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.