A Week at The Beach

Sunrise, Nags Head

I’m in lockdown. At the beach. Nag’s Head, NC, to be exact. My antiquey buddy Beth and I came here right after Labor Day to scout out locations for my next book. I’d never been to the Outer Banks, Beth hadn’t been in many years. We stayed in a way cool inn I found online, First Colony Inn. Very reasonably priced, nice room with television and an in-room fridge for those all-important morning Diet Cokes, and lovely full free breakfasts, not to mention afternoon cocktails. We drove up and down the beach, looking for just the right little hidey-hole for me to write in. At first, I despaired. It looked like Nags Head and all the other towns along the Outer Banks had fallen victim to the heinous “ginormous mega-mansion by the sea” virus that has infected every other spot on the East Coast of the U.S. I’d seen this at our beloved Florida Gulf Coast, where cute little Grayton Beach has been squinched on all sides by expensive developments of tasteful? second homes. And I was disappointed to see all the huge houses shouldering out the little cottages here at Nags Head. But we started cruising up and down the Beach Road. We slowed down, took a closer look. And we found some throw-backs, modest, homely little beach shacks. I found a sign at one little string of three cottages, called the number on the sign, and Bobbie, the owner, agreed to meet us to let me take a look. I fell in love. Windswept, my cottage, is just a nothing wood-frame house. But it’s got character. The kitchen cabinets have been painted white a gazillion times. There’s a chippy enamel-top work table for a counter. I’ve got a little front porch where I can go out and sit in the sun after I’ve been typing away for a while, and there’s a wonderful dune-top deck where I can sit in the late afternoon and scribble on my yellow legal pad.

Windswept, scene of the crime

The weather is spectacular; cold in the mornings, sunny and mild in the afternoons. There’s a rusty fat-tired beach bike I took for a ride after lunch. I rode it past the line of hundred-year-old original Nags Head cottages, the ones they call “the unpainted aristocracy.” I’m angling to get a peek inside one, for research for the new book.

Original Nag’s Head Unpainted Aristocracy Cottage

It’s delightfully quiet at the beach this time of year. I can empty my head here, shut out the familiar voices and noises of family and home–welcome as they are–and just live in the world of my book. This afternoon, I got so absorbed, I began to wonder what the mechanical noise was outside. I walked out to the driveway and discovered that the little beach cottage across the road was being gobbled up by a bulldozer and dumpster. When most of the rubble had been scraped up and hauled away, I walked over to talk to a man who was busy tinkering with something beside the old wood-frame garage, which had mercifully been spared. He cheerfully reported that he was the owner of the cottage, which his wife’s family had bought back in the forties. He said the house was probably built way before that, maybe in the twenties. It had fallen into such disrepair that it was no longer practical to keep fixing it up, so they had it taken down, and they’ll build a fine new house in its place. He seemed like a nice man. I walked back to my side of the road and crawled back inside the world of my book. I think I like it better here.

Junk in my Trunk

After a hard week of writing down at Tybee I decided I needed a junking treat. So Friday morning, I saddled up and rode over to an estate sale run by my favorite dealer. The sale was in Buckhead, which usually means primo stuff. Not this time! I should have been tipped off by the fact that Vicki, the dealer, was standing in the front yard of the house when I pulled up. Why? Because the house in question had been shut up for five years, after the late owner’s wife passed away. And during that time, the rains came. Followed by the twins; mold and mildew. EEEEWWW. A huge dumpster in the backyard had already been filled up, and the rest of it should have followed. Vicki admitted that she would have been standing out in the street, if it were possible. I did, however manage to scrape together a cardboard box full of stuff priced at the grand total of ten bucks. For my money I got some nice old ’20s-40s sheet music, a small white matte pony-shaped pottery vase, a big seashell and three silverplate dog show coasters. All of this is destined for my booth at Seaside Sisters. On Saturday morning, the one day when I had only two hours to junk because I had a date to babysit Molly, there were sales galore. I was headed out to some sales in Midtown when I happened across the Lake Claire neighborhood sale. Now, in Atlanta, I have pre-determined ideas about what kinds of loot certain territories will yield. Buckhead? Pricey (and over-priced) designer goods and primo estate sale stuff. Morningside? Yuppies selling their old Pottery Barn stuff, plus the occasional good granny estate sale–at which there will inevitably be a 1920s Grand Rapids mahogany dining room suite, a moth-eaten mink collar, a walker and a potty chair. Decatur? Mid-century ranch homes with endless basements featuring rumpus rooms with moldy sleeper sofas and elaborate built-in bars with kitschy cocktail accessories and 40-year-old unopened souvenir rum bottles. Candler Park? Once in a while you’ll hit a good estate sale, but these days, I expect to find badly-framed posters, old bongs and the inevitable Whole Earth Catalogue. So I had no expectations for the Lake Claire sale, which is sorta part of Candler Park. I was cruising down the street when I passed a sale featuring racks of children’s clothing and toys. But out of the corner of my eye I spotted what looked like a piece of wicker. My husband thinks I have a built-in wicker warning system. I slowed and then backed up. I sauntered over to the wicker, which turned out to be an adorable rocking chair, which was heaped with over-priced used children’s clothes–like a $10 Baby Gap dress. I asked the price. The woman running the sale wrinkled her nose in disgust and explained that it was her husband’s grandmother’s chair “and it’s been painted like, a hundred times.” So? “Would you pay, like, five dollars?” Would I???? Sensing she had a sucker on the hook, she demanded a whole dollar for the accompanying wicker stool. Sold! The rocker is destined for Molly’s room, the stool will head down to Tybee.

Five dollar rocker, $1 stool, $12 baby shoes didn’t even break a $20 bill

With little time left, I discovered that Druid Hills was having their neighborhood yard sale. Talk about frustration. In the past two years, I’ve scored big in Druid Hills, which, for those of you outside Atlanta, is the neighborhood around Emory University, where DRIVING MISS DAISY was filmed. Huge old homes, big money, even more monied yuppies than Morningside. The sales were scarce, because lots of people had decided that more threatening rains would mean more flooding. But I did find a sale at a huge home where the owner was closing out her children’s clothing and accessories business at the Merchandise Mart. With the clock ticking, I scored three never-used pairs of baby shoes for Molly. Total price–$12. This morning, Katie wanted to get in on the fun. We hit several sales, picking up nothing except for a couple of DVDs for our movie library at the beach. And then we went back to Candler Park, hoping for another good score. And I hit. Check out the vintage dime store shopping baskets and the rack they were displayed in. I remember these baskets from Kresge’s and Woolworth’s when I was growing up. They’ll be headed for sale down to Seaside Sisters.

Collapsible canvas dime store shopping baskets–these could be yours!

And Katie and I will have to get busy making a chair cushion for the wicker rocker that will match the pink and black decor in Molly’s room.

Tybee Time–Again

Truly, I had no idea Atlanta would be subject to torrential rains and flooding over the past week. It’s just that I had a speech to give in Savannah, and another down on St. Simon’s Island, and then a book-signing with my friends at GJ Ford Books on SSI on Thursday. And so Mr. Mary Kay and I planned to spend the weekend at The Breeze Inn. And a very pleasant weekend it was. The summertime heat and crowds are gone, the weather had a hint of fall. The news from Atlanta was not good though–our sump pump conked out, the basement flooded, hot water heater had to be repaired to the tune of $400, ect. But hey, our damage was nothing compared to what I’m hearing and reading about other parts of the Atlanta area. On Friday we kinda messed around the house, kicking back. We had dinner at our favorite restaurant, Sundae Cafe, and went to bed early. Saturday morning, we went out in the boat. The tides down here have been freakishly high this fall, so the fishing wasn’t great, but it was good to get out in the boat and be on the water again. Saturday night we went to a fun dinner party at Hallie’s house–billed as a “Deen Family Reunion”–but without any known members of Paula Deen’s family in attendance. (Unless you count the life-size cardboard cutout of Paula.)
Our hostess’s request was simple: bring an appetizer, side dish or dessert culled from any cookbook written by Paula or any of her family members–you know, like Bobby and Jamie Deen, or her brother, Bubba Hiers, whose Uncle Bubba’s Savannah Seafood Cookbook was co-written by my good friend Polly Powers Stramm. We chose to make Black Pepper Shrimp from Paula Deen’s Kitchen Classics. And when I say we, I mean, Mr. Mary Kay, because he is the seafood chef at our house. The recipe was simplicity itself; very fresh shrimp right off the boat, sauteed in butter (of course!) and garlic, liberally sprinkled with fresh-ground coarse black pepper and baked in the oven at 450 degrees for about five minutes on each side. Naturally, we had to gild the lily a little, garnishing it with thin slices of lemon and finely chopped fresh parsley. Everybody raved about the finished dish. And of course, the buffet table–spread with all that buttery Paula-inspired goodness, looked like a cardiologist’s worst nightmare. We joked that we should have had a dish of Lipitor in the middle of the table. Thankfully, two people did bring fresh green salads. But it was all yummy–especially the four different dishes contributed by our friend Diane of Mermaid Cottages. The cream cheese frosted carrot cake she brought–with little candied apricots made to look like carrots, was just outstanding. Sunday morning, before taking my husband to the airport for the flight back to Atlanta, we decided to try a new restaurant on Tybee, JJ’s Cafe. It’s located on Highway 80, where George’s used to be. I’m happy to report that the food was great, and reasonably priced, so we’ll be back. And now, with Mr. MaryKay back in Atlanta, dealing with non-functioning air conditioners, and refrigerators on the fritz, I’m hard at work again on SUMMER RENTAL, my book in progress.

Fish Camp Cottage

Because the Breeze Inn was booked with guests this week, I’m staying at another adorable Mermaid Cottage; Fish Camp. Fish Camp Cottage is a Jane Coslick masterpiece, which has been featured in COASTAL LIVING AND COTTAGE LIVING magazines. Painted morning glory blue, it’s just the happiest place to write. In the early mornings, I have my wake-up Diet Coke and check email on the little screened porch on the side of the house. There’s a daybed in the converted front porch. That’s where I write in the afternoons. At the front of the house, there’s a little office area where I set up my laptop and get down to business. For nap-time, I like the sofa in the living room. And in the evenings, after I have my ritualistic spaghetti and chardonnay, I write at the kitchen island. When I’m not writing, the weather is so pretty, I take a spin around the island on the beer bike–so named by Boomerang Boy because its double saddle-bag baskets are each the perfect size for a 12-pack of Bud Lite after a shopping trip to the Tybee Market.
The Church of Disney on Tybee
This week I’ve been intrigued by what I call The Church of Disney, which sits catty-corner across the street from Fish Camp. The church is actually a set that was built by the Disney folks this summer when they were filming the Miley Cyrus movie LAST SONG. It’s the sweetest little white clapboard-painted country church you ever saw, with a little red-tin roofed spire, and gothic arched windows and a sign that proclaims it to be the Tybee Island Baptist Church. My understanding is that the movie people have donated it to the local historical society, and that once adequate funds have been raised, it’ll be moved from the vacant lot across the street down to the historic lighthouse on the north end of the island. Once it’s there, they’ll have to do some structural work to make it more than just a movie set, and then people can have weddings and other functions there. Who knows, when SUMMER RENTAL comes out, maybe we’ll even have a book signing there!

Whispers from My Past

I’m consumed with book love right now, and both the objects of my affection are books I read long, long ago as a young girl. If you’re reading this, chances are that you, too, are a die-hard booklover. Myself, I was reading before first grade. I had an older sister and a younger sister, and all three of us devoured any books that came our way–no matter the reading level. We gobbled up the Nancy Drew mysteries, Donna Parker, Trixie Belden. Then we moved on to Louisa May Alcott, (yes, I know you read LITTLE WOMEN, but do you know LITTLE MEN? JO’S BOYS? The book about cousins–can’t remember title?). Of course we adored the Laura Ingalls Wilder books. And somehow, we found the Maud Hart Lovelace Betsy-Tacy-Tib books. For young girls growing up in 1960s Florida, reading about a trio of best friends in turn-of-the-century Minnesota was just too wonderful. How I loved those books. Now, here’s the best part. They’ve been re-issued by my publisher HarperCollins, in truly adorably illustrated trade paperbacks. My friend Virginia Stanley at Harper sent me a box of them last week, and I dropped the grown-up stuff I was reading and dove right into the first, which is HEAVEN TO BETSY/BETSY IN SPITE OF HERSELF . Oh, bliss! I was transported back to that time in a skinny minute. My only complaint? My mystery writer buddy Laura Lippman got to write the foreword for these re-releases. I am simply pea green with envy. By coincidence, I was also recently given a re-release of another classic blast from my past. I’ve long been a huge Daphne DuMaurier fan. Her REBECCA is my favorite book. Ever. But as a young girl, I’d read another Gothic suspense novel, about a Victorian-era governess who takes a post at a mysterious estate in Cornwall. I knew the title, MISTRESS OF MELLYN, but couldn’t remember the author. Lo and behold, the author was Victoria Holt. I am re-reading, and loving every minute of MISTRESS OF MELLYN. Truly, the book holds up better than I remembered. Now, do yourself a favor. Re-visit an old book friend from the past. And tell me what YOUR favorite was.

Brazen Self-Promotion–One Last Time

I am really, really, no kidding winding down my promotional blitz for THE FIXER UPPER. I’m starting a new book, and really, I am so ready to ditch the whole make-up and Spanx routine. Not that I don’t love meeting and talking to you guys. I just wish I could do it in my jammies and scuffies. But there are a few more events this fall where you can catch me. And Spanx or no, I’m really looking forward to all of ’em. The first one is this weekend, at THE AJC DECATUR BOOK FESTIVAL. Oh yeah, there’ll be some other authors hangin’ around. Like 200 or so, including my former AJC colleague and Pulitzer Prize winning buddy Doug Blackmon, and Charlaine Harris, author of the Sookie Stackhouse books that are the basis for HBO’s TRUE BLOOD series, and an awesome range of children’s authors. As for me, I’ll be presenting Saturday at 10 a.m. at the Decatur Presbyterian Church Sanctuary stage. Hey, my kids went to pre-school here! So you could get your funnel cake and then come see me. Details here.

After that, on Sept. 16, you can put on your fall finery and join me at the SMART WOMEN LUNCHEON in Savannah, to benefit St. Joseph’s Candler Hospital’s Mary Telfair hospital for women. It’s a good cause, and I promise to be extra glammed up and funny. Check it out here. The next day I’ll be slummin’ at The Cloister, but if you’re not a member there, you can always come to my book signing afterwards at G.J. Ford Books on St. Simons Island, Thurs. Sept. 17, from noon-2p.m.
And finally, I’m gonna be in the company of some amazing Southern writers of the female persuasion at a CELEBRATION OF SOUTHERN WRITERS being held Sept. 20-24 at the beautiful Old Edwards Inn and Spa in Highlands, NC. Come and get a sneak preview of fall at one of the South’s most stunning inns. Pardon me for name-dropping, but do names like Kathryn Stockett (THE HELP), Cassandra King (SAME SWEET GIRLS), Margaret Maron (SAND SHARKS), Patti Callahan Henry (DRIFTWOOD SUMMER) and Gayden Metcalfe and Charlotte Hays (BEING DEAD IS NO EXCUSE) ring a bell with you? There will be seminars and luncheons and drinks on the veranda, and laughing and lots of good talk about good books. To get all the details, go here.

Junk Love

On Friday and Saturday, I finally got to do a little junking. Jinxie and I were the sole posse members available for the hunt, but we went in style. Our first stop was for a sale promoted as “Fabulous Gays and Fashionistas”. #$@&!!! We were so there. But no. Tragically it rained like a mofo on Friday, and the Gay/Fashionista apparently did not want to get their designer goods ruined, so they posted a tiny little note on the door saying, essentially, like, later. On we went to what we thought was a sale run by our favorite estate sale pro, Vicki Taratoot. But as soon as we walked in, we smelled a rat. Wait. No. That wasn’t a rat. It was eau de urine. There was tons of stuff, yes, but it was all hideously, laughably over-priced. We’re talking $35 for a ’40s luncheon cloth–and not even a pristine, original label tablecloth. $95 for a skanky chenille bedspread. Huh? We looked around and realized we were at the wrong sale, so we high-tailed it outta there. In another block, we found Vicki’s sale. Big relief. Jinx bought a great maple dresser for $50, but all I scored was a set of cutie-pie cocktail napkins and a couple kitchen things. The next day, we vowed to go back to the Gay/Fashionista sale. Sadly, this was a case of ad copy being better than the actual goods. The Fashionista was a size zero, and anyway, we weren’t really in the market for badly-done bootleg Chanel and Louis Vuitton handbags for $45. On we went to a sale advertised on Craigslist as Attack of the Killer Yard-Sale. Finally, I hit paydirt. Or should I say, cat-dirt. I got some good stuff, like this lady-head vase. I’m not an expert by any means, but I think it could be Napco. Note the pearl earrings and necklace and the brush fake eyelashes.

And this fab retro lime green swordfish dish. We kinda have a fishing theme going in the living room at The Breeze Inn, but do I really need one more green thing?

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And this cool pretzel bamboo lamp table. Who doesn’t love retro bamboo?

And this unusal chenille bedspread with red on white candlewicking. It had some inkspots. And it, like everything else in the yard, smelled like a catbox. But I’ve treated it to three washings of Oxy-clean, and it’s now daisy-fresh. And most, if not all of the inkspots are gone.


All of it will soon be headed down to my space on Seaside Sisters. Because I am all about sharing the junk love.

We’ve been shot—by BH & G

Stylists extraordinaire Annette and Natalie

Tom explains blue crab wrangling to Annette

The Breeze Inn has never looked better than it did this weekend–thanks to the genius of the the team shooting our house for Better Homes & Gardens magazine; freelance stylist Annette Joseph and her gorgeous assistant Natalie, and brilliant photographer Rob Brinson.

Rob, our shooting star

After spending a couple days last week slumming at the Cloister on St. Simons Island with my junking buddy Beth, I motored up to Tybee on Friday to meet Annette and Natalie for the much-anticipated shoot for Better Homes and Gardens magazine. They pulled into our driveway Friday at 10 a.m., and I swear, they did not slow down until they’d finished shooting me, Katie and baby Molly on Sunday at noon at our favorite shopping haunt, Seaside Sisters.
Annette had told me they’d be bringing stuff to style the house for the shoot, but schnikeys! They’d brought down a whole SUV-full of pretties. Within five minutes of arrival, Annette and Natalie started hauling most of the furniture off the screened porch, moving it out to the carport, where it served as the display area for all the props for the shoot. Annette had carefully studied scouting photos of our house to see our style (junky) and color scheme–mostly blues and greens with some shots of coral. They bought tons of accessories from Home Goods and World Market, sprinkled in with some vintagey things like a great 1950s aluminum Schlitznik beer cooler, and some items culled from Annette’s personal prop stash, like a stack of delicious turquoise glazed fluted plates from Anthropologie. Did I mention that we got to keep lots of the loot? Yay!

Pretty loot, er, props

First to get photographed was the master bedroom and bathroom. It was amazing to watch how with just a few switched around pieces of furniture and some added accessories, the rooms took on a new zing. Boomerang Boy’s room got shot next, all propped up with fishing poles, a vintage tackle box and a duffle bag full of clothes–not his own–because in real life Boomerang Boy usually arrives at the beach with luggage consisting of his high school football equipment bag stuffed full of dirty laundry. On Saturday morning, Rob and Brian met Tom and Andy at the marina where we keep our boat, and they got some great “lifestyle” shots of the guys fishing. Even a pod of cooperative dolphins showed up for the shoot. In the meantime, back at the house, the girls were styling up our living and dining room. I learned that in the world of magazine photography, more is less. Annette gently diagnosed me as someone with “shopping issues.” Duh. Our rattan armchairs were annexed to the far side of the room to give the living room “breathing room”, and one of the slipcovered armchairs I bought last weekend was moved from the dining room to the living area. Then the girls added shots of hot pink accessories–a soft pink plaid throw went over the arm of the sofa, pink striped pillows from Home Goods were added to the slipcovered armchairs, a white vase of pink roses was artfully posed on an end table, and yes, a stack of Mary Kay Andrews novels was added to the mix. Wasn’t it smart of my publisher to give my books jackets that fit my beach house color scheme? The kitchen and dining room got fluffed up too–down to having each plate and wine glass in the glass-front kitchen cabinets carefully lined up, and the countertops accessorized with a vintage bread box, copper utensil jugs and a row of designer jams and jellies. Not even the tiniest detail got overlooked. Our kitchen sink got glammed up with grapefruit dish soap, a pretty pink sponge, and an array of Home Goods aqua dish towels. Since it was my husband’s birthday weekend–and our whole extended family was down for the celebration, I’d mentioned that we’d probably serve a birthday dinner with Tom’s famous crab cakes, corn on the cob and a chocolate birthday cake. Off went Natalie–to Bowie’s Seafood on Tybee for the aforementioned blue crabs, and to Davis Produce on Wilmington Island, for a crate of fresh corn, ripe tomatoes, and mango for the mango salsa.

Glamour shot of the kitchen sink–even the pink sponge was color coordinated

My newlywed niece Corry helpfully baked the birthday cake layers, and then I made the frosting–using a spazzed-out hand-mixer which left me and the kitchen counter covered head-to-toe in chocolate . Good thing the stylist made me change out of my “picture clothes” before hand! Then Annette stepped in and made my homemade chocolate frosting look waaaay prettier than I could ever have done. Finally, Tom was brought in to wrangle the blue crabs into the pretty blue stockpot. I kept thinking of the lobster-cooking scene from Annie Hall. Thankfully, none of our crabs escaped. Funny thing, after all those carefully staged food shots, we were too tired to actually make the crab cakes, so we ended up sending out for pizza! On Sunday morning, we managed to get the whole family–including Tom’s sister Jeanne, brother Bob, who was the contractor for the house remodel, his wife Laurie, his three sons, daughter-in-law and grandson, rounded up for family beach photos. At one point, Annette spotted a couple surfers down the beach, and decided Rob should take photos of Andy surfing. Thus, Natalie, the smoking hot assistant, was dispatched to persuade the surfers that they should loan us their boards. Obviously, they could not have been more pleased to help out. Once the photos were finished, the BH&G team headed back to Atlanta, and all the family members headed home too. Now, lest you think our house always looks this photo-ready, let me let you in on a secret–it takes a village to get a house ready for a national magazine shoot. Mr. Mary Kay and I went down to Tybee last weekend to do some fluffing, and then The Mermaid Cottages housekeepers worked feverishly between guests last week to make sure every inch of the house was sparkling. Our amazing landscape wizard Kelly Lockamy even worked through a couple of torrential downpours to get the front garden spiffed up with blooming posies. Sunday night, to celebrate a sucessful shoot, we invited Susan from Seaside Sisters, and Diane from Mermaid Cottages to join us for the kind of occasion we love–an impromptu Sunday night supper. Beth and husband Richard drove up from the Cloister, so we had a dinner for six–crab cakes, cold asparagus with lemon-herb mayonnaise, a fresh corn salad made with tomatoes, basil, red pepper and a buttermilk vinaigrette dressing. Topped off with Susan’s peach crisp. Perfect ending to a great weekend. P.S.–Look for the BH&G story next summer–probably July.

Susan and Diane toast to Sunday suppers

Remember me?

Tybee yard sale score–slipcovered armchairs–3 for $40!


Framed kiddie bathing suits from the 1950s


Flea market letters spell out the locale on Breeze Inn porch

I’ve been a bad, bad blogger. Readers, including Tybee Ron, have chastised me because I’ve been neglecting to blog. So I’m back with exciting news. Next weekend, The Breeze Inn–and its owners, are going to be photographed for BETTER HOMES AND GARDENS magazine. Which meant that Mr. Mary Kay and I took a quick trip down to Tybee this past weekend to do a little fluffing. Boomerang Boy and his oldest buddy, Michael, joined us. I had pictures to hang, and stuff to arrange, and the boys wanted to go out fishing, which they did. They brought back a nice mess of spotted trout. And I did some hunting. Junk hunting, that is. My junk buddy Tacky Jacky called Friday night to alert me to the fact that she’d seen a Craigslist ad for a sale just a couple blocks from the Breeze Inn. Saturday morning I hopped on my beach bike and cruised over to the sale. Jackpot! I snagged a sweet antique twin bed–for five bucks! Also a mission oak desk–for next to nothing, along with a $2 mirror. I ran home to get Mr. Mary Kay and his truck, to pick up my stuff, and when we got back to the sale a few minutes later, the woman running the sale had uncovered more good stuff–including three slipcovered armchairs–for $40. How could I turn down a deal like that? By 9 a.m. I’d positioned two of my chairs in the dining room at The Breeze Inn, and the third was loaded up to bring home to Katie. Jacky and I did a little more junking around Savannah. I scored a repro Jadite covered casserole at the Union Mission thrift shop, and she scooped up some cookbooks, but mostly, we just laughed and caught up with each other. Saturday afternoon, Mr. Mary Kay and I did our fluffing. We hung up the adorable matted and framed 1950s children’s bathing suits (a gift from posse members Jinxie and Shay) in the stairhall, where I’ve been arranging all my vintage black and white beach photos. And on the screened porch, we hung the old sign letters I’d found in June at the Scott’s Antique Market. My husband also hung the beautiful original pastel painting that was a birthday gift to me from my friend Diane of Mermaid Cottages. Wish I’d taken a picture of the painting, it shows a pigtailed little girl running down a sandy path to the beach. Diane says this is what our Molly will look like in only a few years. I’ll be sure and get a picture when we’re down next weekend. And I promise not to take so long between blog posts.

Breeze Inn winner–Meet Kellie

We had tons of responses to Apartment Therapy’s super-cool giveaway of a weekend at my own BREEZE INN COTTAGE and I truly wish I could give everybody a free stay there–but Mr. Mary Kay and the rest of the family might not like that. So here’s the one, true winner chosen by Apartmment Therapy: Kellie–she lives in St. Louis, is a former flight attendant who still loves to travel, and she says she’s been wanting to visit Savannah ever since watching MIDNIGHT IN THE GARDEN OF GOOD AND EVIL. Welcome Kellie. And stay tuned, the rest of you contest devotees, for upcoming cool contests.

End of the Book Tour Trail–Almost

Pork roll–a Jersey specialty

With Cathy Blanco at Book Exchange in Marietta

Star for a night in Woodstock, GA.

Bits n’ pieces, dibs n’ dabs, odds n’ ends. Nearing the end of a very busy, very good tour. It’s so gratifying–and fun, to meet folks who love books–and better yet, like mine. So here are some highlights: Favorite sign: spotted on a storefront in Pittsburgh: GUNS AND SMOKES. Says it all, doesn’t it? Favorite moment? The day I got to hold my new granddaughter Molly. Second favorite sign? The marquee of the theatre in Rome, GA. where I gave a talk and book-signing last Friday night. Finally–my name in lights. And within a week–more lights–courtesy of Fox Tale Books in Woodstock, GA., where I was treated to a fabulous book signing birthday party. Mom and Dad woulda been so proud! Favorite new friends? The five gay men I met at dinner in Rehoboth Beach, who by way of a compliment, told me “your hair’s not that big for somebody from the South.” Favorite junk find, tie between the “NO SWIMMING, DIVING OR CRABBING FROM BRIDGE” sign found at Pleasant Point Antique Emporium, and $5 vintage straw boater found in Fairhope, AL. Favorite gift? Vintage beach snaps from Vintage Sue, or how ’bout that suitcase full of treasures from Rita and the Real Estate Barbies of Woodstock? Although I really don’t know how I’m gonna explain that pair of red thong panties (ala HISSY FIT) to Mr. Mary Kay. And I can’t forget that wonderful Breeze Inn light gifted me by Clare. Favorite meals? All the ones shared with old and new friends, like dinner in DC with Sue of Vintage Rescue Squad, late-night supper with the fabulous Laura Lippman and Marcia Talley in Baltimore, drinks with super-agent Stuart Krichevsky on the porch of The Parker House in Sea Girt, NJ, dinner with marketing maven Meg Walker and her mom Kathy in Ocean Grove (or was that Asbury Park?) summer book party chicken salad with a great party at The Book Exchange in Marietta, GA., and dinner last week with Diane from Mermaid Cottages, Susan from Seaside Sisters, Tacky Jacky and a host of other cool ladies, not to mention late supper with Patti Morrison in Mount Pleasant, S.C. Thanks everybody!