I was talking to my Netherlands writing pal. The war in the Ukraine is the same distance to her as Texarkana is to Phoenix. Too close to home for her. It is closer for me to drive to Chicago than it is for me to drive to El Paso. Darwin in Boca Raton Florida is closer to me than Squirrel in Peoria Arizona.
And, I found this.
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| Don't judge a taco by its building. |
The only down-side was they didn't serve tea. But even that can be forgiven under the circumstances.
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| A carnitas and a chorizo taco. As good as any in Arizona. |
Here's what I don't like about Texarkana.
With the exception of Marty, Polly and Buck, the people I love aren't here. Sometimes I have to remind myself I am lovable. Somebody here will figure that out. Hopefully.
There's a lack of my kind of sophistication. Please don't misunderstand me. I am not channeling my inner snob. I have a hard time talking with folks about world history, geography and food. Folks here have their own kind of sophistication and they don't appreciate what I know. But then again, I'm in their territory.
The lack of resources I want. What I want is a Costco, Trader Joe's, Joannes and doctors I know and trust. Then again, folks in Texarkana have no appreciation for Trader Joe's.
The lack of good air travel. Texarkana has an airport. So does Springerville Arizona. It's probably close to the same experience. If I want a non-stop flight to anywhere other than Saint Louis, I'm driving into Dallas or Houston and parking at the terminal. If I'm going to St. Louis, I'm driving to Little Rock and flying Southwest.
The lack of good restaurants. There are a few chain restaurants along the Interstate--Olive Garden, Cracker Barrel, Red Lobster and Outback. They taste like the Olive Garden, Cracker Barrel and Outback. I don't know about the Red Lobster. Local Texarkana restaurants genres include barbecue and soul food. The menus for both are the same. These places serve shrimp and beef and the sides are all fried okra, fried green beans, fried onion rings or fried corn fritters. No matter the restaurant, condiments are sugary barbeque sauce and mayo. Sweet tea is a thing. The folks here don't recognize this as terrible.
Zoning is a mere suggestion. Drive down New Boston Road and you will pass the day care, next to the Baptist church, next to the apartment complex, next to the body shop, next to the barbecue restaurant, next to the other Baptist church. Every mile or so is a housing development. And, it isn't only New Boston Road. In the City of Wake Village, there are three restaurants nestled in between the houses and the storage unit, two dance studios, a dry cleaner, four (I'm not making this up) Baptist churches and the apartment complex.
Lack of opportunities for young people. I'd like to think my young adults are creative enough to make their own entertainment. Hopefully the people they are meeting feel the same.
Here's what I like about Texarkana:
It's Quiet. I don't just mean birds chirping. There's a quiet, peacefulness to the area. Lack of cars. Lack of people. I have a lack of head noise. People stick to themselves. This is truly a "you do you," kind of place where the Bill of Rights are respected. Worship music can be found at the dentist office. Instead of complaining or feeling triggered, folks who don't like it just find another dental office. There are no protests based on color of the skin, political affiliation or whatever drama of the day happens to be spewing on the alphabet news.
It's Green. Texarkana is home to the Piney Forest. As much as I miss the desert, I love the woods. I love the trees, flowers and the fact I have a garden producing food. I like counting the different variety of trees in a given front yard during my walks. I like walking around the plant nursery, asking Mr. Tidwell about the best kinds of mint to keep away mosquitos. I love having hydrangea bushes and sunflowers. I truly don't know how to garden, but I'm learning.
I don't have to work. At least I currently don't have to work. Our bills are minimal ($130 for June's electrical bill). Our biggest expense is groceries and home improvement projects that take three weeks. Compared to other parts of the country, our gas prices are moderately reasonable-ish. If we were still in Arizona, I think I'd have to have a job by now or be doubling down on the real estate business. With inflation, Marty and I don't see how we could have managed with one income in Arizona. Because I don't have to work, I can focus on the hobbies I never had time for when my kids were younger. I am truly grateful Marty encourages this.
People like what I want to learn. Sure new friendships haven't happened. I'm still meeting folks who like to sew, write, read and garden. I will even shoot the real estate breeze with Tessa when the occasion arises. True friendships take time. I have true friends. They just aren't here. I'm ok with that.
My church. I liked my church in Phoenix. I love my church community here. I love the priest and his weekly messages of hope and inspiration.
I'm in the middle of the country. It is 100 miles closer to drive to the cottage in Northern Michigan or Miami than it is to Phoenix. Though flying is always my first choice, driving to anywhere isn't terrible. I like being centralized.
Lack of traffic. As a real estate agent in Arizona, I drove everywhere--which was often 100+ miles a day, every day. I still drive everywhere, but I'm not dealing with crazies on the road. Now, my biggest frustration is the tractor trailers on Interstate 30 during my drive to Little Rock. I feel safer on the road than I did in Phoenix. Nothing in Texarkana is far. "Across town" means eight miles. I fill up my car once or twice a month. Marty fills up his car less often. I have yet to see a major car accident, but in six months, I have seen one slight fender bender that held up one lane of traffic through one red light cycle.
The lack of Karens. I am convinced big-city people are abrupt and caustic. Myself included. It is the dialect of the metropolis. During my trips back to Phoenix, since I moved here, I've become acutely aware at how aggressive folks in big cities happen to be. Try that in Texarkana and you will be taken down a notch or two by the community. "Please" and "Thank You" are so much more welcome here than "Let me talk with your manager."
I'm finding out that folks around here, when asking, "Is it hot enough for you?" do not fully understand when I reply, "Yes, yes it is!"
I'll still take Texas humidity summer over Arizona blast furnace summer. At least around here, it cools down to the 70s overnight.
Since we moved here, I've been repeatedly told, "Just wait until you experience a Texas summer." then they make some sort of "mmm-mmm" noise, like they are eating a decadent chocolate cake and roll their eyes. The past couple of weeks, the weather has been in the (gasp!) high 80s-high 90s. Based on the locals' reactions, I'm starting to wonder if this is an anomaly. I mean, isn't this supposed to be what the summer feels like? Does it get worse than this? According to the Internet, these current temperatures are pretty average around here.
According to the current weather app, it is currently 95 degrees. It is supposed to "feel like" 106 degrees at this very moment. To test out how hot it truly was, I walked outside barefoot on the concrete and moseyed over to the metal mailbox, holding my hand down on it for a count of 10. It wasn't a problem. I like this level of hot.
What Texarkana does have is humidity. The air is thicker and I sweat more when I go for my morning bike rides. But so far, I like humidity more than the Arizona heat.
It has been six months since the Sunshine family moved to Texas. For the most part, it has been a smooth transition for us, with a few bumpy moments.
Though I'm sill pretty connected to the Valley through friends, social media and real estate-related news, there has been very little I miss about Arizona. I don't miss the heat, the pollution, the vulgarity, the population of ugly personalities that crop up with big-city life, the crime, the dust, the hurry and wait mentality and I really don't miss the traffic. That's the short list.
I miss my friends and family. I miss my connections and my history. I miss having folks who share that with me. That's the long list.
Texarkana wasn't on my radar for a place to live. It will do. I'm not sure I like it or dislike it any more than anywhere else we might have ended up. Marty loves his job and a happy husband who is content with his employment works for me.
My Arizona Brokerage and my real estate license have been activated as of last Friday. My goal is to find something useful to do with this. Essentially, I can do everything I was doing before I moved to Texas. Additionally, I have a few ideas for new directions, but nothing concrete just yet.
But on a happy note, a friend of mine is buying a house and I get a referral out of it because my license is active. So, there's that.
On a bizarre note, I also activated my company's FB site. I already have a complaint from someone who is having trouble with a company of the same name in England. And boy is she furious.
Last Saturday we found out that a good portion of our outside and bathroom electrical outlets stopped working. This included the outlet our garage freezer was plugged into. As these aren't necessarily outlets we use regularly (minus the freezer, which just hadn't been opened), we hadn't noticed this had been a going concern for a few days. This was unfortunate because it was full of now completely thawed meat from my last Coscto run.
The situation was also unfortunate because the forecasted high for the weekend was hovering around 100 degrees and I did not want the rotting meat in my garage. We opted to put the garbage cans outside the garage and hope the racoons and other critters don't help themselves. To secure the cans further, we piled a bunch of heavy stuff on top of the cans and and stuck them as far away from the house as possible.
Maybe I should mention, the garbage cans here are of the kitchen trash bin variety. Those big fancy cans one finds in Phoenix and the surrounding metro don't exist here. Everyone either loads up trash bags and whatever boxes/stuff to be removed and sets them at the curb or has the kinds of cans I mentioned. On occasion we do both. But, I digress.
Frustrated that once again we have a problem that will potentially cost us more than we budgeted for (like a new air condoner and our 2021 income taxes), we called a friendly electrician and asked if he wouldn't mind taking a look at our electrical situation. He came out Saturday afternoon and was dumbfounded. After puttering around for quite some time, he promised to come back Monday morning and figure it out.
Monday he figured it out. When I went to pay him, he said, "I can't take your money, Ma'am. You lost too much in groceries. I wouldn't feel right."
In the end, we traded the spare hot water heater sitting in my garage (my house came with two hot water heaters and no linen closet. That is part of what is being fixed) for his two days of work. He also offered to have his wife bring by some some deer meat from his freezer.
Whaddaya know? I found a book club. Not sure I can make this month's meeting, as I'm babysitting Luna and Mr. Tony's crew. But here's hoping.
As a side note, it appears the Venn Diagram between Texarkana Book Club and Texarkana Garden Club has a huge crossover. But, I'm not dipping my toe into that pond just yet.
This is start of week three of the, "four days, max," bathroom remodeling project. It isn't Mr. Ben's fault (mostly) or Mr. Tony's fault. Plumbing emergencies have come up that have taken precedence. Additionally, the weather hasn't cooperated. Mr. Tony can't run his three tile saws outside in a thunderstorm. Plus, apparently this is a thing in humid climates, folks don't paint when its raining. Once Mr. Tony is done, Mr. Ben (the plumber) has to come back and do a few plumbing-type things to make the bathtub operational.
Given what the Sunshine family went through to get flooring put into our house in Mesa, three weeks is nothing. We've all pretty much only used the master bathroom since we moved in here last December anyway. What's another week (hopefully). Right?
On another note, I think Mr. Tony's and Mr. Ben's crew and I are finally on a first name basis. Jack raids my jar of Dove chocolates that sits on my counter. And I make up a fresh pitcher of tea for Andy every morning. They are such a part of the family at this point even Luna looks forward to seeing then. And as far as Mr. Ben's crew goes, Mr. Ben's son, Junior, has made friends with Polly. They've been texting back and forth for the past week. Unfortunately, Mr. Tony and Mr. Ben and I are not at that level of familiarity just yet. But if this keeps up much longer, I'm charging them rent.
In an effort to meet people and potentially make friends at some point, I've challenged myself to find two social events each week. When it looked like this remodeling project was going into extra innings, I changed my parameters and opted for eight social events each month--which averages out. It is difficult to find anything social to do when I'm babysitting Luna in the master bedroom for hours on end.
Generally one of my weekly social events is coffee and donuts after church. Sitting and talking with friendly folks has been enjoyable. I like our church. I don't like the fact that, in order to do the coffee and donuts (neither of which I consume) meet and greet I have to go to the 8:30 a.m. mass. I'd rather go to the later service.
At one point, I felt so alone that I walked the aisles of Hobby Lobby, drumming up 15-second chats with shoppers. Please excuse me if I sound pathetic--I don't mean to. In fact, I'm pleased with my progress. Making friends in a small town was harder than I imagined. But I will do it. I don't need a lot of people in my life. But I'd love to find one or two local women whom I have something in common with.
I've met a few neighbors on my morning walks--though morning walks don't count those as social events. But at least I'm getting to know those in my community. Plus, one of my neighbors, Mr. Ray, suggested I look into a gardening club. I may do that. I'm not ready for that kind of social at this point. I was thinking more of a once a month book club (which I haven't found).
During the beginning of the great bathtub remodel, I counted sitting at the bathtub dealer's counter for 45 minutes talking to a group of plumbers as part of my weekly social events. It was the first time all week I'd gotten out of the house and they were a fun bunch. Imagine if you will, a group of plumbers asking me why their wives do this and that.
"How long have you been married?" I asked one of them.
"Thirty seven years."
"I may not be the expert for you then."
"Trust me, you speak lady. I'm not fluent," he said.
Last week, in addition to church, I had dinner with Abby. I have no idea what this week has in store for me. But hopefully my social calendar won't include plumbers.
Tessa called me on Thursday. She wanted to know if Buckaroo or I was available to hold open a commercial building downtown. An auction had been publicized and the viewing time was several hours on Friday. She just wanted someone to babysit the place and pass out fliers.
When I pressed her that perhaps Polly might be available, she said no, it wasn't the kind of neighborhood where Polly might feel safe. "But you'll be fine," she assured me, though I have no earthly idea what that means.
Anyway, for an easy $50 Buckaroo sat the place open in the pouring rain yesterday. I'm pleased Tessa thought enough to call him for the job.
Later, when I asked who let him into the building, Buckaroo said it wasn't Tessa. "It was Backstabby," He replied, referring to the woman who made sure I no longer worked at the brokerage (and the one trying to get rid of Abby right now). I'm trying to be upset that he came up with that reference to this particular agent, but I just can't muster it. Even though I was pleased to leave, I think the name fits perfectly.
Wednesday night, I went out to dinner with Abby, my former assistant from the six weeks I worked at the ole' brokerage. Abby is almost 30, brighter than she realizes and reminds me of a long-time Phoenix friend. She is also a Texarkana native, which means I let her pick the restaurant. She picked Longhorn Steakhouse. At least it wasn't "Mexican" food.
Abby and I got caught up on her little (he's 5), my bigs (19 and 21) and our husbands and pets. We discussed our lives and what we do for fun. We talked about this and that, laughing a lot and making me so happy we had gotten together.
And I finally, asked her how things were going with Tessa and the gang at the ole Brokerage. And dear Heavens! The problems Tessa brought me in to solve (which I did solve, but caused a lot of discomfort with the staff who didn't embrace change) have manifested themselves again. Why? Because Tessa doesn't want to lead. She wants everyone to get along. And in Tessa's case, "Getting along" means everyone not complaining about the obvious lack of leadership and abdicating control of her company to power-hungry empire building Southern bitches women who will stab in the back and smile to the face. It is why I was happy to leave that dysfunctional office. Sadly, it is now what is now happening to Abby.
I told Abby if she needs a reference (and please, leave and don't look back if this is happening to her!) call me. I will do whatever she needs. When she was brought on, Abby was a mutual hiring decision. I wanted her, but so did Tessa and the backstabbing harpy who lobbied to get rid of me and is causing hell for Abby. Abby is talented and deserves better. I hope she knows her worth and feels like she can move on, because, it isn't going to get better there.
I was so floored by Bonus Dad's voicemail, announcing he was stopping by Texarkana on his way to Kansas (ultimately going to Michigan) that I forgot to see how long he was staying. The answer was, he stayed until Wednesday morning. It was a wonderful visit. I cannot begin to tell you how touched I was, he made the trek out this way, just for me and my family. He is truly a gift and a blessing.
Figuring Texarkana and Arizona Avenue didn't hold too much luster, and not really having done much sight-seeing since we got here, I consulted with a local about day trips and it was suggested I check out historic Jefferson Texas. As it turns out, I've wanted to go to Jefferson anyway. However, on Mondays most every museum in Jefferson happens to be closed.
I did find a boat tour into the bayou, with a guide who knew the history as well as the flora and fauna of the area. Everyone on the trip other than Polly and myself were eager to see an alligator. But as Polly pointed out, "If you've seen on you've seen enough." And Polly and I have seen plenty. Sadly for the rest of the passengers, they didn't see any alligators either. But we did see a lot of turtles and birds. Did you know cypress tress are natural insect repellants? The bayou is full of cypress tress.
On Tuesday we needed to stay close to home because Mr. Tony's crew is working on my bathroom. Marty babysat them in the afternoon, while Bonus Dad and I headed over to the Ace of Clubs house. There are tours three times a day and, like all events around here, are rather informal. Bonus Dad and I puttered around outside, wondering where the entrance was, until a woman drove up, said, "Do you want to see the inside?" and then opened up the house for the two of us.
She gave us a private tour, telling us all about Texarkana history and the history of the house and families, letting us have a first hand view of this house, which was shaped like a playing card club. Sadly, the place is in disrepair and in need of a serious overhaul. If I'm looking for a civic event to be involved in, saving the Ace of Clubs house might be something worthwhile to check out.
I found an interesting video that kind of tells a bit about the Ace of Clubs house. The quality isn't great. It is about two minutes, and covers the gist. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lNLhAajXAsU
Wednesday morning Bonus Dad came over for breakfast (I found an Air BnB close by for him to lodge at) and he was on the road by 8 a.m. I'm planning on seeing him in August, when I go up Michigan.
Swamp pictures below.
It just so happens, the music director of our church is a former Carnegie Hall bigshot. Why he landed in Texarkana is beyond me. The same guy also happens to teach music at Texarkana College. And if that weren't enough, the Maestro just happens to run the local community choir (which is called the "Corale" in these parts). Anyway, the man is talented. Every two years he takes the Corale to Carnegie Hall and they perform for a week. This tradition has been going on for years.
So, if there is anywhere Polly should be to sing, Texarkana just might be it. On the third week we were in Texarkana, she joined the church choir. She also was his music student this past semester. And, she didn't have to formally audition for the Texarkana Corale. Either in the first month we lived here she had sung enough for the Maestro, or she's that good. Probably both.
At any rate, Polly's mad vocal skills have taken off. In Mesa, she had a voice coach and dabbled here and there with singing. But this past six months, she's truly grown as a musician. She received a standing ovation for her duet last April. And, this past weekend, she sang the Pentecostal solo at church for all three masses. It was quite beautiful, but don't take my word for it. The priest already sought her out, asking her if she would be the soloist for our next holy day, coming up in August.
In addition to all that, while Marty and I were waiting for her in the vestibule after mass, we saw two young men rush up to meet her, congratulating her on her performance. Marty raised an eyebrow, informing me neither were good enough for his daughter. I knew about one of the young men, "a friend," she has repeatedly told me, though by the look on his face the guy didn't agree with that assessment. Either way, in a city of 60,000 Polly has already gotten a fan base.
In a pointless effort to find reasonable Mexican food, Marty and I went out for the second weekend in a row to some joint in Texarkana. This time, we ventured five miles from home to the El Chico Restaurant located in Arkansas.
The chips were good. The salsa had sugar. The guacamole was tasty.
After reading the menu over and figuring they couldn't screw up tacos. We ordered a carnitas taco and their famous, "chicken tacos cascabeles," which translates to "chicken jingle bell tacos." Upon further review, we discovered it also translates to, "chicken rattlesnake tacos," but I'm just not going there.
We both liked the carnitas taco. The jingle bell taco was meh. Plus, the corn tortillas tasted like they had been frozen, thawed, refrozen and rethawed.
I'd say, if we were in a pinch and Fuzzy's Tacos (our go-to when we are desperate) was closed, we'd give Chico's another try. If we go back, I think I will stay away from the enchiladas. For your viewing pleasure, I took a picture of a couple of the selections.
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| I'm Not Making This Up |
The voice mail I got Friday night said Bonus Dad's would be here on Sunday. Oh???!!!! He is??!!!
At any rate, Bonus Dad (who is 79) is driving solo to Michigan. He is swinging by from Phoenix on his way to Kansas to visit his brother before heading up to the cottage for the rest of the summer. Later this year, I will drive up there myself to keep him company for a week or so.
I'm absolutely touched he's stopping by. I don't care I have one fully functioning bathroom (where are you Mr. Tony??). I don't mind that I have nothing thawed for dinner. It doesn't bother me in the slightest that the dog needs a bath, my arm hurts so much I can't handle cleaning the house except in small patches or that Polly is crazed from studying for her statistics test and has a three solos this weekend. Because BONUS DAD IS COMING TO VISIT!!!
I forgot to ask how long he is staying. I guess I will find out tomorrow.
The two-phased plumbing job that was supposed to be only four days, "max", is on day four of phase 1. I'm being told phase two might start next week. Maybe. It depends on Mr. Tony's schedule. He planned on handling the tile this week. It didn't happen. So, now he's busy again. I would be totally annoyed about this, but I'm letting Polly handle the outrage. She's the one with the giant hole in her closet.
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For reasons I'm not ready to discuss and are possibly too complicated at this particular moment, I just sent the Department of Real Estate an e-mail asking how to reactivate my real estate brokerage. I'm using my brother Squirrel's home as my Arizona address. I'm not selling real estate at this time. Hopefully life will stay that way.
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The begin tumor I had removed last November has returned with a vengeance. I saw my the doctor while I was in Phoenix, who said, "Yep, it isn't your imagination that there is a big, squishy growth underneath that scar." Since then, it has gotten even bigger and squishier. I see a surgeon at the end of the month. So, hopefully it will be out soon.
Though it is (most assuredly) begin, it still is unsettling to have had it return so quickly and have caused so much of an issue in such a short time. I'm finding it isn't the constant pain, overnight lack of strength and depletion of my fine motor skills that is the hardest part of dealing with this. It is the lack of friends and no support local system to count on. In many ways, our life is so much better here in Texarkana. In this aspect, it is so much worse.
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Buckaroo, who has had the hardest time adapting to our new life in Texas, has really taken off since returning from our Phoenix trip. I think it did him good to see his Phoenix friends, find out they were still a part of his life, and also realize it is ok to move forward. He works at the movie theater, a choice he picked because he wanted to work around people his own age. He's having fun being social there. At this time, he's planning on going to college in the fall. He is part of a martial arts group, and he is working to earn a second black belt with this school (he has one from another school). Buck has even signed up for a tournament in July. I'm so pleased to see him happy and optimistic about the future.
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Polly is also thriving. She's singing, making friends and taking classes. This weekend she IS the church solo for all three masses. Even Buckaroo is planning on showing up to hear her sing. She finished this semester with a 4.0. She has a good group of girlfriends from school and another group of young adults from church. It is nice to see her growing as well.
