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Horsin’ Around

August 3, 2016 By Keswick Life

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Olympic Bound Locals, Saddle Seat World Cup and More…

By Keswick Life

Olympic Bound

Allison Brock and Rosevelt, a 13-year-old Hanoverian stallion owned by long-time Brooke USA patrons Fritz and Claudine Kundrun will compete with Team USA in Dressage at the Rio Olympics. Brock and Rosevelt made their name on the national stage with a stellar performance at Dressage at Devon in 2014, earning double wins that foreshadowed their future success. Since then, they continued to make a name for themselves with multiple victories during the highly competitive winter season in Wellington, Florida. During their 2016 European tour they were consistent and scored well, earning themselves a spot on the U.S. Olympic team from a very competitive field. The Rio Olympics will be the first major championship team competition for Brock and Rosevelt.

Hyperion Stud owner, Vicky Castegren recently announced that her prized stallion Imothep, has been short-listed for competition at the 2016 Rio de Janeiro Olympics, under Japanese rider and 5 time Olympian, Taizo Sugitani. A very joyous Vicky Castegren, said “I never thought that when I dreamed about qualifying for the Olympics it would be like this. As a rider I dreamed of it for myself, but as an owner I did not even conceive of it. Yet here I am almost astonished that after this wild ride we have all been on, we can legitimately say we have arrived. I am overjoyed with having the honor of being surrounded by such an incredible team who has brought us to this point, and I hope we are given the opportunity to represent each and every one of the people who have helped us along the way.”“I have had the honor of representing my home country in five previous Olympics, and have an extremely bright outlook for what we are bringing to the upcoming Olympics in Rio,” said Taizo. “I feel as though we are bringing a strong effort to Brazil, and the relationship between Imothep and myself is getting stronger and more comfortable as time goes on.”

Sugitani has represented Japan in individual competition during every summer Olympics since Atlanta in 1996, with his best result to date being tied for 15th in Athens during the 2004 Games. Additionally, Taizo has been a part of team competition in the 1996, 2000 and 2004 Games, with Japan’s best result of those years being 11th place at the 2000 Sydney Olympics. In addition to Taizo’s Olympic experience, he has remained quite remarkable, as he has earned two Bronze medals in the 2014 Asian Games, six appearances at the World Equestrian Games and twice appearing in the World Cup Finals. Sugitani is currently ranked #177 in the world, according to the Longines FEI Jumping Rankings.

Castegren added, “I am a true believer that everything happens as it should even though the path can be difficult. Each and every one of the talented people who have been a part of Imothep’s education over the years have brought us to where we are today. When I take a look back at what we have accomplished as a group, since I purchased Imothep as a 6 year old in 2009, I am completely humbled at the level of success we have attained to this point. It brings me an immense amount of pride and joy to see everyone involved, especially Imothep’s trainer Craig Yates, acknowledged in this way. This is the pinnacle we all dream of in some capacity.”

As the highest ranked Japanese show jumper, Taizo Sugitani has been named to the four person team for Japan. Also representing Japan, his teammates are Toshiki Masui, Reiko Takeda and Daisuke Fukushimo, with Koki Saito as a reservist.Chef d’equipe, Hirokazu Higashira is expected to release the official horse and rider combinations within the next couple of weeks, as teams make final preparations for their travels to Brazil in August. Rio de Janeiro Olympic equestrian showjumping competition will begin on August 14, 2016.

U.S. Saddle Seat World Cup Team Wins Gold/Silver

Stellenbosch, South Africa – The U.S. Saddle Seat World Cup Team traveled to South Africa to compete in the 2016 International Saddle Seat Equitation World Cup at the Mistico Equestrian Centre, July 7-9. The twelve U.S. athletes delivered excellent performances against teams from Canada, Namibia, and South Africa. Under the guidance of coaches David Cater (Dunbarton, N.H.), Pam Roush (Lutz, Fla.), and Kent Swalla (Columbia, Mo.), the Three-Gaited section won Gold and the coveted Three-Gaited World Cup trophy while the Five-Gaited section won Silver.

“We could not be more proud of the team as a whole and both the Three- and Five-Gaited teams had brilliant performances. More importantly, they came together as a team which made the whole event more meaningful.”The U.S. Team and supporters were thrilled with the final results announced at Saturday evening’s Award Ceremony. The Three-Gaited section of the U.S. Team received stellar scores to win its Gold medal with South Africa and Canada earning Silver and Bronze, respectively, and Namibia finishing in fourth.

The U.S. Three-Gaited section consisted of: Aleia Brown (Dayton, Ohio), Cameron Kay (W. Bloomfield, Mich.), Courtney McGinnis (Santa Barbara, Calif.), Faith Robbins (Carmel, Ind.), Kasey Saccocia (Halifax, Mass.)and Molly Codeanne (Wethersfield, Conn.)

In the Five-Gaited section, the U.S. Team rode well in the challenging competition to win the Silver medal with South Africa earning Gold and Canada collecting Bronze. The U.S. Five-Gaited section consisted of: Allie Poovey (Winston Salem, N.C.), Ashley Brandies (Jesup, Ga.), Ashley Stewart (Pfafftown, N.C.), Cailin Bridges (Salisbury, Mass.).Catherine Wheeler (Keswick, Va.), Rose Marie Wheeler (Anchorage, Ky.)

“It was amazing getting to represent my country and experience a new culture. Competing as a team in a normally individual sport was new but was a fulfilling experience. I am thankful that I got to compete with my fellow teammates, coaches and all involved in the World Cup”, said Catherine Wheeler.

Coleman Wins at Fitch’s Corner

Fitch’s Corner is the private farm of Fernanda Kellogg and Kirk Henckels, located on 150 acres in the heart of Millbrook hunt country. The 2016 Fitch’s Corner Horse Trials mark the 23rd Anniversary of a country weekend and horse competition, which competitors, enthusiasts, and the who’s who of Dutchess County simply don’t miss. The elegant setting, challenging courses, and wide array of associated activities attracts both amateur and Olympic competitors. Fitch’s Market offers more than 50 exhibitors selling items from fashions to home and accessories for horse and hound.

Fitch’s Food Court presents healthy and hearty fare in between the social events which include: the Blue Jean Ball Saturday night and the Spectator Luncheon, benefiting the Millbrook Fire Department and Rescue Squad on Sunday and featuring a Collector Car Show and Parade. The farm operates as a private horse boarding facility. They welcome the community to enjoy the Fitch’s Corner Horse Trials Weekend every July. The horse competition is the core activity of the weekend and, for three years in a row, has been the site of the United States Eventing Association Area 1 Northeast regional championships.

At the recent Fitch’s Corner Horse Trials sanctioned by the USEA and USET held on July 23 & 24, 2016, Beginner , Novice, Novice, Training, and Preliminary Divisions were offered. William Coleman III finished first on Butch Cassiday and second on Boris O’Hara. Photo by Mike Mandley Photography

Boys & Girls Clubs Visit Keswick Hunt Kennels

On Tuesday, June 28, Keswick Hunt Club welcomed a group of children from the Boys & Girls Clubs of Orange to their Clubhouse and Kennels in Albemarle County, Virginia. The youngsters first heard from whipper-in and historian Barclay Rives about the goals and planning involved in organized foxhunting. Nancy Wiley, MFH, a former board member of the Boys & Girls Clubs, encouraged the children to share their outdoor experiences and to be keen observers of nature and wild animals.These Boys & Girls Clubs participants quickly mastered the technique for holding their hound’s attention. Noted artist, Lee Gildea, continued this theme by displaying several of his works: paintings, carvings, and spectacular walking sticks formed from saplings twisted by honeysuckle or other vines (including one featuring whittled and painted likenesses of the Keswick pack). The children enjoyed examining the pieces and hearing Mr. Gildea explain that he began carving as a hobby while out in the woods waiting for hounds to come home.The visitors then followed Huntsman Tony Gammell into kennels, where they were enthusiastically greeted by this year’s adolescent puppies. Human and canine youngsters had a terrific time romping together and exchanging affectionate hugs and kisses. Eventually, Tony and kennelman Mike Poindexter, brought out several couples of adult hounds, and with a precautionary ratio of two children per hound (with several adults distributing biscuits and assistance as needed), the group went for a brief but energetic walk around the Keswick Horse Show grounds. All the guests had a newfound appreciation for the work involved in training and caring for hounds and some new inspiration to get outside and explore our natural world.

The Boys & Girls Clubs seek to “provide an after school and summer program for children and teens ages 6-18, comprised of diverse activities that meet the interests of all youth,” with the goal of “promoting and enhancing the development of boys and girls by instilling a sense of competence, usefulness, belonging and influence.” The Clubs in Orange, Virginia, have developed a nature trail adjacent to their building to encourage outdoor exploration and also visit different area farms as part of their enrichment programs.

Keswick Hunt, established in 1896, participates in several community outreach events through the year. The club has an active program for its junior members, the Keswick Cubs, including mounted, unmounted, and social activities. Staff planned to bring hounds to the Boys and Girls Clubs headquarters as a follow-up experience for the children shortly after this article was written.

2016 Sallie B. Wheeler/U.S. Hunter Breeding East Coast National Championship

Some of the best young horses in the country will come together in August at The Virginia Horse Center. The Virginia Young Horse Festival will proudly host the 2016 Sallie B. Wheeler/U.S. Hunter Breeding East Coast National Championship at the Virginia Horse Center on Saturday, August 27. Highlights will include the East Coast Best Young Horse Championship class, a party Saturday night at 5:00 p.m. in celebration of the Sallie B. Wheeler Hunter Breeding Championship. Several USEF Championship trophies will be awarded on Saturday including The Dave Kelley Perpetual trophy which will be awarded to the Overall Grand Hunter Breeding Champion. The J. Arthur Reynolds trophy, awarded to the breeder of the Overall Grand Hunter Breeding Champion, and The Foxwick Farm Perpetual Trophy awarded to the leading Thoroughbred. On Friday August 26, the Horse Center will be host to a C rated breeding show as part of the Virginia Young Horse Festival.

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What’s Cooking: Keswickian Joins Forces to Launch Upscale Catering Company

August 3, 2016 By Keswick Life

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By Keswick Staff

Keswickian Ashley Sieg Williams and Chef Brice Cunningham have joined forces to launch Absolute Cuisine, an upscale catering company that is ready to wow you and your guests with innovative, Michelin Star-worthy dishes. Ashley draws from years of restaurant and catering experience from Paris to New York to San Francisco, and Chef Brice has a star-studded pedigree which includes training under Alain Ducasse in Paris as well as cooking in top kitchens from Monaco to Las Vegas. The two can do intimate dinners in your home for family and friends, or larger receptions for up to 125 guests. Their approach has a certain joie de vivre element, while also being incredibly professional with great attention to detail.

A recent bridesmaid’s luncheon for twenty-two left the ladies aflutter after being charmed by the handsome chef and swooning over the chilled gazpacho and salmon tartar over quinoa, while a recent elegant summer dinner featured a five course dinner for 35 guests (see menu below), including such hors d’oeuvres as “Oyster Spoon” and “Avocado Bruschetta.” Guests could be overheard remarking that it was “simply the best food (they had) had in years, including in New York or Chicago!” For contact details, visit www.absolutecuisinecville.com.

Summer Dinner Menu

Salmon Tartare with Tomato Sorbet
Seared Scollops with Roasted Pickled Beets and Green Salad
Lobster Carpaccio over Oyster Gelée
Rack of Lamb with Minted Pea Purée, Cauliflower, Red Pepper Coulis
Dessert — Chocolate Tart with Plum Jam and Vanilla Ice Cream

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Only in Keswick: I Married a Garden Club

August 2, 2016 By Keswick Life

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By Tony Vanderwarker

At first I thought, “What could be wrong with it?” Annie loves flower arranging and is good at it, why shouldn’t she join a group of ladies with a similar interest? What could be the downside of signing up with a couple and hanging with fellow flower fans?

What I discovered is that garden clubs are like crack cocaine. You try a little bit and before you know it you’re hooked. In no time the garage is jammed with tables covered with greenery, containers, hunks of driftwood and a million other bits and pieces of flower arranging detritus. Flowers are flying in from Florida and boxes of containers and Oasis arrive from Amazon. You have to perform an acrobatic ballet to get from the car into the house.

“I’ll clean it up after the Daffodil Show,” she promises. But then comes the Lily Show, then the presentation to the club in Norfolk followed by the one in Winchester. Instead of getting cleaner, the garage turns into an obstacle course. One false move and after tripping over a hidden flower bucket you’re flat on your keyster.

“I know it’s a mess but I just have to get through these next three shows and then I’ll get to it. And by the way, I have a delivery coming tomorrow with a bunch of stuff I’ve ordered and I’m going to be up in Orange so could you take care of it for me?”

The delivery turns out to be seven five-foot long boxes that have to be hustled in from the cold, opened and the flowers have to be “processed”. Processing is like a booster rocket for flowers, dousing them in water and adding a couple jiggers of plant food to restore them to their original condition.

So I’m impressed into the garden club as a temporary guest worker, opening the seven boxes, unpacking the flowers, unwrapping them, making fresh cuts in all the stems, stripping off excess foliage and immersing them in water sweetened with flower preservative.

As I’m processing, it occurs to me that all these flowers were packed up by migrant workers who take home maybe seven dollars a day—I’m unpacking the same stuff so what does that make me?

It takes me an hour and a half and I don’t even see the measly seven bucks. And when she gets home, invariably I get the remarks,

“You cut these too short.”

“You left too many leaves on.”

“These need to be in a bigger container.”

I want to say, “That’s what happens when you hire unskilled labor,” but I know better. Instead I grin and bear it.

When the garden club comes over for cocktails, guess who turns into the butler/bartender? And when she forgets something critical for one of her lectures, guess who turns into delivery boy? That’s okay, I only write for three hours a day, I have plenty of time to do menial work.

Let’s not even talk about when Annie does an arrangement and calls to me, “Will you come here, there’s something I want you to look at.” Carefully making my way through the garage minefield, I see my wife standing in front of a half-finished arrangement. “Does this look too representational? It’s supposed to be abstract,” she asks. Demurring does no good, “C’mon, I need your help, please tell me what you think.” So with no other choice, you step right in it.

Now here’s where the ice gets really thin for a garden club guest worker. Because if she takes your advice and doesn’t bring home a blue, you’re getting some of the blame. “I shouldn’t have listened to you,” is what you get. “I knew it was too representational right from the start but I let you talk me into it.”

But it gets worse. From crack cocaine, addicts often go on to heroin. It’s the same with garden clubbers. They take the leap from doing flower shows to putting on Garden Week. Annie got dragooned into being deputy-dog this year.

It’s like a military campaign. All across Virginia, thousands of garden clubbers mobilize to put on a week of house and garden tours across the state. It’s an 11 million dollar operation and it takes regular army to pull it off. Chief-of-Staff, generals, colonels, captains, lieutenants and thousands of grunts. Annie is a captain reporting to Colonel Catherine.

The campaign begins a year before when Google Docs start flying and they begin reporting to Richmond on a regular basis. As Richmond was the capital of the Confederacy, it’s now the nerve center of the Garden Week campaign.

“I’m going to Richmond tomorrow for a meeting,” is what I hear a couple times a week. Annie’s target is Culpeper. So if she’s not off to Richmond, she’s in Culpeper.

A year ago, they sweet-talked a bunch of poor suckers into putting their farms on the tour. In late winter, their properties get invaded by the army. They make plans to station women in each house as guides, assign teams to do multiple flower arrangements, recruit car parkers, hire buses and port-a-potties, make arrangements for food and drinks. As you can imagine, our phone rings off the hook and emails pile up on Annie’s computer.

“I must get fifty a day,” she tells me as her fingers tap, tap, tap, on her phone. So even though my wife is home, she’s really not because she’s got her nose in her iPhone 24-7. If I have something to say to her, I have to book the time to talk.

And then there are the crises when she makes a mad dash to the car, screams down the drive and speeds to Colonel Catherine’s for an emergency meeting.

If I try to tell her she’s taking everything too seriously and needs to step back and get some perspective, I get, “You just don’t get it, do you? This is a tremendous undertaking and we have a million things to do. So you just better get with the program, okay?”

Oh well, after Garden week is over maybe I can divorce the garden club and see if I can remarry my wife.

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Life Happens: Make a Wish. Take a Chance. Make a Change.

August 2, 2016 By Keswick Life

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By Mary Morony

Wishing and dreaming can be some potent stuff. If you look back on your life and see how many things you wished for showed up, you just might be surprised. Sometimes we miss a fulfilled wish because it didn’t manifest in the exact way we envisioned.

Take this gig (Life Happens) for example; I never dreamed or imagined having a monthly platform to share my thought du mois, but I did regularly toy with the idea that it would be fun to share my deepest (and oft times meaningless) thoughts with a larger audience than Hubs. The chances are good that he did too, possibly for a whole set of different reasons which we will not go into here.

Wish fulfilled in my case, whether for my husband’s sake or my own – but what about the cost? Everything, we all know, has a cost. The cost for your wish coming true may not be apparent at first and certainly, doesn’t always show up in dollars and cents. Nonetheless, it comes with a vibrating –for emphasis, not palsy- hand out. Hence, the caution we often hear “careful what you wish for – you might get it.” When the time comes to pay for it, you might have wished you’d been a little more circumspect.

The cost of a wish fulfilled in my example is that it has become incumbent on me to have a thought worth sharing, every single month! No biggie, right? Sometimes coming up with an idea to write about is like making orange juice from an already juiced orange. But that is only one part of being on the fulfilled side of wishes and dreams.

Getting bogged down by day-to-day life is part of the design, even when the day-to-day is a dream come true. Think how well evolution would have worked if our Neanderthal forbearers had been happily content just to plop themselves down in their undecorated caves with a just a stick and a club and no other plans, hope or desire. Driven by an evolutionary to-do loop; we humans Seek, Find, and Repeat. If a genie granted you just one wish – what would you wish for? Another wish. We can never be satisfied with what’s in front of us.

Boredom is built into the human psyche right along with fear and world-weariness. How do I know this, you just might ask. That’s simple. The French and Germans have specific words for it, so it must be so. There is “angst” from the German for fear, which occurs when your wished-for, let’s say, JOB appears. Will you keep it? Is there a better one? It’s a long commute. Your co-workers are just meh. If you even notice this angst working on you, dismiss these things as the cost of a wish fulfilled. You aren’t exactly worrying about it, but thoughts of dissatisfaction have a way of worming their way into your initial joy. As the worm trails start to overlap, you find yourself wishing for a new job.

Then there’s the French word “ennui” for boredom. Boredom can suck the life and soul out a dream that comes true. Cinderella would have been an entirely different story if her fairy godmother hadn’t the foresight to impose a very strict deadline on her big night at the palace. With too many dances with the Prince and all the tedious bowing, the ‘wished-for’ becomes empty and vacant, inciting yet another longing for even the so-called ‘happily ever after’ to be different.

The Germans have another word that encapsulates weariness with the world and all that is in it – Weltschmerz or “world pain”. Not logical, like the philosophy of pessimism, but an emotional response to the idea that there is more bad than good in the world – including your wishes and dreams. If you have given up wishing due to the sadness and you know your dreams will never be all that they could – you are suffering from Weltschmerz.

Every dream that comes true and wish fulfilled is the stuff of miracles and the juice that makes life so good. Remember that dream job? Great at first, right? When tedium sets in, ‘great’ morphs to ‘good’ and sometimes not even close to that. What do you think is the trick to keeping our dreams alive and vibrant? Why do suppose we lose our verve? Like Thomas Wolfe said, “you can’t go home again.” You can never stand in that exact spot where you initially dreamed your dream or wished your wish. That was then-water over the dam. The fulfilled desire is over, and there is a new desire, dream and wish to dream anew.

Don’t be too hard on yourself if you find that your wishes lead to more wishing and dreaming, if wishes were horses, beggars would ultimately be unsatisfied, even with a Ferrari.

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Bookworm: Reflecting on Great Summer Pool Reads

August 2, 2016 By Keswick Life

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By Suzanne Nash

The heat of the summer is upon us and I returned to a tradition that I instituted when my children were little…a weekly excursion to the downtown library. There is nothing more satisfying than returning home with a stack full of new books to explore. Chores are left undone and the bedside light stays on a little later as I indulge myself. There is nothing quite so satisfying! So here are some of my latest finds and I hope they inspire you to make the journey to your local library and load up on mystery and fantasy this month.

In the mystery category, William J. Mann has done a marvelous job recreating Hollywood at the beginning of the film industry (1920’s). Tinseltown: Murder, Morphine and Madness at the Dawn of Hollywood takes place when the movie industry was just beginning to deal with the threat of censorship. The murder of a well-respected Hollywood resident, William Desmond Taylor, brings the decadent lifestyle of the stars and producers into clear focus. Mann provides wonderful insight not only into the murder but also explores the men who are responsible for the beginning of the film industry. He has done an incredible amount of work to give a possible and profitable conclusion to this real life murder.

A Certain Age by Beatiz Williams takes you to the same time period…the 1920s, but on the other side of the United States. Mrs. Theresa Marshall of Fifth Avenue and South Hampton, Long Island is having an affair with The Boy (Captain Octavian Rofrano). A hero of the Great War, The Boy caught the eye of Theresa while summering in the Hamptons. Theresa’s husband, Sylvo, keeps himself busy with his mistresses, leaving Theresa to amuse herself. For those of you familiar with opera, this is a re-interpretation of Richard Strauss’ comic opera, Der Rosenkavalier, set in the Jazz Age. It is very well written and the mystery is kept taut until the end.

Another mystery which carries over the operatic theme, Sent to the Devil by Laura Lebow takes place in Vienna, Austria in 1788. Dupont, who writes librettos for Mozart’s operas, used to be a priest but when his friend, Father Alois, is murdered, Dupont is pulled into the investigation against his will. Memorable characters that you will recognize from history populate this enthralling novel. Vivid descriptions of Vienna…the parks, the coffee houses and the palaces make this a perfect summer read if you want to be taken on a journey to Europe.

There are several lovely fantasy novels out currently and I always enjoy this genre in the summer so if you have never delved into fantasy before, now is a good opportunity.

The House of Shattered Wings takes place in France sometime after the war between the Houses of Mortals and Fallen Angels. These houses are now vying for control over the once beautiful Paris. There is a dark evil lurking in the shadows, killing mortals and the fallen equally. Filled with magic and mystery, this novel by Aliette de Bodard reminded me a little of a Harry Potter for adults.

Erick Setiawan created a mystical world in Of Bees and Mist, where family secrets chain children to past mistakes. Meridia grows up in a cold (very literally cold) home which is haunted by a fog that comes and goes every evening. When she falls in love with Daniel, marries him and moves into his family home, she believes she has escaped the hard cold existence of her youth. Unfortunately she finds herself in another web constructed by her mother-in-law. This novel is about three generations of woman who can weave spells of magic to control their world, sometimes with devastating effects.

The Fourline Trilogy begins with The Gateway to Fourline. It is actually considered young adult fantasy but I loved it…maybe that says something about me. Author Pam Brondos has done a wonderful job creating a world that is alluring, frightening and addicting. Natalie Barnes is struggling to keep her grades up and come up with a way to pay school fees without causing her family to lose their farm. She comes into contact with some strange characters who offer her a way to solve all of her problems and suddenly she is pulled into an intrigue that encompasses two worlds. She must learn to fight and defend herself and her new friends in a world with completely different rules. I enjoyed the first book so much I got the other two in the series and had them read within the week.

So if you are in the mood for literary indulgence go take a trip to the library and grab a selection of titles to tempt you into some late night reading.

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Cover Story: Two Blind Brothers, One Bold Vision

July 4, 2016 By Keswick Life

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Written by Caroline Newman

Photos courtesy of the University of Virginia Office of Communications

UVA grads Bradford and Bryan Manning have launched a company with a charitable aim: curing the disease that is robbing them of their sight.

Each shirt in University of Virginia graduates Bradford and Bryan Manning’s new clothing line features a small metal tag imprinted with a series of raised dots – braille for “brother.”

That small detail neatly captures the mission behind the Mannings’ newly launched clothing company, Two Blind Brothers. All proceeds from the company go directly to blindness research, funding testing for new gene and stem cell therapies that could slow or even reverse vision loss.

The cause is very personal for Bradford and Bryan, who were each diagnosed with Stargardt disease in early elementary school. The degenerative eye disease, which affects about one in 10,000 people in the U.S., gradually erodes patients’ central vision, leaving them with an ever-expanding blind spot. By the time the brothers, who grew up in Charlottesville, attended UVA, they were operating with precious little central eyesight.

“We’ve developed our own systems to address problems,” Bradford said. “You ask a lot of strangers a lot of questions. I take a lot of pictures of things on my phone and then zoom in. At UVA, I almost always carried a little magnifying glass in my pocket.”

“It is really hard to recognize faces, especially of fairly recent acquaintances,” Bryan said. “You develop a habit of talking to someone and keeping it kind of ambiguous at first, until you can figure out who they are.”

After UVA, the brothers ended up working in New York City. Bradford, who graduated in 2007 from the McIntire School of Commerce, is now a managing partner in a private investing firm. Bryan, who graduated with a degree in statistics in 2013, works as a sales representative for SNL Financial. Both brothers decided not to take a salary from their new company so that all proceeds from Two Blind Brothers can go directly to research.

“We are both fortunate to have incomes from other jobs and ventures, so we wanted to pledge 100 percent of all proceeds to the cause,” Bradford said.“For us, this is a new and fun vehicle to give back to a cause that means the world to us,” Bryan added.

Bradford, graduated from the McIntire School of Commerce in 2007. His younger brother Bryan, graduated in 2013 with a degree in statistics. Both brothers now live in New York City. After deciding to start the company last summer, the Mannings spent a year selecting fabrics, designing shirts and overseeing the manufacturing process. Reflecting the tactile way that they and others coping with blindness navigate the world, the brothers focused closely on the quality of the fabric and feel of the shirts. Currently, they offer casual shirts in both short and long-sleeve styles. Each shirt carries the signature braille tag, which the Mannings plan to customize based on the theme they want to convey or the location where shirts are being sold.

All of the company’s production facilities are in New York, including a fabric mill in the Bronx and a design studio in Manhattan. Building those partnerships was a key step for the Mannings, who had little previous experience in the clothing business.

“As an entrepreneur, when you have to run 100 percent of the company, you inevitably run into things that are not really your strong suit,” Bradford said. “We had to get a lot of advice and talk to a lot of experts.”

The research aspect of the company was more familiar to the brothers. Both had long been involved with the Foundation Fighting Blindness, for which Bradford serves on the board of directors. Initially, the Mannings plan to distribute proceeds from Two Blind Brothers through the foundation’s network of researchers.

“Right now, we have a list of about 10 research opportunities that we are interested in,” Bradford said. “Broadly, we are looking at a lot of gene therapy and stem cell treatments.”

Those therapies aim to alleviate blindness either by replacing diseased cells with healthy stem cells or by transplanting normal genes in place of missing or defective genes. Many companies are testing these methods with hopes to bring them to market soon.

“What is fascinating is that there is kind of a medical revolution going on with gene and stem cell therapies. Companies are already trying to commercialize these methods and treat patients,” Bradford said. “It is less a question of if it can be done and more a question of bringing the research through expensive clinical trials.”

The Mannings hope that Two Blind Brothers can raise money for those crucial clinical trials, both directly by selling their shirts and indirectly by raising public awareness. Already, they have been amazed by the attention their new venture has garnered.

“We launched a few weeks ago with a post on Facebook that has already been shared to 100,000 people. One of the best things about founding Two Blind Brothers has been the outpouring of support from friends, family and strangers,” Bryan said. “That has been the biggest positive for me.”

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What’s Cooking: Behind the Bar in Keswick

July 4, 2016 By Keswick Life

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By Keswick Life

After sitting down with these two gentlemen it is obvious to see their passion for not only the drinks they create but the people they create them for. Both of these gentlemen has over 30 years of service in bartending at Keswick and continue to bring smiles and joy to the evening life around them.

These two artisans continue to strive to preserve the old-time charm of Keswick and blend it in with the new style and air that is floating around this Charlottesville haven. As a team Arnold and Ernest have many stories to tell about Keswick night life but as any good bartender their lips are sealed when it comes to the wilder events – they let their drinks do the talking!

In interviewing these two drink artists there were three questions we just had to ask them about Keswick life. To start off we just had to know what their favorite bartending experience has been at Keswick.

Arnold and Ernest’s favorite night was Safari Night hosted by Mr. Larry Tharpe. They loved the decorations and the atmosphere there that evening and seeing all of the guests happy really stood out in their memory.

Secondly, we needed to know what makes bartending at Keswick different from anywhere else in the state of Virginia. Arnold enjoys getting to know Keswick families beyond their favorite drinks. He knows theirs kids, theirs likes and dislikes and enjoys spending time with them at Keswick events. Ernest has enjoyed the fun people he has been able to meet and the joy he brings to the crowd at every party!

And finally, after thirty of bartending at Keswick, we asked this dynamic duo how would they sum up Keswick bar life! Arnold and Ernest both describe their 30 years of bartending at Keswick like a big family reunion – stressful, exciting, fun, and at the end of every event you are glad you were able to make it and can’t wait for the next. And who knows, maybe another 30 years of mixing for the newer faces around!

Enjoy a summer cocktail at Villa Crawford….

VILLA CRAWFORD COCKTAILS

Pears Nicely: Pear-&-Ginger Infused Vodka, Domaine de Canton, House Marinated Pear Puree, Fresh Lemon Juice, Homemade Cranberry Vanilla Syrup – Garnished with Star Anise.
Lewis & Clark: Bulleit Bourbon, Local Apple Cider, Fresh Lemon Juice & Gosling’s Ginger Beer. Candied Ginger Garnish.
A Villa Pendennis: Bluecoat Gin, Apricot Brandy, Cointreau, Cinnamon/Orange Tincture, Fresh Lime Juice, Apricot Syrup. Served over a Peychaud’s Bitters Ice Cube.
One Night in Jalisco: Ocho Plata Tequila, Poire Eau De Vie, St. Germaine, Fresh Lime Juice, Topped with Champagne. Sprig of Rosemary Garnish.
Sage Advice: Caol Ila 12yr Scotch, Blackberries, Chamomile Syrup. Sage Leaf Garnish.
The Green Thumb: Apple/Celery Vodka, House Thyme Sours, Cinnamon Tincture. Fresh Thyme Garnish.
Honey Pot: Cane Rum, Barenjager, Fresh OJ & Lime Juice, Honey/Ginger Syrup, Egg White.
Keswick Manhattan: Templeton Rye, Cocchi Vermouth di Torino, Angostura Bitters, Brandied Cherries.
Jefferson’s Old Fashioned: Jefferson’s Reserve Bourbon, Sugar, Fee Brothers Bitters, Orange Slice

HENNESSY HOT OR COLD

Toddy – Hennessy Cognac VSOP, Honey/Ginger Syrup, Fresh Lemon Juice, Hot Water. Lemon Peel Garnish.
Sidecar – Hennessy Cognac VSOP, Grand Marnier, Fresh Lemon Juice. Served in a Sugar Rimmed Martini Glass.
Lairds Alexander: Lairds Apple Brandy, Crème de Cocoa, Cream, Virginia Maple Syrup & Cider. Shaved Nutmeg Garnish.
Keswick Kick: Solerno Blood Orange Liquor, Amerula, Tia Maria, Licor 43 & Espresso Served Up.
Full Cry Bloody Mary: Kettle One Vodka & Home-made Bloody Mary Mix. Served with a Celery Salt Rim & Hearty Garnish

MOCKTAILS

Keswick Fizz: Tangy Meyer Lemon, Rosemary, House Pomegranate Cordial, Soda
Pineapple Limeade: Fresh Pineapple, Lime, Soda, Pink Peppercorn

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Only In Keswick: Will You Hold the Chicken?

July 4, 2016 By Keswick Life

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By Tony Vanderwarker

So I have a book coming out in September from a publisher in Mississippi whose covers I don’t particularly like. So in my contract, I stipulated that I had the right to design my own.

Long story short, Mary, who’s my graphic designer and an old friend, had a great idea for a cover. Since the title of the book is, I’m Not From the South But I Got Down Here As Fast As I Can—How a Connecticut Yankee learned to love grits and fried green tomatoes and lived to tell about it, she imagined kind of a Green Acres cover, Tony in a suit holding a pitchfork with a stalk of hay dangling out of his mouth, would be perfect, she told me.

I agreed, she hired a photographer and we set a date. As the day approached, Mary called with some ideas. She’d been talking to the photog and learned she had a couple chickens.

“So what do you think of the idea of you standing there in your suit holding a chicken?”

“As well as the pitchfork?”

“We’ll shoot it both ways,” she said.

“I don’t know, I have kind of a thing about birds.”

“How’s that?”

“You really want to know?”

“Tell me.”

“Okay, when I was little, I lived on this big farm and someone decided that Tony should go down with TeeDee, the Albanian gardener, and feed the chickens every morning. Problem was, these were Rhode Island Reds. If you’ve ever seen one, you know they are big suckers. If chickens played basketball, they would be centers.

Now I’m two, a short two, so these chickens towered above me. I was the small forward on a court packed with centers and when they dashed to and fro after the feed TeeDee kept throwing around the yard, they swept me along with them, a sea or Rhode Island Reds carrying me back and forth across the chicken pen.

Now I was terrified but TeeDee thought it was terrifically funny and kept cackling through the few teeth he had left like he was watching the clown show at the circus. I was making his day and me, all I was making was a load in my pants.

“Every time you take him down to feed the chickens,” my grandmother asked one day, “Tony poops his pants. Maybe he doesn’t like it?”

“Oh no, Ma’am, kid like so much, why kid makes poop.”

By this time, Mary was howling. “I can’t believe this!”

“So I have this thing about chickens.”

“I can see why. So did he keep taking you down to the chicken coop?”

“Every damn morning, I think it was the highlight of his day. I wish I could remember what he kept saying in Albanian. It was sort of, “Ooobeshousta megova oobeshousta megova” or something like that. Must have meant, “Holy shit, is this funny or what?”

“I’m surprised you’re not permanently scarred.”

“There are a few. Every time I crack an egg, I’m afraid a dead chick will drop out.”

“Ughh.”

“But that’s more into the bird thing.”

“The bird thing?”

“Yup, dead birds, I can’t stand them, as a matter of fact, can’t stand them dead or alive. Hitchcock didn’t help either—The Birds? I still get nightmares. Every time one gets stuck in the garage, I have to get Annie to get it out. They scare the crap out of me. Except for hummingbirds, I can do them. They’re like big bugs so I’m okay with them. And Annie can’t stand bugs, spiders, wasps. So Tony does the bugs and Annie does the birds.”

“Maybe that’s why you’ve been married so long?”

“Part of it, that and mayonnaise.”

“Why mayonnaise?”

“Neither of us can stand the stuff. So we try to avoid summer picnics. They put mayo on everything. When we do go, we always come away hungry, or bloated from eating too much watermelon.”

“So let’s get back to the chicken.”

“Do we have to?”

“What if the chicken just stands on the suitcase next to you?’

“That I can do, as long as I don’t have to touch it.”

Anyway, when I checked the photo concept out with the publisher, he went for the idea but nixed the chicken.

I guess that’s what you call a dead bird.

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Only In Keswick: I’m Late, I’m Late, for a Very Important Date

July 4, 2016 By Keswick Life

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By Tony Vanderwarker

No time to say, “Hello”, goodbye—I’m late, I’m late, I’m late.

I’ve suspected that like eye and skin color, baldness and IQ, punctuality must be an inherited trait. My mother wasn’t just punctual, she was terrified of being late, always working herself up into a wild frenzy, “We’ve got to get a move on, get your coats and get out the door right now, c’mon, c’mon, c’mon,” she’d be shrieking as she hustled my brother and I down the hall.

She’d get worked up about the most trivial appointments, taking the car in to get fixed, taking the dog to the vet and God forbid she had a dental appointment or a 9:30 with her doc, Patty and her two boys would be on a dead run, “C’mon, c’mon, we can’t be late!”

When we were little we had go to every appointment with her so imprinted on our psyches was the absolute necessity of being “on the dot.” In our house, punctuality was next to godliness, if you were late, you’d pay big-time. The punishment for being late had to be so horrible it was beyond description, unimaginable, something akin to the horrors of hell, but much worse.

So we spent our childhoods rushing everywhere, herded around by our mother at breakneck speed.

And what do I do? Me, the one who’s inherited the got-to-be-on-time gene?

I marry a dawdler of the worst sort.,

Annie couldn’t give a fig about being on time. “What’s the big deal if we’re a few minutes late?”–is her standard line. Of course a few minutes morphs into a half hour and me? I’m a basket case, fretting myself into a noxious stew of anxiety, completely convinced that the God of Tardy is going to strike me dead.

But that’s not the half of it. What takes it over the top is my wife’s tendency to gear down, gradually winding down her preparation speed until she’s moving in slow motion. Honest to God, she moves like cold glue.

Say we’re going to a party. Start time is 6:30. Me, I’m ready at 5:45. Annie, she’s still sitting in the living room tapping away at her tablet, playing some inane game, oblivious to the clock ticking down to departure time.

At 6:05, she still hasn’t taken a shower and I’m beside myself. If I say anything, even the tamest suggestion such as, “It’s getting on, dear, maybe you should start getting ready?” I risk a further slowdown. Instead of a half-hour, she’ll stretch it out to an hour. And it’s not in retaliation, it’s an innate response. The closer she gets to departure, the slower she moves—like molten lava inching down a hill, only slower.

And the slower she goes, the crazier I get. So I have to stifle my rapidly accelerating angst by rapidly pacing up and down the front hall like some demented person, occasionally peeking into her dressing room to check on the lack of progress. Which just gets me more bonkers.

Now normally, I’d pour myself a glass of wine to calm my nerves, but in this situation, booze is off limits. Because with the Dawdler in full slowdown mode, one glass would turn into four and I’d be half in the bag before I even got to the party.

Occasionally, I’ll abandon good sense, stick my head in the door and suggest, “It’s already ten minutes to seven, you want to get a move on?”

She’ll turn to me, give me a sneer and say, “They never serve dinner until eight, what’s the rush?” Which, translated into Annie-speak, means, “Push me any more and I’ll just go slower.”

Now this has been going on for forty-one years, so you’d think Tony would have learned to turn on Netflix and watch Ben Hur, take the dogs for a long walk, sit down with a weighty novel, but no, I’m still wearing out the carpet in the hall.

When I’m almost at the breaking point, she breezes out of the bedroom and gives me a cheery, “Okay, I’m ready, let’s go.”

And when we get to the party, it’s still cocktail time and I get: “See? What did I tell you? You’ve got to stop being so crazy about being on time.”

That doesn’t stop my full-blown phobia. Let’s say I have a chiropractor appointment. It’s up on Rio and you know what the traffic’s like up there. So I leave forty-five minutes early, constantly checking the clock, fretting that if I’m late, the God of Tardy will put a black mark on my record. Enough marks, and its not pretty what happens.

Now I’m aware that that this level of anxiety is not healthy, so I try to throw some water on it, saying to myself, “Take it easy, Tony, it doesn’t make any difference if you’re five minutes late.”

But then the God of Tardy has me honking the horn at some slowpoke and I’m barely able to resist flipping the bird at him when I zoom past.

It goes like this, back and forth between the sane Tony and the loony one until I pull up in front of the chiropractor.

And I’m always twelve minutes early.

Some people never learn.

Like Tony and the White Rabbit.

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Life Happens: Charlottesville Then and Now

July 4, 2016 By Keswick Life

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By Mary Morony

There is a lot of talk these days about the good ol’ days, implying that these days right now ain’t so great. Perhaps that is so. I suspect most of the talk is rooted in nostalgia—sentimental thoughts of a happy time gone bye. Overcome by a little nostalgia myself about growing up in Charlottesville, I remembered my children’s oft-voiced complaint that I gave directions by telling them what used to be there.

Our little town has changed a lot since my childhood. I thought I would share some of those changes from my point of view. Like nostalgia, these words do not pretend to be a history; they have little if any basis in fact only memories. My memories of locations, bet on it, will be just a little fuzzy. Besides, it was over a half-century ago, and what do you want from a fiction writer? Yikes, that was a long time ago!

From where I viewed C’ville, as far as space was concerned, then, there was a whole lot more of it. Woods, as ubiquitous as fences today, separated large yards. While not necessarily dark and deep, they were dense enough for children to play with abandon, devoid of fear of disturbing a crabby neighbor, actually devoid of any fear. It was safe back then in the woods and most worthy of fueling imaginations with ideas of exotic foreign parts. That is especially useful since back then no one could afford to go to such places much less take their children if taking the kids even occurred to a parent. Vanity license plates are a relatively new phenomenon; rest assured that children first would not have been a big seller in the day.

Sidewalks, where there were some, were for old people — anyone over twenty. In a neighborhood, you cut through yards to get from point A to point B. So much more efficient and social, you just might bump into someone who wanted to play. Maybe that was why so many fences cropped up later on. Who wants the liability of children in their yards much less tracking up the lawn?

The University had yet to spill out much beyond the bounds of the Grounds. Copley Hill, as far afield as it went. The trailers and houses that constituted married student housing hardly resembled anything might have sprung from the mind of Mr. Jefferson. Enrollment back then reflected a mere subset of the state’s total population. Neither gender nor race may have barred your entrance to the University; those two factors did not exclude your tax dollars from paying for it.

Charlottesville, like the University had yet to succumb to sprawl and sat tidily within the limits, delineated by signs along the major thoroughfares. I’m unclear where the limit was to the south as that was territory little known to me at the time. I hope someone knows and will write to share their knowledge. The north city limit was a stone’s throw beyond the 29 North and Barracks Road intersection. The east boundary was in the middle of the old Free Bridge and the west was at the west end of St Anne’s campus. Belfield, at that time was an old Army surplus Quonset hut up 29 beyond even the drive-in, near where Berkmar Drive is now. Let’s not get started on the separate but equal public schools that also sat neatly within the bounds of the city and followed the rules of the day!

Deliveries were a way of life when I was a child. Groceries, laundry and milk arrived at our house just like The Washington Post in the morning and The Daily Progress in the afternoon. The mail had been curtailed to just morning delivery sometime around the time that stamps went up to four cents in 1958. That was in my tony neighborhood. I don’t suppose too many groceries or jugs of milk were delivered to Vinegar Hill and forget about the sheets though I imagine the mail got through.

Eliwood Keith’s stables were decidedly in the city. Generations of Charlottesville horse folk learned to ride at that stable. I imagine one particular garden on Bollingwood Road rivals few in the city. I don’t know where Joe, her stableman lived or how he got home. If he rode the bus, he sat in the back.

Barrack Road Shopping center was a pine forest in my youth. Foods of All Nations (used to be in the Meadowbrook Shopping Center) and a gas station or two were the furthest outpost of civilization before crossing 29. Beyond the pines was Duke’s pond known for great ice-skating when the weather cooperated. The streets with a real, 12 -18″, snow were always the first chose for sledding. One year we missed so much school because of snow, real accumulation a foot and over, besides making up the lost class time at the end of the year we had to go to school on Saturdays. Cue my son saying, “Yeah, and she had to walk to school uphill both ways!”

The City Laundry bisected Preston and Grady avenues in my good old days. It was a monster of brick and glass that belched steam and smoke all year and I bet was a living hell to work in. Our sheets were laundered there. Bundled up like a huge hobo’s sack, they left our house under the care of laundry man. He would toss the dirty sheets in the back of a blue van and bring them back on Friday clean, crisp, pressed and wrapped in brown paper. I can remember thinking there was something magical about the transformation. Now, that I know almost no one sleeps on pressed sheets including me, I understand the magic!

The design of the downtown mall may have been a glimmer in Lawrence Halprin’s eye back then. It was still a thoroughfare when I was going to school down the hill at Lane High School (County Office Building now). My classmates and I skirted past the slums as we walked up to Gleason’s bakery to catch the Charlottesville Transit bus home after investing in a bag of a half-dozen donut holes for the ride. If exactly the right number of people congregated—I have no idea how many was the right number—we would forgo the early busy home. Instead en masse we would hightail it up the street to Timberlake’s Drug Store. There a chocolate coke at their soda fountain was a must before crossing the street to the five story Miller & Rhoades to play hide and seek. You know the store loved that! Today, I suspect such horseplay today would have us run out of the store on a rail if not jailed.

When the circus came to town, you had better hoped, there had been no rain in the past few weeks. The big top, tents, cages and concession booths would set up behind the AT&T switching station on High Street. In the Rivanna flood plane like it was, you could be mired in mud with the multitude of feet and cars and the mosquito, oh my!

While I miss the Shadwell Store, and every traffic light after River Road is a personal insult, I wouldn’t give up the Charlottesville we have now for Charlottesville then. By the way, I noticed my children have begun to describe places with the designator; you know where so-and-so used to be.

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