Why I Don't Miss Real Estate

I guarantee if she'd gone into property management she'd have nailed those emotions in three months. 

 

The Christmas Party

I mentioned some time back, I was invited to join the Lady's Auxiliary (also known as "Unit 3" for some unknown reason) at our church. I agreed because I figured I should probably get to know some of the folks at my church half as well as I was getting to know the ladies at the Church of Christ. So far, Unit 3 has had one meeting. They also had a Christmas party scheduled for December 3. 

Well, on December 3, the only person who was healthy enough to attend was me, and I was in Arizona. So, they moved the party to this past Wednesday.  

Up until the hour before it started, I'd been looking forward to this Christmas party. Then, the anxiety kicked in. I'd met most of the ladies who'd be attending (one time), but couldn't tell you their names. Marty had worked all day, was recovering from a cold and looked like he wanted to do anything other than go to this thing. How was this exactly going to work out? What if they were serving shrimp? Who would I talk to at this shin-dig? What if I said something anti-Southern? Anti-Catholic? And God forbid, Anti-Texan?  

Also, this crowd knew each other for more than 30 years. Marty and I were the outsiders. Plus, they were all in their late 50s-mid 60s. At 54, I'm the baby of the group. My anxiety lasted until I walked in the door and our hostess Melody greeted me and offered me--and I'm not making this up--an apple pie moonshine shot. I stopped at one and wished there was Fireball Whiskey to chase it down with, just to cut the edge. I think Melody stopped at 17. If she was drunk, it didn't show. Melody reminds me of Marty's late mother--a gregarious, bossy, Catholic Texan. She is a hoot.  

Before eating, everyone sung Happy Birthday to Marty, who was the only December birthday in the bunch. After we ate, we played some silly party games and then we had--and mind you, this is Texas where polite society and political correctness aren't what the rest of the world considers for either--a "Chinese" Gift Exchange game. Each party had to bring a man and woman gift. I ended up with a set of mixing bowls that Polly can take with her if she promises to eventually move out. Marty got earbuds (which are now mine). 

I now feel much more comfortable with Unit 3. I have a tentative lunch and sewing date with one of the ladies for later next month. Marty even mentioned perhaps we should stay for coffee and donuts after mass and visit next week. So, it looks like he had fun too. 

Adventures in Writing Groups

This past year, I was involved with two writing groups. My original writing group was made up of an international group of women. They were wonderful for plot development. The best writer of the group dropped out for employment reasons, leaving  three of us. Now, I'm finding the two who are left aren't what I'm looking for when it comes to in-depth story structure. I like them. But I feel like I'm helping them at this point more than they are helping me. This group isn't going anywhere, I'll still participate. However, I'm starting to zone out. 

I also got with a writer friend in Arizona and she and I formed another group last summer. One woman in our group, Alice, oozed passive aggressiveness. She had control issues and kept changing the meeting time. Plus, Alice wouldn't send us a chapter for our meeting. She'd send us weird stream of consciousness and a list of themes she'd want her non-existent story to cover. We were then expected to discuss this--though we had no earthly idea what her story was about. One day, my friend congratulated me on how I kept my cool when Alice didn't want to show her face in our Zoom meeting. That truly was a shining moment of my adulthood. 

The feedback Alice would give would be to purposely misunderstand the basics of narration. In my chapter I'd write, "I walked towards the road, mindful of the heavy rush hour traffic." and her feedback would be "How can the reader be sure your character is really doing this? Also, when you say 'road' do you mean an asphalt street? Dirt path? There are different kinds of roads in different cultures. Does your character have the phycological wherewithal to make these kinds of decisions?"  

In my imagination, I put her in a writing group with great authors and thought of how she'd approach her feedback to them. She would have told Mark Twain if she was beta reading Tom Sawyer, "How does your reader really know Tom and Becky are in a cave and not in a space ship instead?" Steven King would have gotten pointless feedback such as, "Andy Dufresne. Should he really be in prison? Are you sure that's the best spot for him? Prison reform is such a hot topic" (DuFresne was convicted of murdering his wife in 1947 and the majority of Rita Hayworth and the Shawshank Redemption takes place in a prison. So, yes!) And of course Jane Austen would have gotten, "I'd rather see Mr. Darcy end up with someone like Lydia. A better match for him." 

Anyway, the last time Alice decided she needed to change the meeting time, I wished her well and changed the Zoom access so she couldn't come back. 

We also had Olive in this group. Dear, Sweet Olive. I've been working with Olive since June. I brought her into the group, thinking she'd benefit from more than me telling her how to fix her story. Olive spent a great deal of each chapter letting the reader know what her character was eating: McDonald's baked seabass, tuna sandwich and when we pointed out the reader will assume if the character is living, they are eating, Olive just changed the order of the meals and didn't add any more actual content to her murder mystery. 

Olive's story seems to be in the same place it was when we started, which is nowhere with better subject-verb agreement thanks to my friend and me. Additionally, Olive doesn't provide beta reading feedback to either my friend or myself, other than to say, "I'd like to compliment you on your use of strong verbs." 

After banging our heads for months, my friend and I decided to let this "group" fall apart. Now, I've put my friend in charge of finding us two qualified writers who will give critiques that are in line to our plots. They don't have to be at the same level of writers as us. But they must be team players. We'd like to see people who want to grow (like us) and want to offer us feedback to help us grow as well. 

Currently, my friend has rejected more potential writers than she's let move through this process. As of right now, there is one person she's strongly considering. My friend sent me a copy of her writing for me to read. I sent something terrible I wrote years ago and asked for feedback in return, just to see how this person would respond. If we can do better than, "Is your character really running through the forest like you suggest?" I'm probably on board.   

Have Spade and Gloves Ready

I just put my application in to be considered for Bowie County's Master Gardener program. It is a joint program through Texas A&M. Though I would think they would take volunteer labor when it is available, apparently this isn't the case. This is a big deal and there is a selection process. I'm thinking of Rush Week for potential gardeners. 

Part of the application was a several page questionnaire. And, like all Southern activities thus far, it came with a litany of personal questions designed to see if I was a serial killer would be a good fit. 

Please explain your volunteer history for the past twenty years, use additional paper if necessary. I homeschooled. Doesn't that count? I raised kids, co-oped classes and homeschool events, was part of Polly's Girl Scouts, was one of the "Volunteer Moms" with the karate studio. And the list goes on. However, none of this was plant-based. 

Please explain your professional experience for the past twenty years. Use additional paper if necessary. Honestly, I could have written a six-volume set on this one, but I kept it simple: Homeschool mom (it's work), real estate broker/agent, owned a property management company for a spell, freelance writer.  

Please explain your horticulture experience. Include both floral and food. Use additional paper if necessary. And this is where it got tricky. I've managed to grow a tomato in Phoenix and spend under $1200 in water doing so. I think that should count for something. Instead, I embellished my one year of Texas experience. I've successfully grown a bumper crop of jalapenos. Plus, I've planted tulip bulbs two years in a row. I wrote all of the above paragraph with a lot more words and made it sound glamorous.

If selected, what do you wish to accomplish being part of the Master Gardener Program? I want to grow more than one tomato a summer for starters. But I didn't put that down. Nor did I put down, I wanted a reason to leave my house once in a while. Instead, I kind of paraphrased their mission statement and added a few more flowery sentences. Hopefully there was enough fertilizer on my answer to grow into a real opportunity.  

There was two more pages of questions along these lines. I don't know what the program is looking for in their selection of folks. Candidates will be selected by the end of January. Right now my fingers are crossed I'll have a chance to play in the dirt and learn a few tricks along the way. 

An E-mail From My Favorite Human

I love this kid! 

Dear Auntie,

You should get a letter in the mail.

It might get there early, late, or on time for Christmas.

It will include a letter.

Merry Christmas From Patrick

A Cold Winter's Day

Being the new kid in town makes me ever so grateful when an invitation comes around. Yesterday, in front of the storm, Cindy invited me to lunch. Even with the promised frigid temps, I wasn't turning this down. We both rushed to the grocery store for last-minute provisions (she insisted I do this and told me I wouldn't be sorry--I wasn't. There were two gallons of milk left at Walmart 10 a.m.), ran home to put away our milk and eggs (they would have froze in the car) and then met at the pizza place for a quick bite. 

I met Cindy through the Coronas. Right after Thanksgiving, she needed outpatient surgery and I offered to drive her to Sulphur Springs--70 miles away. At the time, I thought nothing of the act, as I had way too much time and four walls that were closing in on me, but Cindy (as well as several of the Coronas who reached out after), have expressed a heartfelt gratitude. 

Actually, the gratitude is mine. It is nice to meet new people and have genuine conversations. I never felt lonely in Arizona, even as an introvert. My first nine months in Texarkana I was spiraling into the loneliness abyss. 

But I digress. 

Cindy lives on a farm with three horses, a donkey and three goats. At lunch she was working out the logistics and trying to figure out if they could all get along in her garage for the night with a space heater. I haven't heard how that worked out just yet. But she didn't think the horses would make it otherwise. This is what people in a small town with a weather anomaly talk about.  

Anyway, after our lunch, the temperature had dropped from 34 degrees to 27. I had grabbed a pizza for the family for dinner. Then I stopped by Petsmart and bought one of the few remaining packages of puppy pads, figuring Luna might not want to go outside in the middle of the night. It turns out my idea wasn't that unique. That's usually what dog owners do when there's a cold spell. Incidentally, the puppy pads were a waste of money. Luna went outside in 7 degrees and then promptly came back in and burrowed under the blankets. I think Luna has the right idea for today. 

East Texas Bi-Polar Weather

For those of you who love, love, love winter, come get your weather. I did not sign up for 7 degrees. Actually, never mind. By next week it's supposed to be in the mid-60s. 

In other news, while wrapping presents the other day, I ran across the gloves I was giving the young adults for Christmas. I handed the gloves to them early. By Christmas they would have no use for them.  

  

Bloom Where I'm Planted

We've been Texans for a year. So far so good. After spending two+ weeks in Arizona this month, I can honestly say I don't miss Phoenix, the litter, crime and traffic. I miss the people I love. All'y'all. Bunches. 

I didn't warm up to my newly adopted home right away. Perhaps if my father hadn't died two months after I got here I'd have felt differently. But then again, as a good friend pointed out, I was already mourning leaving the only life I knew behind before Dad passed. It feels like I didn't get into the groove of things here in Texas until around September. 

And let's be fair, "warming up," might be an overstatement. I had to get used to a different life. It is quieter here. Traffic is slower. People are more forgiving. There is no litter, graffiti and crazy is kept in check lest the risk of community shaming. My big-city attitude needed to melt. It mostly had--that is, until I went back to Phoenix two weeks ago. Maybe I can strike a deal that my big-city attitude can be kept in a box and pulled out on appropriate occasions. 

It took a while, but I've met people I like. I'm involved with like-minded people, and a few folks who are completely not like-minded and who are much more interesting. I decided I was accepted by folks while I was gone on this past Arizona trip when three or four people texted me to see how my sister-in-law was doing and when was I coming back. This past Wednesday, Cindy put in the Church of Christ prayer thread a request for my safe travels back "home" which several ladies sweetly responded with private notes of their own.

Additionally, this year I strengthened several Arizona friendships. Absence really does make the heart grow fonder. I love and appreciate the people I left behind. Every phone call, text and e-mail is a sweet reminder of how grateful I am they are in my life. My Arizona friends have kept me going through some of my recent darker moments in a way the new people in my life never could. 

This past year I've had a chance to pursue hobbies that I never had a chance to do when we were running around chasing life in Arizona. I wrote several short stories. Plus, I managed to write two full-length novels. One is on the shelf, brewing. The other is in edit stages. I joined two writing groups. Neither are local, but both have brought me creative joy. I also joined the public library's book club. Valerie taught me to sew. Bob the Paramedic taught me to quilt. I also grew a garden. In fact, as I write this, I still have broccoli and Bussell sprouts--however, it is supposed to get down to 14 degrees this week. 

In the next year, I have a few projects I wish to start. I've been invited to apply for the Texas A&M/Bowie County Master Gardener program. I want to volunteer at the local homeless mission. I'm working on another quilt, with Bob's help. Bob wants to open a quilt shop, which I'd be willing to work at part time. I'm part of a Bible study at my church on Thursdays. I go to the Church of Christ prayer meetings once a month, mainly for the community and friendship. Tessa, my Realtor, introduced me to the Coronas, who treat me like one of them. Plus, there's a new group I've just been invited to: the Thursday Lunch Bunch. Same Corona Ladies, but this is once a week and over salad. Thus far, the timing hasn't worked for me to join the Lunch Bunch, but I've been told I'm expected in 2023. Additionally, the Woman's Auxiliary from my church as volunteer opportunities for the community as well. So, hopefully I will find ways to grow in my new Texas home. 

A Year at Arizona Avenue

 As of today, we've been here a year. 

I managed to take pictures of our home every month for the past year. 

December 2021

Luna is photobombing the picture, looking out the front door. 

January 2022
That white stuff is snow. It did not get above 35 degrees last January. 

February 2022

More snowy stuff. 

March 2022

April 2022. Luna is looking out the door. 

Apparently I don't have a May picture of our house. 

But here's a picture of just Arizona Avenue taken June 1. 

June 2022 See that bushy stuff lining the flower garden around the outside of the house. That's called "monkey grass." It might be a Texas law that it is required to line everyone's flower garden. I hate the stuff because it makes the yard look shabby and that's where snakes like to hide. 

July 2022. Look at how green everything is! Those are sunflowers on the left in front of the garage. And the crepe myrtles in front of the house are blooming. Squee! 

 

August 2022 

Still green. Oh my! 

September 2022. Luna is staring out the door. 

October 2022

The monkey grass was pulled. Tulip bulbs planted. 

November 2022

We had the front door painted red when we had the interior painted. 

December 2022 with a few Christmas decorations. 

 

Back Home

 I left Mrs. Meadows Wednesday morning around 9 a.m., breezed through El Paso and made it to the thriving metropolis of Monahans Texas, some 600 miles away. It was about a 9 hour trip, though Google Maps will tell you otherwise. For the last hour of my drive, Jane, Marty and the kids were taking turns talking to me on the phone, keeping me awake. 

The worst of that drive came at the end when I ran over something concrete and now I need a front end alignment. I also lost my hotel key two minutes after I checked in and had to ask for another room key when I went to the front desk to buy one of those overpriced frozen dinners. It was the only meal I had all day. That isn't a complaint. I never eat when I drive. 

Yesterday, I left Monahans before 5 and made it to Dallas by 10:30. I was home by 2:30. The kids, the dog and laundry greeted me. And dishes. My mistake for not removing the invisible forcefield from the dishwasher and washing machine before I left.  

The house has been festively decorated, sans the Christmas tree. I'm told they are waiting for me for that one. That's tomorrow's fun. 

Last night I slept 10 hours. I could use another 10 hours. Today is laundry day. Grocery day. Pay bills day (I don't know where the bills were put but there's a pile of papers on the kitchen island) and get back to normal day. It is also find warmer clothes day, because the high today is 40 degrees. 

She Doesn't Read This Blog Anyway

A shout-out to all my wonderful friends in AZ who understand my time this past week has been severely limited, this trip was unplanned and I am here to help and not socialize.  I love you. Thank you for being understanding.

For that friend person who opted to send me ugly text messages letting me know what an awful and "insensitive" friend I am for coming in town and not swinging by to say hello, well... bless your heart. 

Yes Ma'am

Next week when I leave Maricopa County, I will be stopping by Cochise County for the briefest of visits with Mrs. Meadows. It's a busy time of year for her, with running the Sunday School, the Christmas pageant and a litany of other activities she has planned. Did I mention she's in her mid-80s? 

Additionally, she's informed me while I'm there we will be "solidifying" future dates for a visit. That's fine. I'm planning on returning back to Arizona in a few months--just not three weeks from now. 

When I called her, she said, "You will be staying the night?" 

"Sure, if you don't mind," I replied. 

Mrs. Meadows was quiet for a moment and then said, "I guess you thought that was a question, didn't you?" 

I certainly don't mind camping at her 10 acre compound at the base of the Dragoons. The only downside is that she's 4.5 hours to El Paso. After El Paso, the next closest place to bunk for the night is Pecos, three hours further. I either need to leave first thing in the morning, to get to Pecos or I can spend half a day with her and then plan on staying in El Paso for the night with a very early start the next morning and a 14 hour drive in front of me. 

The good news is I should be home in time for Marty's birthday. In the meantime, I'm planning a quick picnic lunch with her in the Chiricahua Mountains (or maybe the Dragoon Mountains--I prefer Dragoon, she prefers Chiricahuas, and she doesn't get to go as often as she'd like) next week before heading to El Paso.  

Patrick

My nine year old nephew Patrick is a genius. And like all geniuses everywhere, he doesn't care that he is that smart. Why do homework? It's just busy work (Auntie has been asked to not validate this, even if I wholeheartedly agree). Why learn multiplication when people use calculators? Why shouldn't he spend hours watching videos on the mechanics behind robotic vacuums. And why shouldn't every book report be on the owner's manual automobiles? After all, he read the manual. Isn't that a book? If you want to know how to bypass the airbag in a car, Patrick can set you up. He can also take apart your cuckoo clock and reassemble it. Perhaps you will be lucky enough to have him ask permission before he does so. But if not, know that your cuckoo clock was probably off by 37 seconds and he has now fixed it. 

A long time ago, there were two little boys in my life. I love those boys and the men they are now. I love Patrick. Those boys are still super-special and being with Patrick reminds me of that time. Those boys remind me Patrick will be a successful adult, provided he survives childhood.

I also love my time with Patrick. On the way to school yesterday we discussed his "ex-girlfriend," and how that has changed his perspective of male-female relationships. He decided that referring to this girl as his "ex" gives her too much power, when he just wants her to go away. He doesn't want to be reminded she makes bad choices. Besides, Antonia is a better fit for him--just ask him. I happen to agree. #teamAntonia

This morning on the way to school, we talked about his secret Santa gift for a boy in his karate class (a can of Pepsi). He asked if a laser could cut through tungsten? Also, he wanted to know why saying "Bless your heart?" is not appropriate for school--may my brother someday forgive me because I explained this to Patrick. Then Patrick had me walk him to the crossing guard and turned around and hugged me in front of his entire school. 

Disappointing

This trip to Arizona has not gone as I was hoping. My brother's wife's mass was benign--best news of all. She can't drive, and honestly, she already does too much even with my help. Right now I'm charged with getting Patrick to and from school as well as to karate. Plus, I'm cooking dinner for the seven of us. I sneak in whatever else she will let me do. I don't mind. 

But the list of folks I really want to connect with is long and my time is short. For that, I'm frustrated. I don't want to be "that" friend who breezes into town and can't manage to see the important people in my life--because they are important. But not this trip, I guess. 

My brother was astonished that I wasn't coming back for my originally planned trip in January. "Why wouldn't you?" he asked. Um... I have a life in Texas. And responsibilities there. Plus, I am trying to build a community in my new home state. I'd like to be in my town long enough to try that out. But I don't see me heading home next week in time for what's left of our Christmas season and Marty's birthday (which I will probably miss), then being home long enough to handle a couple of loads of laundry, pet the cat and the dog and turn around and haul myself back to Phoenix. Even if I flew, the travel is still an undertaking and Arizona is no longer my home. 

One of the crazier coincidences is my friend Jane, who moved to Boise a few years ago, is also in town right now. I won't be seeing her either.

 

December's Plans

I'm currently heading to Phoenix. My brother's wife is having surgery today. She found out Tuesday and the doctor didn't want to wait around to see if the mass was going to get any larger. Prayers, vibes and all sorts of positive love would be appreciated. She's scared. My brother is scared.  

Originally, I was planning on coming in January for a couple of weeks for a pleasure trip. However, this is a "taking care of sister-in-law and keeping Patrick out of mischief" trip with bits of free time interspersed when neither need me. If you are on the West side, or have time to meet somewhere, please hit me up. I'd love to see you if I have time.

Squirrel offered me a plane ticket. I decided I didn't want to deal with airports in mid-December (my return time) and opted to drive.