My mid-fifties were approaching at a rapid pace, but for some reason I could see sixty coming on the horizon at a much more rapid pace. "How was this happening", I wondered. Prom was also right around the corner as was Liam's ability to be drive and be independent. I felt sure I was going to need anti-depressants again, so that morning I phoned my doctor.

He recommended Abilify. It was a new drug on the market that at a low dosage would simply give you a "boost", supposedly. And Lord knows I needed that.

In March, I could see that the plans I had put in place for Clayton were starting to gain traction. He brought in approximately $2M a month for the first three months of the year, which was almost as much as he had done in the preceding eighteen. Things were looking up around the office, and Clayton was quick to reward me for my efforts.

Just before Easter, on that Friday; Good Friday in fact, Clayton walked in the door whistling with a large covered package in his hand. It contained small gifts of kindness for Liam and Isabella and flowers for me. From time to time, I had brought in a few Orchids; and being the green-thumb that I am, they had not lasted near as long as they should have. That morning, he brought the most beautiful Orchid. It had hues of purple, yellow and pink; and simply took your breath away with it's beauty.

I took a run on the beach the next morning and when I returned Brady was still sleeping. Since it was nearly 6:00 AM, I checked his pulse, but he was still with us. He had decided to bring his typewriter along for the week, as sitting in front of the beach might give him inspiration. At this point, he was ¾ of the way finished on the first copy of each book. I suggested that he pick one to actually finish over the time spent at Sea Manor, since he had received an advance and the editor and agent would soon be wanting a copy. He decided to finish his memoir, as he thought it best represented his writing style; and since it was more fact based, it would be easier on his noodle while on vacation.

                 

Brady typed away at the “machine” every morning after making me breakfast and applying me with a cheese, vegetable and fruit plate. He wrote from about 6:00 AM – 9:00 AM each morning as it was relaxing for him. He thought about work throughout the day, as that is just the way he is wired, but I would whisk him away to one of the eight bedrooms when I could see the steam rolling from his ears.

                

Eight days and seven nights went too fast. I longed to return to Isabella and Liam now that I has rejuvenated myself. I had had a spa day, plenty of fine food to eat, way too much in the libations department; however, never overindulging. Brady also had his fair share of the local brews and his go-to favorites, but he also never seemed more than a little bit tipsy.

               

Liam and Isabella hugged us around the neck on our return home. Kisses and hugs were thrown around and the next vacation, that would have to happen soon, would be to see Brady's parents. It had been quite a while, and while it is sad to say, we had never spent a formal holiday with his parents since our wedding day.

                

In October of that year, we had our first dusting. The snow was beautiful, as the flakes took on new shapes that I had never seen. Each one was different, and while it was not too cold, I bundled up the kids in their snow suits and sent them out in the yard to make snow angels and such. How children can play outside for hours and never get cold, I don’t know, but my children were no different. After a few hours outside, they returned inside and I sat them down in front of the wood burning fireplace with some hot chocolate and turned on the Looney Tunes. I have never allowed the children to watch any of the modern cartoons, as they are just not the same. Barney and Friends just doesn’t get. A purple dinosaur, really?

                 

Brady was happy to be back to work and was offered a promotion after only six months. He was now in his 18^th month with Mutual of Omaha and was managing an office in Greenville, South Carolina, in addition to having his own production requirements. At this time, he has eclipsed the $25 Million dollar mark in his book of business and had time in his day for referrals only. He had stopped doing seminars, as he originally did at the beginning, and was focusing his business on courting large 401(K) plans between new referred clients. At this level, he could sleep like Rip Van Winkle for a year and he would still bring home $250,000. He liked and appreciated the fact that Mutual of Omaha had given him the extra responsibility, even though it took him away from the children two nights a week. On days that he had to go out of town, I would write him letters of encouragement to get him thru.

Brady,

I realize that you have a long week ahead of you and then next week you will travel to Omaha, Nebraska, for additional training. Remember that home is where the heart is. Not that you need reminding, but Isabella will soon be eight! It is amazing how time flies, as I will soon be forty-five, you thirty-seven and Liam six.

As you are well aware, I feel sure, in just ten short years, your daughter will graduate and we will have to help her select a college. As I think about the days and nights that I spent at Vanderbilt, I feel sure that it would be a great place to start. I certainly do not want to see her go North, with the exception of Julliard, as her piano skills are coming along in a rewarding and positive direction.

At the same time, you will learn to be patient as Liam will be learning to drive. I am not at all excited about this prospect; as he is like you, and can be a little scatter-brained at times. Intelligent, yes, but too much going on his HIS noodle at one time. He is certainly his father’s son, and Isabella her Daddy’s girl.

With Enduring Love,

Stephanie

In November, we made our first trip to Mendoza, Argentina. This would be the perfect time to buy a piece of land and look for a winemaker. Brady had already made contract with Stephen Derencourt to be our resident enologist and advisor. Perhaps the most evasive, yet successful advisor in the wine consulting business; it was a bold approach, and costly to retain his services, but Brady being the smart businessman that he is felt he was worth his weight in gold; which is exactly what we intended to make. In addition to the wine business, Brady wanted to do some consulting of his own and Stephen promised to show him some of his trade secrets…from vine to glass. Brady had decided that a full twenty-one percent of the profits from the wineries would go back into the business as investments and then be funneled to philanthropic efforts that were yet to be determined. He placed me in charge of figuring out the most appropriate place for that.

               

I came up with what I thought was a novel idea. Similar to the approach used in social networks and network marketing, I decided to develop a sort of “ring of fire” around prayer. Women would unite in groups of seven; (as if there is any other number), and pray over the concerns of each other’s family and children. No family matter would be too big or too small. We were going to allow the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit to drive the bus. It started off small in December, and it would eventually grow nationally and then internationally. First Canada, then Russia, China, and even Malaysia. I began to have each mother pay dues at each meeting totaling $15 each month. This would allow me to hire a staff and a finance director and form a foundation. Brady had too many irons in the fire at the time anyway, so he reluctantly waivered on the idea of doing the finances for the foundation. In fact, for accounting purposes, and to be removed from IRS scrutiny, we decided to let Michael Crawford at the firm of Dixon Hughes Goodman, LLP handle all of our business. Brady initially had trouble relinquishing this responsibility, but hiring an expert to handle multiple lines of business and philanthropic areas finally made sense to him. He focused on his work, I focused on mine; we focused on the children, and this move allowed us the flexibility to again spend some quality time together. Lord knows, it had been a while since the word vacation was thrown around, or for that matter even mentioned at our house.

                

We had to find some time to get away soon. This called for a desperate and bold move on my part…so I wrote to Dad:

 Dad,

It has been nearly four years since Brady and I have been on vacation. Do not worry, as the children and Brady and I are well. We just need some time to relax.

Brady finally gave the reigns to an accountant at a local firm. It has taken some time, but he has followed your advice and hired Mike Crawford at the firm of Dixon Hughes Goodman.

It is with the utmost respect that I am asking you to come to the beautiful city of Asheville, and allow Brady and me to slip away for a weekend. I promise there will be food in the house for Mom to cook and plenty of ice cream for you before bed. Please come soon, before I blow a head gasket! The End!

Stephanie

                

This time, I would pick our vacation spot. I wanted to go to the beach, but at the same time wanted to be close to the kids. Daufuskie Island would have to do. I went all out and rented a glorious mansion on the island for a ridiculous $4000 for the week. Money was not an object for Brady and I at this point in our life, and I needed to feel pampered. The place was called Sea Oak Manor I, and it would be our humble (yeah right!) abode for the next week.

Brady looked with amazement and a bit of disdain at me when we arrived, but I looked back as if to say, “I need this!”, so he let it go at that. There were enough bedrooms for a basketball team to move in for the weekend, but it mattered not. I had an evil plan to make use of every one of them. When we arrived, I called Dad to check on Liam and Isabella. They were fine, and I mentioned that I would phone often, but did not set any expectations. I needed a break!

The house slept thirty-two and had eight bedrooms, a pool, a card and game room, a wedding gazebo, a reunion room, and of course was an oceanfront manor. Puff Daddy would have been impressed with my selection.  The first thing that I wanted to do when I arrived was to take and dip my toes in the sand. Brady and I took a walk that evening, as he had left work after lunch that day, and we arrived about 6:00 PM. Soon we would have to find a place for a suitable meal, but I needed to feel the waves calmly caress my feet.

                At the South Beach Marina, a Marriott property, we browsed some local shops and finally found a restaurant for the evening meal. Marshside Martha’s Café looked like a rickety old shack on the outside, but on the inside was appealing. Nothing fancy, as the outside was representative of the inside, but the food was amazing. Brady and I opted for a bowl of Shrimp Gumbo for starters. He had a local brew and I sweet tea. There is just something about Southern Sweet Tea that just hits all my buttons. Since I was away from the children and wanted to “cut loos”, I knew that Brady would apply me with some wine, Mimosas or Bloody Mary’s in the morning, but at this point I wanted the local brew of the non-alcoholic type. For dinner I had a Bone-in Pork Chop and Brady a Rib-eye. He loves steak, and is especially fond of grilling them at home on a charcoal grill. He has been working on this master craft for some time, and for some reason must have a beer in hand while grilling. Dinner was amazing, and we jetted back to the house for some rest and relaxation.

In November, we made our first trip to Mendoza, Argentina. This would be the perfect time to buy a piece of land and look for a winemaker. Brady had already made contract with Stephen Derencourt to be our resident enologist and advisor. Perhaps the most evasive, yet successful advisor in the wine consulting business; it was a bold approach, and costly to retain his services, but Brady being the smart businessman that he is felt he was worth his weight in gold; which is exactly what we intended to make. In addition to the wine business, Brady wanted to do some consulting of his own and Stephen promised to show him some of his trade secrets…from vine to glass. Brady had decided that a full twenty-one percent of the profits from the wineries would go back into the business as investments and then be funneled to philanthropic efforts that were yet to be determined. He placed me in charge of figuring out the most appropriate place for that.

               

I came up with what I thought was a novel idea. Similar to the approach used in social networks and network marketing, I decided to develop a sort of “ring of fire” around prayer. Women would unite in groups of seven; (as if there is any other number), and pray over the concerns of each other’s family and children. No family matter would be too big or too small. We were going to allow the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit to drive the bus. It started off small in December, and it would eventually grow nationally and then internationally. First Canada, then Russia, China, and even Malaysia. I began to have each mother pay dues at each meeting totaling $15 each month. This would allow me to hire a staff and a finance director and form a foundation. Brady had too many irons in the fire at the time anyway, so he reluctantly wavered on the idea of doing the finances for the foundation. In fact, for accounting purposes, and to be removed from IRS scrutiny, we decided to let Michael Crawford at the firm of Dixon Hughes Goodman, L.L.P handle all of our business. Brady initially had trouble relinquishing this responsibility, but hiring an expert to handle multiple lines of business and philanthropic areas finally made sense to him. He focused on his work, I focused on mine; we focused on the children, and this move allowed us the flexibility to again spend some quality time together. Lord knows, it had been a while since the word vacation was thrown around, or for that matter even mentioned at our house.

                

We had to find some time to get away soon.

                

This called for a desperate and bold move on my part…so I wrote to Dad

Dad,

It has been nearly four years since Brady and I have been on vacation. Do not worry, as the children and Brady and I are well. We just need some time to relax.

Brady finally gave the reigns to an accountant at a local firm. It has taken some time, but he has followed your advice and hired Mike Crawford at the firm of Dixon Hughes Goodman.

It is with the utmost respect that I am asking you to come to the beautiful city of Asheville, and allow 

Brady and me to slip away for a weekend. I promise there will be food in the house for Mom to cook and plenty of ice cream for you before bed. Please come soon, before I blow a head gasket! The End!

Stephanie

                

This time, I would pick our vacation spot. I wanted to go to the beach, but at the same time wanted to be close to the kids. Daufuskie Island would have to do. I went all out and rented a glorious mansion on the island for a ridiculous $4000 for the week. Money was not an object for Brady and I at this point in our life, and I needed to feel pampered. The place was called Sea Oak Manor I, and it would be our humble (yeah right!) abode for the next week.

                

Brady looked with amazement and a bit of disdain at me when we arrived, but I looked back as if to say, “I need this!”, so he let it go at that. There were enough bedrooms for a basketball team to move in for the weekend, but it mattered not. I had an evil plan to make use of every one of them. When we arrived, I called Dad to check on Liam and Isabella. They were fine, and I mentioned that I would phone often, but did not set any expectations. I needed a break!

               

The house slept thirty-two and had eight bedrooms, a pool, a card and game room, a wedding gazebo, a reunion room, and of course was an oceanfront manor. Puff Daddy would have been impressed with my selection.  The first thing that I wanted to do when I arrived was to take and dip my toes in the sand. Brady and I took a walk that evening, as he had left work after lunch that day, and we arrived about 6:00 PM. Soon we would have to find a place for a suitable meal, but I needed to feel the waves calmly caress my feet.

                

At the South Beach Marina, a Marriott property, we browsed some local shops and finally found a restaurant for the evening meal. Marshside Martha’s Café looked like a rickety old shack on the outside, but on the inside was appealing. Nothing fancy, as the outside was representative of the inside, but the food was amazing. Brady and I opted for a bowl of Shrimp Gumbo for starters. He had a local brew and I sweet tea. There is just something about Southern Sweet Tea that just hits all my buttons. Since I was away from the children and wanted to “cut loos”, I knew that Brady would apply me with some wine, Mimosas or Bloody Mary’s in the morning, but at this point I wanted the local brew of the non-alcoholic type. For dinner I had a Bone-in Pork Chop and Brady a Rib-eye. He loves steak, and is especially fond of grilling them at home on a charcoal grill. He has been working on this master craft for some time, and for some reason must have a beer in hand while grilling. Dinner was amazing, and we jetted back to the house for some rest and relaxation.

                

I took a run on the beach the next morning and when I returned Brady was still sleeping. Since it was nearly 6:00 AM, I checked his pulse, but he was still with us. He had decided to bring his typewriter along for the week, as sitting in front of the beach might give him inspiration. At this point, he was ¾ of the way finished on the first copy of each book. I suggested that he pick one to actually finish over the time spent at Sea Manor, since he had received an advance and the editor and agent would soon be wanting a copy. He decided to finish his memoir, as he thought it best represented his writing style; and since it was more fact based, it would be easier on his noodle while on vacation.

                

Brady typed away at the “machine” every morning after making me breakfast and applying me with a cheese, vegetable and fruit plate. He wrote from about 6:00 AM – 9:00 AM each morning as it was relaxing for him. He thought about work throughout the day, as that is just the way he is wired, but I would whisk him away to one of the eight bedrooms when I could see the steam rolling from his ears.

Brady was smart to put all the businesses in my name. This allowed us to apply for minority owned business grants and additionally made it easier to qualify for loans and lines of credit for our two businesses. Approximately eighty percent of our household expenses were covered under IRS rules that allowed us to deduct that revenue from our income, or gross profit, allowing a more constant and steady flow to the bottom line. We were taking in $75,000 each month, and were able to write off nearly $57,000. It still placed us in the top ten percent of income earners in the United States, but with our investments and capital gains being taxed at a paltry ten percent, we were making out like bandits. Brady also started a “Wealth Building” team at our church, and was the head of the committee. He put a plan in place to pay off the debt of the church in seven years, a biblically sound number, and based his projections on rolling 40-day periods, also significant for raising the capital to retire the debt. He was a master planner when it came to finances, and I always appreciated his counsel personally, even before we were married. Life was good.

               

At the age of forty-two, I became pregnant. God was blessing us with our first child and we had prayed for only ten fingers, ten toes and healthy. We did accomplish our goal, and Isabella was born on Mother’s Day. What a gift from God!!! Isabella Reyna was born with a full head of red hair and was healthy from day one. Brady had concerns that she or our son that would come in two years would be bipolar, but that was something that only God could control.

Liam was ironically born on Brady’s grandfathers’ birthday and just two days before his on March 5. At the time, his grandfather was ninety-two years young. Vibrant, but healthy by most concerns, Wayne Henderson Durst had been born in 1992 just before the depression in 1929. He had several brothers and sisters and all had proceeded him in death by the time he was eighty-five. Even his wife had preceded him in death seven years earlier. She had lived a full life with “Grandpap”, as we called him, but was stricken with Dementia and Alzheimer’s disease and knew mostly nobody at the time of her death. She was a strong Catholic woman and Brady and his mother, and two brothers, grew up in the Catholic Church. Brady would later learn that an intercessory to God was not necessary and joined the Baptist Church.

               

  As I am now writing about Liam and Isabella, I sit here on the veranda of the Greenbrier Resort. Isabella is now four. With respect to development, she had not and did not experience the “terrible 2’s” but did have trouble with teething. Liam on the other hand is experiencing them right now. The combination of teething and the “terrible 2’s” is about to drive me insane. Brady said he was quite the monkey in his youth, and if genetics plays any factor at all, Liam is sure to follow in his footsteps. He is climbing out of his crib, throwing food at people in restaurants, and riding a motorized John Deere tractor exempt from the consequences of his actions.

                

As I prepare Isabella for school, she is already reading at a 2^nd-grade level. She loves books and is currently into anything Barnes & Noble, including the iced Frappuccino’s, unfortunately. I can see why those in Seattle are now rich and why it has appropriately been named on the street; better known as ““5-bucks”! At the end of the day, Brady takes time to read to them a short verse from the Bible and a short story. All of fifteen minutes puts them both sound asleep, and sometimes Brady will let Isabella and Liam sleep together. Other times, Liam is ushered off to his crib, and typically crawls or climbs, rather, out of it about 5:45 AM. Luckily for me, Brady spends his free time in the morning doing a devotional from “The Leadership Bible”, and then writes a few words for a novel he is working on. If one project is not enough, he is currently working on two. A business at Mutual of Omaha, the restaurant, the personally delivery service, two books for a creative outlet, and two young children is quite the full plate I would reckon. But somehow, and thru the Grace of God, he does, indeed, handle it with grace.

               

Thankfully, I have just the restaurant and the kids. Though I do not see my parents as much as I like anymore, they attempt to come down every two weeks to see the grandchildren, and I make the trek to Roanoke via the Blue Ridge Parkway every two weeks as well.

Mom,

Isabella and Liam are growing like weeds. Liam hates haircuts and the dentist, and is ornery. He typically crawls out of his crib exactly at 5:45 AM religiously, but Brady is there to feed him breakfast. Sometimes, he invites him to the dock overlooking the lake near our home and they bang on the typewriter together. Bray is getting overwhelmed by the fact that Liam is learning everything so fast. He will soon be able to count to ten, and knows how to work an iPhone better than any of us.

Isabella is reading well and even reads to Liam before bed. They are both brushing their teeth and even FLOSSING. Hooray! Yeah, ME! Brady and I have found time to exercise and he is doing better all the time at making it home by 7:00 PM each night. Thankfully, we have a good staff at both businesses, and they are not cranking out the normal hours that a restaurant otherwise might have to. They are usually all packed up with the doors locked by 11:00 PM.

We are making a good income as you might expect, largely in part because of Brady’s financial tutelage and guidance. He is using biblical principles, and not flying by the seat of his pants either.

We will be home for Thanksgiving, and I am excited to think about our shopping excursion. I would like to suggest that we indoctrinate Isabella into the culture, but judging by the way she can order at 

Barnes & Noble and Starbucks, we may want to let the fire burn for another year.

Your loving daughter,

Stephanie

P.S., send me some sheets, as I miss the fall air…as my neighbors made me take down the clothesline L

               

                August and September is probably my favorite two months. Outside of the Thanksgiving holiday with my mother, I have come to appreciate this time of year. Dad has usually stopped running hay for the year and is/was home more often during my youth. He is now more or less a consultant for the engineering firm, and only takes jobs with a high return on investment attached to it.

                

Fall in Asheville, and especially at Biltmore Lake is beautiful. In addition to writing and spending time with Liam and Isabella, Brady has started kayaking in the morning. Typically at 4:45 AM, he has donned his wet suit and paddles for about an hour, or more correctly fifty-five minutes so that he has time to lug that thing home in five minutes before Brady begins looking for him. Oatmeal or cold cereal and fruit is usually what the three of them have for breakfast. Ever since Whole Foods came to town, we have shopped at only Whole Foods and the Ketuah Marketplace. Coffee there is reasonable, the food is 100 percent organic, and the beer, wine and cheese selection are to die for. Brady recently got a four-pack of beer from Sierra Nevada; which recently started construction on a $350 Million project in nearby Mills River, North Carolina. It will house a restaurant, golf course, two private clubs, a brewery and of course a restaurant. Located near the airport, it is sure to attract a multitude of visitors.

               

As September ushers in, it is time to go to the fair. This will be Liam’s first experience and Isabella has been twice. She likes cotton candy and fried donuts and candy bars, neither of which we let her have very often. However, this year with Liam in toe, we will have to let her indulge at the expense of the crying and fussing that would ensue otherwise. Isabella is big enough to ride rides this year, as she has just eclipsed the height and weight requirements. Liam will have to go around in circles with Brady on the carousel or something of that nature.

               

 On the first nite, we took things easy, simply allowing them to eat fries and a cheeseburger. Then we strolled thru the livestock barns and listened to all the sounds and saw all the sights that are associated with the farm. This was Tuesday nite. Mom and Dad were coming for Friday and Saturday night, so I needed Wednesday and Thursday to put on my “French Maids” outfit and clean our humble abode. With our bedroom being on the first floor, mother and father would have the kids and the upstairs to themselves. While it was tradition for Brady, he allowed my father to do the honours on Friday and Saturday nite, as chief storyteller. Dad has many a story and takes a different approach, telling stories from his past and childhood. As I lay in bed, I could quietly hear Dad telling a story, and mother and the children laughing until their little bellies were rolling like jellybeans in a jar.

                

I have been amazed that we haven’t had any major traumatic events to this point. Liam was colic as a young boy, and once or twice Isabella became ill with the flu, but we had escaped pneumonia and massive amounts of vomiting or the passing of blood. I laid awake for the longest time that evening and Brady and I talked about how blessed we were to have Mom and Dad and the children. “Would they always be this happy”, I thought? I knew the answer, but shielded myself from the natural outcome that would imminently come into my little pea brain. After all, Brady was the head of household and the real brains of the operation.

                

Brady finished his first book that year in November. It was just before the Thanksgiving holiday and he had hoped to have it on the bookshelves for the Christmas holiday. He had found an agent and received an advance of $25,000. We thought this to be more than reasonable, as this was his first attempt as a novelist. He was happy with the extra income that month, and donated all of the proceeds to the Autism Foundation and the Wealth Building Team at the Church. In the four years that Isabella had been alive, they had already retired 5/8th s of the debt owed. They were ahead of schedule, but decided that no matter what, the debt would not be repaid except within the parameters of the 7^th year.

                

The restaurant was doing better than expected, and from all sources of income, we were tithing twenty-one percent of our income to missions at Trinity Baptist Church. A multiple of three and seven, Brady had come to the conclusion that this was the perfect number. We saved an additional nineteen percent by funding our IRAs, 401k's, the Keogh’s for the businesses and then an additional amount went into life insurance and investments each month. Brady wanted to raise $2 Million for his vines.

My 40’s

                We were only in Asheville a few months when I hit the 40-milestone. While depressing, I look at people like Cindy Crawford, Jennifer Aniston and others, and I can see why folks say that “40 is the new 30”. I have even ordered Meaningful Beauty, have found a new stylist in Grady Parham on a recommendation from Mike’s wife, Joy. Brady began to flourish right away in the business and made over $30,000 in the first six months. This qualified us for a trip with all expenses paid to Paris in March, just after his birthday on the 7^th. We decided we would open the restaurant in April and the personal delivery business in August. Additionally, Brady and I vowed to give ourselves a few years to enjoy our marriage, each other, develop a stronger bond between ourselves and God, and TRAVEL!

                Asheville has much to offer in the way of food, so we began having “date nite” each Friday to begin to see how we could be different. Our concept was different, but we needed our food to be also. We began search for a chef. While Brady insisted that he come by the restaurant each nite at 5:30 PM, I also made him promise that he would be on the front steps of 377 Quill Gordon Court by 7. He reluctantly agreed, but did so knowing that he need to grow his financial planning firm thru Mutual of Omaha. The Oracle might come into town and request Brady to manage a few billion. One can dream, right?

                March came quickly and we boarded a plane going to JFK in New York and then on to Paris, France. I imagined eating the fresh pastries, drinking espresso in Palazzos throughout the city. It is the “City of Lights” after all, and I would have to do all the tourist attractions as well. There was the Louvre, the Eiffel Tower and of course the food and wine. This is where we would find Michelin Star chefs and wines that date back to the 1800's. I dreamed of drinking Sauternes with dessert and watching Brady enjoy a nitecap of Navan with a Cohiba cigar from the balcony of our hotel. Brady would have to attend a few meetings, of course, but he would mostly be free to browse the city with me. We would certainly take advantage of all Paris had to offer.

                The Michelin guide showed twenty-seven 3-star restaurants in Paris with many also being on the James Beard Award list. It would not be hard to find appropriate vittles, I surmised.

                While we were in Paris, one restaurant that I wanted to visit was that of Jose Andres’. A Spanish chef, he was trained classically, and not by trade. He had become the biggest proponent of the molecular food movement and was perhaps the second most renowned chef in the world at the time, behind the infamous Thomas Kelleher. I had never been to Napa, and I had never been to the French Laundry; but Brady and I vowed that we would make reservations and travel there the following year.

               

                Both Guy Savoy and Jose Andres’ (Ceasar’s Palace) had opened restaurants in Las Vegas. For some odd reason, the revitalization of “America’s Playground” had been successfully courting chefs for nearly ten years; and they were coming without precaution in droves. Marcus Samuelson, Anthony Bourdain, Tyler Florence, Chef Morimoto, and others, just to name a few. It remained to be seen who Steve Wynn would court to be his “5-Star, All-Star”, but he was on the prowl. I imagine it will be someone who could entertain the Asian population, as he had also opened a new casino location in Macau as well. It would be someone that could deliver the appropriate cuisine for his clientele in both locations.

                

Wynn Hotel was the hottest on the strip at this time. Brady and I had even been looking on Travelocity and Trivago for last minute deals to Vegas with a flight and hotel option just to visit Wynn Casino, Steve’s hallmark property. I mean, I’m not sure how he found a prime location on the strip and managed to raise a $2 Billion behemoth in a matter of months; but, if anyone can do it, it is Steve Wynn. He was perhaps the best businessman on the planet. Polished, mercenary, intelligent and with the sole intent on making large amounts of profits for himself and his shareholders. Arguably, Warren Buffett is the smartest businessman on the planet, followed by the late Steve Jobs, the Visionary; Larry Ellison of Oracle and also Bill and Melinda Gates, who are now philanthropists instead of the sole owners of Microsoft.

                Brady and I would not find any deals, so we decided that we would just pay a fair price to visit Wynn in the near future.

                The Louvre in Paris was perhaps my favorite, the Eiffel Tower came in as a close second, and the food and wine….well, a tie for first. It was only a 6-day, 5-night vacation, but we managed to cram as much into that vacation as we could. It was also like a second honeymoon.

                April came quickly and soon would be time for rainy days and May flowers. We were doing some landscaping around our home. We had purchased quite the home at $650,000 and it had become our single largest asset. I intended to run the restaurant for a few years, sell it, and then we had plans to again sell Brady’s practice and move to Walla Walla, Washington; as Brady’s ideal job is to become a Master of Wine, Sommelier at least at some level, and operate wineries and a B & B in both Walla Walla, Washington and Mendoza Argentina. Both were up and coming AVA’s, and we wanted to purchase the land and capture the rise in market prices even before we bottled a single run of vino.

                We called the restaurant “Cibo”. It is an Italian name, but we planned to offer cuisine from all different styles from all over the world. Local fish from the South, Europe and Argentina. Brady decided that he would prepare the wine list and also pick the pairings for the three-course meal each night. At first, he was not making it home till about 7:30 PM, but with a few tongue lashings, he managed to begin to make it home by 7. The way our restaurant was set up, even the chefs and servers were finished at a decent hour. And as you may or may not know, most people in the restaurant industry are also purveyors of fine wine and spirits, and tend to imbibe too much as well. But a short schedule from 4:00 PM to perhaps between 10 – 11 PM, would keep them on their toes and allow them time to rest each day; and nite if they so chose, and to return to work the following day.

                The summer was short and August came quickly. We began turning a profit on the restaurant in September, and the goal was to use the profits from the restaurant and the personal delivery service to purchase the land and begin planting grapes in February the following year in Mendoza. Then grapes would be planted in May in Walla Walla.

                

I came to appreciate Brady’s business acumen. While I mentioned earlier that his father was an engineer, numbers was Brady’s main focus. He knew how to turn a dollar into ten. The personal delivery service became profitable within the first three weeks as we had no overhead. We used our own vehicles initially and within three months Brady was able to buy cars for the business. We paid our employees by the hour and gave them bonuses for scheduling their own runs. It seemed like everything was falling into place.

                

Brady had taken in $12 Million in assets in his financial planning practice in the first twelve months. Not unheard of, but certainly a valiant effort was made, and the plans he placed in motion came to fruition. In addition to that, he had written quite a bit of insurance in the months of October to December 15, as that is the open enrollment period for Medicare Supplement and Part D prescription drug insurance. Obamacare had changed the rules in the insurance business, and was basically hamstringing the economy from an insurance prospective.

                Notwithstanding, Brady was building a large practice at a rapid pace. I was running the restaurant and we had three cars and six employees for the personal delivery business. Brady projected that we would make about $750,000 that year and the goal was to pay off the house and be free and clear of all encumbrances and debt. The Bible says, that it is not good to owe. And with over 650 monetary biblical principle in the Great Book, Brady intended to follow each one to the letter. Brady began to focus his practice on single women and widows. He even purchased a limousine to pick up the widows in his book of business to get them to their appointments and even additional appointments around town. He had taken this idea of a personal delivery service to the next level. Because of this level of service, the widows in his business grew in droves. Additionally, for the younger single women; focusing on divorcees and those that were single and needed financial advice, he started a seminar series based on the popular book, “Smart Women Finish Rich”. Written by an author by the name of David Bach, he covers financial principles designed especially for women. While diversity has certainly helped women in the workforce, they still earn approximately thirty percent less than men in the same level, or position of employment. Whoever said that life isn’t fair was absolutely correct, and that is the singular reason why I wanted to cease my employment with Crook & Chase and become and entrepreneur.

                

After pictures, a light snack was served. Brady was the one to choose this course and of all things chose sushi. California, Philly and Salmon rolls. He had paired it with a nice Riesling from the Mosul region of Germany. At 3:15 PM, I prepared myself to walk down the aisle. The infamous “Canon in “D”, “played and the guests stood to their feet as my father walked me down the aisle. It may have been a second time, but this time was special. As mentioned previously, the weather could not have been more perfect.

The bride; me that is, wore a 1950s vintage dress that was purchased locally in Charleston. The men were outfitted in Khaki pants, a blue and white French cuff shirt, and finally a green and blue striped tie with the covering of a Navy Blue Sport Coat. Brady’s gift for the men had been there outfits, and he even purchased shoes from Aldo for all five.

As I continued down the aisle, the eyes began to focus from back to front as I was going to meet Brady in front of all to see. All was quiet as we exchanged our vows. Halfway thru, we paused for a song and John Legend’s “All of Me” filled the air with the most pleasant musical sound I have ever heard. The vows were quick it seemed, and Scott did an appropriate job of officiating. He spoke a lot about faith and love, both appropriate subjects for us and our wedding nuptials. Corinthians 13 was mentioned as was the faith chapter, Hebrews 11.

A short ceremony was conducted, a song played, and soon after; a long silence before a loud, thundering “Hooray” from the crowd and clapping could be heard for what seemed like a country mile. Rice was not thrown as it harms the birds. Instead, we gave away favors of Andes candies. Chocolate is something that everyone enjoys anyway; and it is an aphrodisiac; Blamo! However, the flowers were thrown and Dad has purchased a beautiful bouquet for me.

The people had set up a tent with hanging lanterns at the corners and underneath on hanging string. Tables were outfitted with both a royal blue and white table linen. Orchids garnished every centerpiece and there was a different variety for each to take home. The dinner was five different types of barbeque that had spent the day underground roasted in a fire pit, and then prepared in the five different ways by a master chef. Additionally, there was Prime Rib or Rib Eyes for beef lovers and Chilean Sea Bass for those who will not eat beef or pork. Not saying they come from the wrong side of the tracks, but who doesn’t eat beef and pork.

We laughed, we danced, we sag, we ate, and we imbibed. A good time was had by all. We raised nearly $350 on the “dollar dance”, and as everyone wanted to dance with the new bride. I on the other hand, only had a few dance with me. My mother, Stephanie’s mother, and a few ladies from the bridal party. Stephanie, on the other hand had a multitude of people standing in line for the opportunity to take a spin. We had to play three songs for her line to get to zero.

We would soon be heading out to our honeymoon destination. I was excited and would be surprised, as this is something that Brady had picked on his own. I would not know the destination until we arrived, and I had planned to sleep on the plane, or in the car; as I knew not whether we were flying or driving to our final destination.

We landed several hours later, and I did sleep. As we loaded our bags into a Jeep, there was island music playing. Neither Brady nor I had been here, but I knew I was in for an adventure. We were to stay eight days and seven nights, but Brady would talk me into a few more before it was all over. Bora Bora was the place. It even sounded magical. After all, I was just happy to be a new bride. I couldn’t wait to see what life would hold with Brady. And even though Graham had inherited a large sum of money from his father who died prematurely, I would never reap the benefits from any of it; and I truly believe that even the security of the money never had any emotional impact on him personally.

We checked into the Thalasso Spa, Bora Bora, at about Noon. The water was as clear as I had ever seen. You could see fish below swimming as if it was the cleanest water in the world. Sadly, they looked healthier than me in their own environment. The hotel was essentially thatched-roof huts that fanned out into the ocean in a geometrically sound shape. If this was not the picture of Japanese or Chinese health; whichever you want to apply, I do not know what was. All of our Chakras were right, and nothing was wrong.

Brady had scheduled a couple’s massage for 3:00 PM the first day. On beds overlooking the ocean at the top of a mountaintop at Nui Resort and Spa, I watched the gentle ocean waves crash against the 800 meters of white shoreline while a French Polynesian man relieved Brady and I from all of our stress; not that there was much to be had in a place like this. Similar to the first time I married, I was wondering about our guests, but I knew that my father and mother would ensure that a good time was had by all. For some reason, I had brought my iPod and I was listening to John Legends CD as this man with wonderful hands worked on me for about an hour. He started with a very simple Swedish massage technique and moved quickly into deep tissue. At the end, he would again finish in a gentle style, with essential oils and lotion to make my skin smooth and fresh. I began to wonder what our first meal in French Polynesia might be, and I was hungry after the long journey.

We had reservations at Villa Mahana the first night. It continued on the theme of majestic. As we ate, a classical and contemporary type of music with a heavenly vibe filled the air. This was no “run of the mill” eaterie. The white tablecloths adorned the table and the chairs we were ushered into were French-styled wingbacks which seemed to have the patina of a bygone era. The glasses for water has a blue rim that fired for about an inch from the top. One could notice that they were made by cutting the top off of a wine bottle and were shaped and colored by a master craftsman. The wine glasses were appropriately Reidel, and there were paintings that covered the walls. Most were a contemporary style that paid homage to the Roman-style, as most of the figurines were a little distorted from the wide paintbrush and showed nudity.

The chef had studied in France and was classically trained in Paris. If the wine list was any indication, I felt sure that a sommelier was retained. Brady and I both opted for the same meal and ordered a bottle of Guigal for sipping. Rare Tuna steak garnished with a few blackberries with a side of Bibb lettuce finely dressed with a pineapple citrus marinade instead of a dressing. This was no ordinary Tuna. The chef had sent out a complimentary appetizer and later visited our table to recommend the Tuna. It was freshly caught just two hours before preparation by a local fisherman. He was paid daily for the daily catch. Sometimes I wish I had a job so simple and so easy. It would be a wonderful thing to know that I was delivering the famous French Polynesian fish each day at the market price.

Brady knew that I had a concept for a restaurant at some point that I would open in my life. Thirty-two place settings each evening and one appetizer, entre and dessert. When the reservations are booked, the show is over. It would give time for the chefs to plan a daily menu that would always be local and fresh. As a woman growing up watch my Father work his guts out, I decided that I would take a softer approach to work, but still retain the work ethic that he had taught me. As we dined, I talked about the opportunity to Graham as I had about had my fill of “Crook & Chase”. We would be treated like royalty no doubt, and we ate like the King and Queen of England throughout the week. Brady thought the opportunity interesting, as there was not such a concept in Roanoke. Neither of us had any strong ties to home, except for my parents that I saw religiously on Saturday and Sunday, so we also talked about a move to Asheville. I could start the restaurant, and Brady could either sell his book of business, or retain it as an annuity and visit Virginia once a week to service his client base there.

Within two weeks of returning from vacation, we decided to pick up stakes and move. I was thirty-nine when we became Ashevillians, and I was happy to begin a new life in a new home with Graham. We took a few short visits to see where we might like to live and landed in the same community as Brady’s friend, entrepreneur Mike Lintz. It was called Biltmore Lake. Our new address would be 377 Quill Gordon Court, Biltmore Lake, NC 28715.

Mom,

We have started a beautiful new life in Asheville. Brady was offered quite a price to sell his practice so we decided to do so and put the money toward our home. It is not fully paid for, but we have plenty of equity as a security blanket. Brady has joined Mutual of Omaha, and he says it is the strongest compensation plan he has ever seen in the financial services business.

It is Saturday, and today I will hang a clothesline in the back yard whether the neighbors like it or not. It is getting chilly here in the evenings, and the days shorter and shorter, but I am happy to report that my laundry will still be done as we have always done it on Saturdays; as it is a tradition I will never break.

In addition to Brady’s new employment, we are opening a restaurant. Brady also has an idea for a personal delivery service, but that remains to be seen how the details will come together. In “Beer City”, I feel sure the concept will catch on quickly.

Your daughter, with Love,

Stephanie