, for six months, sneaking out at odd hours of the night to buy bread and chocolate, to drive through Taco Bonita.

But fall arrived, her favorite time of year, and she peered out the window and decided to step out into the sunlight. Why she stopped at Beardo’s Buying Emporium she couldn’t quite say. The sign was red and yellow, the door blue, and there was a line of metal lawn chairs out front, all purple. A happy place, she thought. The man behind the counter was indeed bearded, his belly round, his shoulders pulled back as if balancing his girth.

“What can I help you with?” he asked, and Wanda jumped.

“Oh, not a thing,” she said. “Just looking.”

“Looking don’t cost a thing. Just you have at it.”

And so she wandered the aisles where all kinds of things you didn’t need cluttered Formica tabletops, sat on bookshelves whose paint was peeling. In the very back though, next to a case of ancient Dr. Pepper bottles, was an old yearbook from Mountainburg High. 1976. The year Harrell dropped out to marry her. She flipped through it and found Harrell’s picture. His frizzy hair was a bowl around his head, filling the camera lens, and his shoulders were wide. It was too much, and she dropped the book, and slumped to the floor and cried.

“You got troubles, ma’am?” the bearded man asked when he found her, and kneeled down on the floor beside her.

“More than the sea has sand,” Wanda said.

He pulled a hanky from his pocket, unfolded it and handed it over.

“Everybody’s got their troubles, ma’am. Everybody.”

“My husband Harrell is dead,” Wanda said, and leaned into the man. “Got sick and I thought he’d get better, but then he asked if I’d drive him to the Emergency Room and I did and they took him back and I went to the vending machine to get a Coca-Cola and some peanuts and the next thing I knew I was in a chapel no bigger than my own kitchen and a man young enough to be

my own son put his hand on my shoulder and told me Harrell was gone.”

The man held Wanda while she sobbed. “There, there,” he said. “Bless your little heart.”

Wanda pulled away from him, his touch so kind it seemed to burn her skin.

“Anybody you want me to call?” the man asked.

“Nobody to call. It was just me and Harrell. No kids. No nothing.”

“Same here,” the man said. “Just me, Beardo. And this store.”

“I feel like I took a wrong turn somewhere. Like if I found the right road I could get back to my old life, and Harrell would be there waiting.”

“Would that it could be so,” Beardo said.

“Would that it could,” Wanda repeated. “I wept in the Mimi’s Mini Mart one night last week. Scared the clerk half to death.”

“No shame in crying.”

“No glory either.”

“There’s little glory in this mortal life. We’re born, we stumble through. Nobody knows what they’re doing. In the end, we all just keep walking each other home.”

Wanda frowned. She had gotten into a conversation that had turned philosophical, and she couldn’t quite keep up. She looked at herself. Her jeans were straining at the waist. She’d been eating way too much. Her hair was wild, left to its own devices since Harrell passed, and the gray, she knew, covered the crown of her head. Her socks, one blue and one black, came straight from Harrell’s sock drawer. “I should go,” she said, and grabbed a table leg to pull herself up.

“Stop by anytime,” Beardo said. And Wanda decided: she would never go back.

But sorrow clouds a person’s thinking, and after another week she ventured out again, and once again she went to Beardo’s. He was not behind the counter this time. He was sitting at a card table playing dominoes with three old men, each sitting in

southern lit 63


a motorized wheelchair.

“I’m back,” Wanda said, her voice a little too high.

“Nice to see you,” Beardo said, and the other three men tipped their caps to her. “Pull up a chair.”

“Oh, I couldn’t,” Wanda said, but when Beardo rose she slipped into his seat.

“Play my hand,” he said, and disappeared into the belly of the store.

The old guys let her win, she was sure of it. The one with the Co-op hat told her about his wife, Lou, who was coming soon to pick him up. She was once a belly dancer who had lived in a commune, who divorced him twice, but always came back. “Couldn’t get enough of old Trellon,” he said, and all but crowed.

It was noon before she knew it, and Beardo ordered in a sack of burgers, a pile of onion rings, Cokes so big it took two hands to hold them. The men ate greedily, this bad food they’d been warned against.

“Can you stay?” Beardo asked Wanda, as soon as lunch was over. “I need to take these fellas back to the home.”

Trellon ducked his head, and Wanda understood that if Lou had ever existed, she wasn’t part of the equation now. “Sure,” she said. “What do I do if a customer comes in?”

Beardo smiled. “Sell ‘em something,” he said.

He was gone for more than an hour, and when he rambled up in his rusty van, she watched him walk up the steps.

“Sell anything?” he asked.

“A set of salt-and-pepper shakers. The ones shaped like poodles.”

“Good for you,” he said. “I should pay commission.”

“You bought lunch, so I’d say we’re even.”

“I’ve been hoping you’d come back,” he said.

“Really?”

“Nobody with a broken heart should suffer alone. I lost my mama when I was twenty-two. Beautiful woman. A red head. Worked cleaning houses most of her life. Saved every cent she could. Bought me a truck when I was sixteen. I didn’t know how much of a sacrifice it was back then.

“When she died, I took off. Ended up in Tallahassee in a honky-tonk talking to a man who looked just like Willie Nelson. He bought me a beer and I told him my story. Cried like a baby, and this guy just listened. When I was finished, he put his arms around me. I thanked him and he said, ‘Nothing you wouldn’t do for somebody as messed up as you seem to be right now. This old world is a lonely piece of sorry dirt. The way I see it, we’re all here so we can keep walking each other home, until we get to our real home way up there in heaven.’

“When you showed up you had that look in your eye. You were just as lost as a little lamb. I didn’t know what had happened, but I knew you needed ole’ Beardo to help.”

Wanda felt the first knitting together of her broken heart. She remembered being fourteen, when she and Harrell fell in love, and how he walked her from the bus stop every day after school, his hand in hers, and how she’d look out the window when she got inside. Most days, he’d still be standing in her pitiful little yard, his hand shading his eyes against the sun, and he’d be smiling.

She imagined him in heaven, his sweet old bones no longer aching, his lungs pulling in air without effort. She hoped he was watching her wade through this new world of hers, cheering her on, waiting for the day he could finally walk her home.

“You come back tomorrow,” Beardo said. “Trellon says you’re a sorry excuse for a domino player.” Beardo smiled. “Can’t have an old man like that beat you at a kid’s game. You come back and I’ll teach you some tricks my own mama taught me. You’ll be beating us all in no time.”

The sun was coming through Beardo’s Buying Emporium. It warmed Wanda’s back, it cast a halo of light around her untamed hair. Beardo, facing the glass, put his hand up and shielded his eyes, and for the first time since Harrell died Wanda believed the world might finally right itself again.

64 southern lit


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Do South Magazine: Happy – March 2014

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