Welcomed

Last week Marty Sunshine, suggested we check out the Church of Christ. Now, before we continue you need to understand: Marty, a cradle Catholic, has never gone to a Protestant church. Ever. Being raised by a new aged flower child, and as a girl, having the neighbor ladies on each side of me next door take pity on me, as well as having friends of many different faiths, I've been to pretty much every Protestant church around. So, I was prepared. 

Anyway, we checked out the Church of Christ. Before we even entered the building, I ran into Ginny the Corona. By the time we found a seat, word had spread I was there. Deb found me, dragged us to sit with her. Several others came over to say hello, with Marty--usually the gregarious one between the two of us--staring like a deer in the headlights. I think Marty was surprised at how many people I knew. Frankly I was surprised at how many people I knew.  

Janice, who I've met a few times, ran over to hug me and said, "We've prayed and prayed and prayed for this day and now you are here!" 

When she left I turned to Deb. "We've prayed?" I raised an eyebrow.

Deb dismissed it with a, "That's just Janice." But I'm not sure I believe her.  

Suzy also zoomed over before and after the service, inviting us to the Sunday school (something Catholics don't have) and/or the "new member meet and greet" which I didn't even need to see the look on Marty's face to know that was probably a no-go. But I appreciated the offer. 

The service itself was interesting. Marty called it a "Pep Rally for Jesus," and he may not be wrong. The message was insightful and gave Marty and I something to discuss on the way home. The music was too much. Like a lot too much. I doubt Marty will go back (even thought today was his idea, he only goes to church at all because I ask), but I probably will. However, I still consider myself Catholic. I enjoyed the fellowship and I wish the ladies at my own church were this welcoming. 

Speaking of the people at my own church, I heard this week the Ladies Auxiliary are still pissy that I brought up our church isn't very welcoming. However, nobody has done anything to resolve this other than gossip about my opinion and let that gossip get back to me. But I digress... 

When we got home, I found a group text from Deb, thanking me for coming. That was followed up by several others saying they were sorry they didn't have a chance to say hello. After last year's loneliness, I can't begin to express how much I appreciate the effort these folks are making to make me feel welcome.  

The Great Compromise Has Been Reached

My Favorite Human in 2016

 

It's Official!!!!

My nephew, and favorite human, Patrick is coming to visit. It isn't the original drive to Arizona, pick up Patrick one week before school ends and take him home with me kind of thing. But that's okay. He's only nine. There's another time. 

Oh yeah, his parents are coming too. That's cool. I'm fond of both of them as well.  

 

Garden Update

The Main Garden: 1. Sweet Potatoes and (I can't believe I'm writing this) Okra
2. Zucchini, Squash, Peppers
3. Tomatoes and some Herbs
4. Onions, Spinach, Radishes, Cabbage, Lettuce

5. Cucumbers (for pickles), more herbs and flowers for pollination.

The whirligigs and garden adornments are allegedly to deter Luna. 

This is the potato garden. 

Springtime in Texarkana is kind of a hazy warm, mixed with a rush to get everything done before the next (sigh) rain storm--which is slated to be Thursday. The Sunshine family has been living their best lives. The garden is coming along slowly. I have seedlings started but they seem to be taking their time. I have one zucchini ready to plant. However, I have these dang stitches in my hand. So the timing isn't good. 

Additionally, I'm now part of a committee that probably has a name. It is for the Texarkana Health Department's Community Garden. The goal is to grow veggies and provide the community with the veg, as well as the information to others on how they can grow it themselves. What I'm really doing is tending to the garden, as soon as the hand finishes healing. 

Speaking of hand healing. Stitches come out Friday. I'm not supposed to lift ANYTHING or do ANYTHING with my left hand. I'd like to tell you I'm milking this and the family is just jumping on every chance to walk the dog, load the dishwasher, fold the clothes, cook dinner, etc. But then we'd all know I was lying. 

And speaking of plants, I stopped by the road side stand in the parking lot of the Nash Baptist Church on New Boston Road today. Some family was selling plants and well, I needed a few. I picked up a yellow squash and two varieties of tomato. These, along with what I have growing in my kitchen at the moment, will give the garden a bit of genetic diversity. Now to convince Luna she doesn't need to dig there. 

In the interest of full disclosure, the big bandage is off my hand and is replaced with a band-aid and a wrap to remind me not to use my hand (which doesn't seem to to work). Typing is not as difficult as it was with the growth but not what it could be if the stitches weren't snuggly settled into the palm of my hand. 

Election Update

 

Polly did not win her presidential bid. But she seems okay with that. 

She is still a student government senator for next year.

I'm proud of her for running. It really was a move out of her comfort zone.  

Typing With One Hand

This is my hand. 

The tumor was removed and sent to pathology. The doctor and I expect it to be benign. 

I have zero concerns. However, I sure wish my body would stop manufacturing tumors--even benign ones. 

My hand hurts MUCH less now that it is removed, so progress. 

This is Luna who won't leave my side. 

 

Campaign Season

Mr. H. Ross Perot

Polly is running for student president of Texarkana College.

Her slogan is: "Let me be your voice." She's running on more food options (including a coffee bar and opening back up the cafeteria), more clubs (there's three clubs since Covid) and starting a speaker's bureau to have community leaders come talk to students about different aspects of the job market and professional life.  

The election is later this week. 

Polly was told Ross Perot was student president of Texarkana College in his day. She was impressed. I was part of the student government when I was at Arizona State University, but Polly wasn't nearly as impressed by that fact. 

Crossing my fingers for good election results. 

I Did Not See That Coming

Marty Sunshine was willing to rush me to the hospital Friday evening right after I uttered the words, "I don't think I'm going to Corona night." 

I had reasons: 

1. Baseball. I said what I said. 

2. My hand hurts and I'm trying like crazy to type my last two chapters of my story before Wednesday's surgery. I'm on a mission.

3. Someone was bringing shrimp for dinner and it's kind of a problem to be in an enclosed space with shrimp. A big problem.   

4. My inner introvert was cowering in the corner. 

Instead, Marty suggested I reconsider. After all, I always have a good time. And I like these women. A lot. They are fun, funny and loving. He urged me to go, pointing out that a couple of hours away from home with people I like, playing Skipbo and Mexican Train is cheaper than my medical deducible at the hospital. 

And besides, if I was sent to the hospital, I might not have my surgery Wednesday, what did I want more? My hand to stop hurting or to write a check for a lot of money and not be able to spend that same dollar amount at the garden center this weekend. 

Anyway, I went. 

And... I found out the Coronas planned a surprise birthday party for me--complete with cake and presents. I still tear up at this because I did not think they considered me one of them, but just Tessa's pal. When I expressed my overwhelm for their kindness, they laughed at me and told me it was crazy to think they wouldn't have celebrated me. 

Oh my goodness!

Wake Village

This happened on a day
which will live in infamy.

This is according to the National Geographic: 

What defines a village?

A village is a small settlement. It is generally larger than a "hamlet" but smaller than a "town."

Wikipedia says: Wake Village is a city in Bowie County, Texas, United States. It is part of the Texarkana metropolitan area. The population was 5,945 at the 2020 census. 

Yes, that's right. I live in the City of Wake Village. As a writer, my head explodes if I think about the CITY of Wake VILLAGE. But, that's where I live. 

Wake Village has a mayor--though I have no idea who it is. We have a fire and police force. They have a Wal-Mart grocery store and a Cash Savers Grocery Store. There is a Dollar Tree and a Dollar General. We have a Domino's, Pizza Hut, Dairy Queen, Sonic, Chicken Express, Wingstop, shaved ice stand, Donut shop, two bakeries, a new Funnel Cake shop, a Yoli's Mexican Restaurant (nope) and a Loca Luna Mexican Cuisine (seriously, nope). We have three gas stations. In the heart of town, there are--and I'm not making this up--six Baptist churches. There's even a really cool junk shop and a really gross AnyTime Fitness within the confines of my Village-City. And how could I forget! We have King's City Park, where the fireworks are shot off every July 4th.  

Water bills come sometime between the first and fifth of the month. Payment is late by the 10th. However, do not mail in a check. The mail is routed to Shreveport first and then back to Texarkana. So, it could take 10 days for the check to arrive at City Hall. Savvy residents just walk over and pay the water bill to avoid the late fees. We became one of those savvy residents in our second month. By the way, City Hall is less than a mile from my house. But then again, so is most everything else. 

Wake Village came to be during World War 2 when the Army Depot and the Ammo plant needed to house soldiers and their families. Our streets are named "MacArthur," "Manilla," "Wake Island," "Singapore" and "Arizona." I looked this up because I couldn't figure out the Arizona reference when first arrived. I now tell everyone, because I think my Village-City history needs to be preserved. 

A good part of Wake Village has much older homes, built in the 1940s-1960s, which seems to appeal to most who seem to be more along the working class section of society. Many residents have converted the home's one car garage into a third bedroom and possibly added a second bathroom. My realtor Tessa tells me where those houses are located is the "ghetto" --which tells me Tessa has never truly seen ghetto. I see older homes with people taking care of their lawns and yards. I'm sure there's sketch there too, but for the most part it is just older homes. If there was a thuggy population, I'm sure my end of Wake Village would be experiencing crime. 

I live in the newer area, built in 2004. My lot is a standard 1/3 acre, with a brick 1,600ish square foot home*. It is essentially the general layout of all the houses around: greatroom, formal dining (why???) and three bedrooms in a split plan with very little daylight streaming through the windows. Our home has an amazing kitchen. Most places have laundry rooms. Ours doesn't. More homes are being built in my area of Wake Village, one at a time, directly to the North. Those are the fancy places, with to four bedrooms and square footages up to 2,200 square feet.  

Most of my exercise comes from walking around Wake Village. It is hilly, people are friendly and I feel safe. I'd walk at night if there were better streetlights and/or sidewalks and, let's face it, if I didn't have perfectly normal fear of snakes. As far as crime goes, we rarely lock our doors when we leave.

Speaking of crime, last December when I headed out to Phoenix to take care of my sister-in-law, I left around 4 a.m. Realizing I hadn't set the GPS, I drove towards the end of Arizona Avenue, pulled to the curb and started fiddling with my phone. A Wake Village police officer knocked on my car window and asked if I was okay. I explained I was heading out of town for the next two weeks, and was getting my ducks in a row. He asked, "Would you like us to drive by your home every day while you are gone to check things out?" 

One of the reasons I hesitant to move from this home is that our community is so peaceful. I like walking to the vet every month to pick up Luna's heartworm pill. I can even stop by the Cash Savers on the way back to get a gallon of milk. I like taking my walks and finding small food pantries and lending libraries available for the community. I like the quiet way of life in this small sub-set of Texarkana.    

*The square footage of my home is in question because after 20 years in the real estate business I contend this house is closer to 1,500 square feet. Tessa swears 1,777 square feet. Nobody in my family believes her. We didn't have an appraisal when we bought, so I don't know. 

Twin Cities

Our Courthouse. Yes, this is on the state line.
 

It took me an embarrassing amount of time to figure this out: Texarkana is two cities. Now, in my defense, I wasn't trying too hard unpack this when we first found out we were moving here. In my cursory search on Google "Texarkana" is referred to as one city and when I was initially researching this, I had many other more pressing matters on my plate--like my father's health, a duck-egg sized tumor in my arm and my husband's job going away. 

Also in my defense, I've now known the truth about Texarkana for about a year. 

Anyway, Texarkana is two cities. Texas has the majority of the commerce: shopping, the "mall" and Sam's Club. Arkansas has the transportation: rail station and airport. Both sides have their own State University, however the junior college is in Texas. Property taxes are significantly cheaper in Arkansas. However there is no food tax in Texas. Neither resident has to pay state taxes in their respective states because of some sort of obscure law that says if one lives or works in Texarkana Arkansas they are exempt from paying state taxes--Texas doesn't have a state tax. However, as Polly found out last year when she interviewed for a job fifteen miles away in Ashdown Arkansas, she'd have to pay Arkansas taxes if she'd worked there. 

Bi-State Jail, also on the state line,
taken from
the Arkansas side,
looking towards Texas.

The Courthouse is on the state line, straddling both states. So is the Bi-States Jail. Fun fact: when the jail was built, there was a big stink about which side of the building--Texas or Arkansas--the phone lines would be installed. It was decided Texas because it was significantly cheaper to call Dallas if the phone lines were located in Texas than in Arkansas, which was across the hall in the same building. 

Here, there are two sets of sheriffs, police forces and governments. I am under the impression if one commits a crime on one one side of the state line, police will allow jurisdiction to pursue and arrest on the other side of the state line. So, run a red light on the Texas side of of the road, cross into Arkansas, it may be the Texas police who pull you over. 

Texarkana Texas has a population of around 35,000. Texarkana Arkansas has a population of around 30,000. It takes fifteen minutes in "heavy traffic" to cross from the east side of Texarkana Texas (roughly where I live) to the west side of Texarkana Arkansas. I can usually do it in ten if I take the Interstate.  

I am told crime is high. And, if you Google "worst crime ridden cities in Texas" Texarkana comes up, though the Sunshine family laughs at this. "Crime" is relative. Though always on alert, I'm not afraid to walk through the Wal-Mart parking lot by myself at 10 p.m. here. I can't say the same for other places I've lived.  

However, if by "crime" they mean the Shreveport shoplifters who got detained by a group of Second Amendment folks at the Dollar General in Texarkana Texas until the police showed up, I guess we do. But otherwise, since I've been here there's been one murder--on the Arkansas side and both sets of residents went ballistic on social media. The suspect's face was plastered all over the place and it seems like 15 people knew who the guy was. He was arrested hours after the social media post. 

For the most part, it isn't a stigma to live in one state or the other. We purposely picked the Texas side (despite the property taxes) because we wanted to establish Texas residency for the college-aged young adults. 

But none of this is truly our concern, because we don't live in Texarkana. We live in Wake Village.  

Master Gardener Hazing

Yep. It's broken. 

For the first year of the Master Gardener program, new folks are required to have fifty hours of community service. There are ample opportunities for this--like digging up the ground, throwing out one's back and putting in pavers (last Saturday), giving out trees and one that I thought would be a sure-fire win:  passing out free mini ice cream cones at the Four-States Fair. 

Except the ice cream machine died Monday night. 

No fear! The folks at the Four-States Fair weren't going to let two suckers volunteers go to waste! Instead Ms. Rebecca and I worked the "toddler room," which was a space for those UNDER THE AGE OF 5 AND THEIR PARENTS to hang out. It was complete with a bounce house, a few random toys and children over the age of 5 without parents present. 

The parents who did come and watch their toddlers were the biggest group of Karens I've seen since the last Home Owner's Association meeting I attended back in my real estate days. As I was trying to get this toddler to stop running up the slide, crashing into children half his size and instead, use the proper entrance to the bounce house, his mother came up to me shrieking I was touching her child. She's right. I was in the process of giving him a high-five for using the proper entrance. She demanded to know my name, presumably to turn me into some higher authority. I told her Maureen McCormick.  

My frustration with that particular mother was short-lived because a seven year old threw an unbridled fit because I wouldn't let him in the bounce-house. His parents were nowhere to be seen, leaving me to deal with his brattiness (he started throwing balls at kids and tried to kick me). 

Then there were the usual issues that come with a room full of toddlers. Like the mother who ignored her son's diaper while he was in the ball pit. And the same seven year old who wasn't allowed near the balls after I moved them out of the way because of toddler with diaper explosion. It caused another fit from the kid and when he went to kick me (again), I put him in time out--which he listened to. His parents never did show their faces. 

In addition to all of the above, there are lots more stories of over-tired toddlers and their crazy parents, that I managed to blur out in the five hours I was there. Plus--and I only wish I was making this up-- there was a faction of pissy folks coming in demanding to know why they couldn't have their free mini ice cream cone. Bless their hearts.   

As Rebecca and I were leaving, she said, "We deserve double hours for this." However she's already a Master Gardener and only needs 15 hours for the year. 

35.5 hours to go for me. 

Child Neglect

I found out Monday night that Marty and I exhibited unabashed child neglect against our two offspring for their entire lives. Why? Because we'd never taken them to a state or county fair or anything resembling a carnival. Now, let's just set the record straight: 

1. Both of my children have entered (and won) drawings in the state/county fairs.

2. There are themes at the state/county fairs in Phoenix such as, "Show your gang colors night," "Bring your parole officer to the fair night," and "Drug traffickers half-price night," which tends to keep the more respectable population away.   

3. My children have been to Disneyland and Disneyworld an embarrassing amount of times. 

So, I am not one little bit sorry they hadn't experienced ramshackle carnival rides run by those on minimum security work furloughs and eaten fried foods cooked under questionable circumstances. 

However, Monday night as part of my Master Gardener hazing volunteer hours I brought Buck and Polly with me to the Four States Fair--which was about 1/4 the size of anything in the greater Phoenix area. They stopped by to see me a couple of times, giddy from running around, eating fried this and that and ready to take on more rides. I believe all has been forgiven. 

However, I did take Buckaroo aside and tell him to stick close to his sister. I heard one of the minimum security work release prisoners took off yesterday after his shift and hasn't been seen since.  

When we returned home last night, Buck had a new stuffed animal and Polly brought a fried turkey leg home for her father. Both young adults told me they had a great time at the fair, but they don't see the need to go back to another one.