I took my first cruise this year, and everything went swimmingly. Since it was a music cruise with some of my favorite songwriters, I didn’t have a hard time getting acclimated, and making friends was easy. However, I’d offer these tips to anybody about to embark for the first time:

Save money for excursions. Off-boat adventures can be steep. I visited the Mayan ruins of Tulum on Playa del Carmen, rented a jeep in Grand Cayman and biked and dived in Jamaica — setting me back $254. I don’t regret it, but I wish I’d known to save a little bit more cash. My excursions to Cozumel, Grand Cayman and Jamaica didn’t allow time for leisurely shopping, so if that’s your thing, skip the guided tours away from the dock.

Talk to people. With so many specialty cruises offered, you may already have something special in common with your fellow passengers. If somebody looks friendly, walk up and say, “Did you enjoy the entertainment last night?” If they’re on an excursion with you, that’s an easy conversation topic when you cross paths with them later on the boat.

Formal night is optional. I packed a nice suit, which I wore only once to dinner. Meanwhile, some of my new friends just ate at the upstairs buffet in their swimsuits. I should have saved that room in my suitcase and brought back some more Tortuga rum cakes. Oh well. My cruise was probably more informal than others, so look into the standard attire on deck before you go.

Turn off the cell phone. It’s just like the good old days when the people behind you in the coffee line aren’t yammering away. Also, do not rely on your cell phone as a timepiece. Excursions run on ship time, but some phones automatically adjust to whatever time zone you’re in. Wear a wristwatch for the accurate time, because if you’re an hour late getting to the dock, the boat will be long gone.

Tift Merritt is sure to be traveling a lot this year, touring behind her brand new album, Another Country. To keep the creative juices flowing on the road, she has taken up a new hobby – photography.

“I became interested because I’m a fan. I think the same as songs can create a world or tell a story, photography can too,” says Merritt, who nabbed a Grammy nomination for best country album for Tambourine.

“I need something creative to do on the road, but I need it to not be about myself. It’s really important to get outside of yourself when you’re going to a Tift show every night, so it was really wonderful for me to wander around and take photos,” she says. “I think it’s really important to speak without words sometimes. I will get words stuck in my head to the point where I can’t sleep, so this was a great way for me to get outside of that. I’m a great admirer of visual art and visual artists — and I’m jealous that I can’t do it myself. So this is the one way, because I have no eye-hand to paper coordination. I’ve figured out how to do it with a camera.”

Armed with a 35 mm Canon and a Holga, Merritt is focusing her talent on capturing the moments on her life. Indeed, she has surrounded herself with beautiful surroundings lately – she vacationed in Paris after her last tour, then recorded the new album in Los Angeles. A native of North Carolina, she now lives in New York City. Clearly, she’s hard to pin down, and that elusive trait is evident in her pictures as well.

“If the photograph turns out well like I hoped it would, there’s a feeling of feeling invisible that is really nice,” she says. “That’s what that person looks like, this is what they gave me and I just kind of got out of their way and caught it to show it to somebody else.”

See photos by Tift Merritt.

Not that long ago, most Americans thought of yoga as an obscure practice, the province of health nuts and quirky hippies. Athletes and cardio-junkies never considered yoga serious exercise.
 
How times have changed! Yoga is now one of the most popular forms of exercise in the country. If you still think yoga is a lot of sitting around in pretzel positions and chanting, with very little heart-pounding or sweating, you don’t know yoga.

“I believe the biggest challenge [in yoga] is just getting the courage to try something different or new,” says Kristian Bush of Sugarland. “Try to forget the stereotype in your mind. Yoga is for everyone — children, athletes, moms, dads, accountants, truck drivers, even country stars.”
 
He’s right. LeAnn Rimes, Little Big Town’s Phillip Sweet and Bush’s bandmate Jennifer Nettles are just a few of the major believers in the benefits of yoga, including increased strength and flexibility, stress relief, and improved overall fitness.

“I’ve been doing yoga for about nine years,” says Shannon Wright, of The Wrights. “I can honestly say that it is my favorite type of exercise. It’s a ‘one-stop-shop.’ You’re working out your mind, body and spirit. I walk away feeling stronger, more focused and with more energy every time I practice. What more could you ask for in a workout routine?”

If yoga seems too tame for you, maybe you haven’t taken the right classes. Some are gentle Hatha-style yoga, and others are variations of the more vigorous Vinyasa style. Ashtanga yoga is fast-paced, and is sometimes the basis for “power yoga” classes. There are dozens of variations of these, mixing different styles or combining yoga with Pilates or some other exercise. Every yoga instructor is different, using his or her own eclectic mix of poses at his or her own pace. If you sample a few, you’re bound to find one that meets your needs, including weight loss, if that’s your goal.
 
“The change in my body was quite a surprise,” says Bush. “I have the waist size back that I had in college, and the mental benefit is tremendous. To take an hour or even a half-hour every day helps to keep my mind clear and make space for new things.”

“Yoga is great for me on many levels, not only as a way to stay in shape on the road, but also as a great way to meditate,” says Sweet. “I started doing it in earnest about three years ago and have never looked back. It takes great strength and balance to hold the positions, and it also requires you to still your mind, your breath, and stretch at the same time. It is challenging, and I can do it almost anywhere.”

Read more about Sugarland and yoga.

Do you have a closet full of clothes that never seem to look quite right on you? It could be that you’ve never really discovered your own personal style, the look that suits you perfectly. Finding your style is not rocket science, it just requires a little experimenting.
 
Try several different looks — including accessories — and take a photo of yourself. You’d be surprised at how different you look in a photo compared to your mirror. Which styles look best on you? Which make you most comfortable? Are you over-doing the jewelry? If you don’t like what you see, you know you need to tweak some more.
 
Hillary Scott of Lady Antebellum has used the photo trick to check out different outfits, and is a believer in experimenting with lots of styles.

“The best advice I could give is when you see a trend change or something happen that is really popular, go to stores like Charlotte Russe and Forever 21. They’re extremely reasonable, very good prices on everything,” she says. “Just experiment. If you want to try that trend, get it. Just don’t spend a lot of money on it. See if you feel comfortable with it. That’s what I would do when I was in high school and college — like when the skinny-jeans-and-high-heels trend came through, I bought a pair of skinny jeans and a pair of heels, and I went out one night and tried to work it and feel comfortable. Be fearless. Go out with the girls and take pictures, and when you see yourself in the pictures and you’re not so sure, at least you can say you tried it!”

First, take a look at yourself. Are you more traditional, or do you love to take risks? Do you glam up with lots of makeup, or do you like the more natural look? These can be clues to the kind of clothes you feel most comfortable in.
 
What’s your best body part, or the thing you like most about yourself? Is it your shapely legs, your rounded hips, your long neck? If you dress to play up that part, you’ll feel more confident. Conversely, if you have super-short legs, you might want to avoid miniskirts with flats, even if that is the hot look of the moment.
 
If you get confused looking at all those clothes on the racks, look through magazines and find a celebrity whose style you like. Don’t copy their look exactly, since you don’t want to look like a stalker. Just take their style and add unique touches to make it your own.

I grew up on instant grits. It was all I knew, all that was around. We had our ways of making them taste good — with plenty of butter, salt and pepper, of course. I also was taught to stir my grits around with egg yolk or gravy – the creamy kind with sausage, or red eye from your country ham. Leftover grits were the best. They could be shaped into little patties and fried in bacon grease the next day.
 
Disliking grits would have been about like disliking air. A Southerner depended on grits for sustenance as well as a form of tribal bonding. If Yankees didn’t like grits, it was because the poor things just didn’t understand them. I heard that Yankees even tried to put sugar in grits. Bless their hearts.

Cheese grits was a really fancy dish that Mama baked in Pyrex. She used a special processed garlic cheese that I got to squeeze out of a tube. It melted luxuriously amongst the grits, and made a delightful golden crust when it was broiled. Mama served it for special brunches with creamed eggs and mushrooms.

It was in the early 1970’s that I first tasted “real” grits – grits that actually tasted a bit like corn. Daddy had a friend with a cabin in the Smoky Mountains. My family used to drive through Cades Cove, marveling at the rugged beauty. We walked through graveyards where five or six small, worn tombstones, each with the image of a lamb and the same last name, told the story of tragic lives, shaped by disease, fire, and faith. The drive culminated with a stop at the Mill. Powered by water, the stones ground some wheat, but mainly corn. It was hard to grow wheat in the hollers. Corn did better – and it kept the folks alive.

We bought some grits at that mill – not instant and no picture of a smiling Quaker on the front. The difference was apparent in all five senses – flecks of color, course grains, a corn-like aroma, and a taste that was… well, it was something, and it was something all on its own. Without the gravy and cheese, there was still a depth of flavor, like the rocky soil from which it came. You could even hear the difference in the yummy sounds from people gathered at the table.

We continued to buy those grits a couple of times a year. I grew up and became a chef. I moved away to places where “grits” sounded exotic and customers loved buying them from “that little Southern girl.” Grits – the instant kind since it was all I could get — and I were both novelties. When I moved home, I could not give away a single grit. My fancy customers yearned to distance themselves from their gritty Southern past. So I tricked them. I called it “polenta” – an Italian form of cornmeal mash, and the same customers lapped them up.

Somewhere along the road, two changes have occurred. It is finally OK – cool even – to be Southern. Country ham, bourbon, and grits are no longer things we deprive ourselves of, in a futile effort to be more “like them.” We can eat our grits with public. The other change is a natural development – a desire to “out-Southern” one another. No one wants instant grits with a picture of a goofy-looking man with long white hair in a funny hat from God-knows-where. We want REAL grits, and the demand has lead to a much wider availability of stone-ground grits from small mills, where the corn is grown locally. Finally, grits that I am proud to serve to folks who really want it. Some may call it “gritsploitation.” I just call it payback.

The tour guide at one of the area distilleries told us that Kentucky is known for three things – bluegrass, horses and bourbon. I dearly love the first one (the music, not the actual grass), don’t know much about the second one, and have been known to forget stuff because of the third one. Still, if you ever find yourself in Louisville, Ky., you can easily add to that to-do list.

First, look for Bardstown Road, the hip strip in town. You’ll find several interesting bars and restaurants along the strip, like Cumberland Brews, which uses the foam from the brewing process to make chocolate malt ice cream. Mmmmm! If you’d rather enjoy something hot, drop into one of the numerous Heine Bros. Coffee shops and blend in with the locals. The independent music store Ear X-Tacy is a landmark; check the bulletin board to find out what’s going on around town.

Not far from Bardstown Road is one of my all-time favorite places to eat, Lynn’s Paradise Café. It’s as if a crazy lady named Lynn took over a Cracker Barrel and decided to play disco music and serve cocktails. Outrageous colors, hideous lamps, hearty meals and a memorable gift shop – anybody could be comfortable at Lynn’s. I once met a friend there for breakfast, and we shared about eight plates between us, mostly sides, because we simply couldn’t narrow down the choices. I have to order cheese grits wherever I go.

For a unique photo op, get your picture taken at the visitor’s center with a very realistic statue of Kentucky Fried Chicken founder, Colonel Sanders. Savor a Hot Brown sandwich at the Brown Hotel, where it was invented. I’m not into antiques, but I make an exception for Joe Ley Antiques, with several floors of treasures on the edge of downtown. Many hotels can be found in the heart of the city, along with the Louisville Slugger Museum and the Muhammad Ali Center, for sports fans. Runners can pick up part of the course for the Louisville marathon and half-marathon at the riverfront.

If you’ve got a car, don’t miss the Maker’s Mark distillery, in nearby Loretto, Ky. It’s beautiful out there, and one of the most informative and intriguing tours I’ve ever taken. Did you know the red wax was a woman’s idea? And that every single bottle is hand-dipped? That’s something you won’t soon forget.

What happens when your hobby catapults you into an amazing and lucrative career? How would life change if you struck it rich, hit the big-time and found yourself transformed into a major star?

For Lori McKenna, 39, who writes and performs country anthems for penny-stretching women, the greatest dividend of unexpected fortune has simply been relief from worry. Sure, this mother of five, who dropped out of community college because she didn’t feel comfortable being a pregnant student, has traded up to a bigger house in her sleepy hometown of Stoughton, Mass. Plus, she swapped her Ford Windstar for a Toyota Sienna. But furs and Ferraris are not even in the mix.

Lori and her husband, Gene, “aren’t really motivated by money. Family is more important to them than anything else,” explains Lori’s father, Frank Giroux, 73, who lives nearby.

DIY Dollar Saving

With some edits, [her song “Unglamorous“] pretty much reflects the warmth and chaos of the McKenna household. Lori, who last year traded up to a 10-year-old, 2,800-square-foot colonial home in Stoughton, still does three loads of wash a day and scrubs the toilets of the four bathrooms. (”I’m not good at outsourcing,” she concedes.)

Her friends shiver under the refrigerator-like conditions of the new McKenna manse, but having lived in a modest house with a wood-burning stove, she says with a laugh, “I acclimated to the cold. We still keep the heat at 65 degrees!” The family is more likely to eat courtesy of Lori’s six-quart Crock-Pot than to indulge in filet mignon or other fancy food. “I can make a beef stew in that thing that will feed us for three nights,” she brags.

Lori is aided and abetted in thriftiness by her husband, Gene, who goes through the big new house unscrewing the recessed lights he deems superfluous. Lori, her father confides, is “pretty good” at saving and managing money, but Gene “is even better.”

Lori had hoped that the sudden income torrent her career triggered would lift the breadwinner weight off Gene’s shoulders, “but he still worked 75 hours of overtime last year” at the gas company where he is employed, says Lori. “That’s two weeks! He’s just a worker.”

For the complete article, check out the March 4 issue of Quick & Simple magazine or visit quickandsimple.com.

It’s cold season. At some point during the winter, nearly everyone picks up a case of the sniffles. Maybe that’s why there are so many old wives’ tales about how you catch — and cure — a cold.

According to experts, it’s not the cold weather that causes a cold, it’s a virus — usually a type of rhinovirus. Colds spread one of two ways: through the air by coughing or sneezing, or by contact with saliva from an infected person (by touching the person or a surface that person has touched). You can’t get a cold from getting wet or having cold feet. It could be that colds are more common in winter because being in close quarters with others who might be infected makes it easier for colds to spread.

But don’t discount everything your grandmother told you. Science has shown that some old-fashioned remedies do relieve cold symptoms. Chicken soup, for example — the warm liquid encourages airway secretions and helps break up mucus. Garlic contains allicin, which really can act as a decongestant. Steam has been shown to liquefy and loosen mucus, relieving congestion and coughs.

Still, there’s no real cure for a cold, so the best tactic is prevention. One of the best ways to avoid catching a cold is to wash your hands often, with soap and water, for at least 20 seconds. (Kids are often told to sing “Happy Birthday” twice while washing, to ensure they scrub their hands long enough.) Remember, colds are caused by viruses, not bacteria, so antibacterial soap works no better than regular soap at preventing them. Similarly, antibiotics do not help with cold symptoms. Unless you develop an infection, don’t take antibiotics when you have a cold. That could contribute to building up an antibiotic resistance, which could make the drugs less effective when you do get an infection. How about a nice bowl of chicken soup instead?

A friend of Austin-based visual artist William Stidham was hounding him to paint Willie Nelson, but he wouldn’t relent – until she surprised him with a copy of The Tao of Willie. He read the book that weekend and promptly changed his mind. His watercolor portrait of Nelson ultimately became the first in his Sacred Heart series.

“What I really wanted to symbolize in that initial painting was all the heart that Willie brings to his life and the world he touches,” Stidham says.

He painted Nelson in four colors: red, black, the white of the watercolor paper and gold gauche. And after the painting was complete, he felt inspired to throw water on it. “When I finished that Sacred Heart of Willie, I nearly had an out of body experience. I mean, I was literally shaking. I knew I had done something different and very important to me,” he says. “The next day I was so excited that I took the painting to work. One of my co-workers started crying. I knew that I had touched something much deeper with this painting, and with this idea.”

Two years later, the Sacred Heart series now features Johnny Cash, Elvis Presley, Merle Haggard, Waylon Jennings and Hank Williams, along with numerous rock ‘n’ roll and religious figures. He’s now exhibiting at music festivals, restaurants and a gallery in Santa Fe, N.M. Still, because Stidham grew up in a family that loved Willie Nelson’s music, that first portrait still resonates. Because he works at the Austin radio station KGSR, Stidham had the opportunity to present Nelson with the first reproduction of the painting face-to-face.

“I learned something very important that moment: Willie Nelson is the most centered, in-the-moment person I have ever met. When he looks at you, he looks directly into you, and that particular moment is the only moment that matters to him. Very deep. Very touching. Very present,” Stidham recalls.

“Before I showed it to him, I told him the whole story of where I was, how I did it, what it had meant to me, where it was leading me. I then showed it to him,” he continues. “His eyes teared up. It was a very powerful moment. Just look at me in that picture. I look like I’m floating out of my body.”

“Paminna Cheese”… The words just trickle off your tongue, like the name of a good-hearted temptress in a honky-tonk song. Enunciated precisely, pimento cheese sounds about as dumb as the ignorant elite who scoff at the proudly Southern concoction of grated cheese, mayonnaise and chopped pimento peppers.

In defense of the uninitiated, perhaps they have only had, or can only imagine, a packaged tub of processed junk, which mysteriously lasts way too long on the not-so-sparkling shelves of a truck-stop market. My mother tried to make me eat that stuff, too, usually during exam week (she taught English) when she was too distracted to cook, and she thought I wouldn’t notice the difference. Well, I noticed. I learned how to make PC myself. It’s certainly not difficult, and like a fresh pair of blue jeans and a clean white shirt, paminna cheese will get you through life deliciously in style.

Case in point: I’m living in the Virgin Islands, my friends and I have been sailing, imbibing a festive variety of beverages for the greater part of the day. We’re on dry land, and its time to eat. The village of Coral Bay has one ghastly-overpriced “supermarket” whose shelves are all but bare (save for some fascinating dried cod which my friends won’t let me buy). I ask you, what three items is this market certain to have? A jar of mayonnaise, a chunk of yellow Cheddar cheese, and a jar of Spanish olives. There are always olives in harbor towns, because there are always martinis. On that fateful day, I was not after the olive itself, but that with which the olive was stuffed: a speck of cherry red pimento pepper. Disregarding my Yankee friends’ skepticism (at least I wasn’t buying the dried fish) I scooped up the aforementioned mayonnaise, yellow cheddar, and Spanish stuffed olives, along with a bag of potato chips.

Back on board the boat, I wasted no time in mixing up an island-time version of my beloved PC, which, by the way, my friends had never even heard of. They did instantly fall in love with my amazing Cheddar Olive Spread which we that day scooped up with chips until the chips were gone and we literally licked the bowl clean.

Fast forward several years down the road…. What’s on the menu at Martha’s at the Plantation? Why it’s Cheddar Olive Spread, my own particular hybrid of a very lowbrow Southern classic. Now I use a Tennessee-made extra sharp white cheddar, and I add a dash of cayenne for a little extra kick. I serve it with homemade crackers (it’s divine if you heat it, just till it melts), on artisan bread from a fancy bakery, or stuffed into celery and served with Champagne. But it’s still paminna cheese, and it still tastes good.