Frantic-ish

Bonus Dad called. He will be arriving next Monday to do life with me for the week. I can't wait!!!! I don't have anything concrete planned, other than I'm intending on dragging him to Washington Arkansas to look around a colonial town I want to check out. Plus, there is the Community Garden Coalition Volunteer Days next week. It only lasts two hours each morning, but I'd like to go because I need Master Gardener hours. 

But that's next week's fun. 

This week, I'm finishing my editing. And let me tell you, line editing of 240ish pages takes a long time. I've done four chapters in three days. It isn't just looking, line by line, but I have the audio on as well, listening to every sentence. Over and over and over and over again. 

I'd like to finish this project before Bonus Dad arrives, so that I can send this off to beta readers. I begged off on a Corona pool party Tuesday because I wanted to work on this. However, I kept the rest of my social commitments for the week (same folks, different event). Now off to work on another chapter. 

An Open Letter to Luna

Dear Luna, 

We Think She's Cute. Normally.

I'm so sorry I took away your toy. I am aware you are lonely and want to play, play, play with every single critter you find. Trust me I KNOW. 

However, you have plenty of toys. Your blue bone is a huge hit! Remember how you earned it on your last day of obedience training? You still proudly carry that thing around. 

And let's talk about all the rubber chickens, pigs and other toys you have successfully worked the squeakers out of. And speaking of squeakers, I am 100 percent sure there isn't an indestructible toy you can't destroy. Not because you are vicious and cruel, but because you are so excited. To you, the squeakers are like the Tootsie Roll center in a Tootsie Pop. Why lick when you can chomp?  

Post-Turtle Letdown
Luna, refusing to
look at me,
but her tail is wagging. 

All that said, I'm afraid we have to have a few boundaries around your toys. I know this wasn't a problem in Arizona. Critters stayed in the desert, leaving you to bark at Paul's dogs or your pal, Lucy the Boston Terrier next door. But here, we must learn to leave the critters alone. Some of them may bite back.

Now then, you have been pouting for the past hour, ever since I set that turtle free. That's fine. You aren't the first melodramatic female I've parented. In fact, if you want to amp it up, talk to Polly. I'm sure she can give you a few thespian lessons from her pre-teen days. 

Turtle ProTip:
Stay out of the back yard. 

No matter how much you cry, avoid my eye or walk around dejected, the turtle is gone. Hopefully he has left my front yard and is walking down Arizona Avenue towards the woods. It would even be better if he warned all his friends to stay out of our yard as well. I'm kind of tired of the critter parade. 

Affectionately, 

Your Favorite Person (again, I'm sure). 

Cracker Barrel

It appears Polly has gotten a job at Cracker Barrel, however nothing has happened about this. There has been no "come in for an orientation." No "here is your apron." And more specifically, no start date. 

I've asked my questions. Marty has asked his. Buckaroo has made his brotherly comments, but Polly is standing firm: She has a job at Cracker Barrel. 

At this point, I think she has an imaginary job. Hopefully it pays better than the imaginary job singing in her bedroom. 

Also, in the interest of fun videos, I went down the rabbit hole and found this parody one about Cracker Barrel. Anyone who has eaten there disagree? 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6_lMzC2uTDQ

How to Cook Like a Southerner

I've tried my best to describe the horror that is "Southern Food." This video does a much better job explaining than I ever could. In just a few minutes, this parody accurately depicts everything I've attempted to convey--including salads. I just don't get the South's idea of a salad. 

To give you an idea of how jaded I am about Southern food, apples and peanut butter used to be my go-to food. Now, I want my apples straight-up. Peanut butter feels too heavy and at this point, is now too closely related to gravy in my book. 

Anyway, enjoy. 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=as37bKQPxLk

On the Next Door App Today

 "Hey ya'll. Anyone missing their peacock?" 

The Lunch Bunch

Most every Thursday, I meet up with the Thursday Lunch Bunch at whatever restaurant they are congregating at for the week. Sometimes I order lunch. Sometimes I just order an iced tea. I'm always there for the laughter and conversation. The Venn diagram for this group would heavily cross over for the Church of Christ members/Deb's Prayer Group/Coronas--with the Coronas being an exclusive subset. I very much enjoy their company. And, for the most part, I think they enjoy mine. 

It was fun was to watch Suzy, Ruthie, Cindy, Sharry, Bernice and a few others with their phones out planning for their trip to Mexico next spring. None of them (other than Ruthie) had ever traveled outside the country. I know for a fact Suzie and Bernice have never flown on an airplane before. Gail, Deb and I were at the other end of the table. I was throwing out suggestions of Known Traveler/Global Entry Numbers and making sure they have a passport. 

Gail and Deb who are world-wide travelers and much more seasoned than I am (I've been to Canada three times and Mexico once), were giving even more in-depth suggestions. The group of novice travelers were looking at us like we'd given them a pop quiz. I finally suggested to Deb she have a get-together at her house where she could just prep them all at once. I think that's happening next week. 

Of note, Suzy asked me the other day what it is like to fly on an airplane. As a nervous flyer, I tried to be as non-dramatic as possible. Get on the plane, buckle your seatbelt and put in your headphones. Normally, I'd tell her to order an adult drink, but the Church of Christ girls don't publicly drink in front of each other. However, perhaps she will make an exception. This trip is next February and she's already nervous. 

All of this was in good fun. I've been invited to Mexico as well. However, I don't have much desire to go. Plus, I'm not sure I could swing it financially right now. Perhaps after the kids are through with college. I did offer to drive the girls to the airport when the time comes. 

Also of note, Deb got everyone's attention and announced to the group she had just read a book by a "talented new author" everyone should read. Then she pointed to me. I darn near died. I had let Deb beta read my book (coming out this fall next spring) a few weeks ago. When she made this announcement I had no idea she was referring to me. 

Also of note, I've been told I'm the only Catholic they know, which I think is funny. I mean, it isn't like Catholics are hiding under rocks. However, it seems I'm taking the stigma out of being Catholic in their eyes because--according to Janice, it turns out I'm "normal."  

Update on the Extra Room

There is no update. 

Marty and I both grew up in homes much smaller than what I live in now. My kids don't mind the size of our house. Actually, Marty and I don't either. It is easy to clean and it serves our needs. I want one more room, but I don't want a tacky addition slapped on to my house because I feel desperate. Somewhere there's a balance. 

Last winter we hired an architect to draft us plans to add on to our home. He gave us preliminaries last March. And then disappeared. I haven't even paid the guy. However, I've called him. My general rule is I don't beg vendors to take my money. If the architect isn't calling me back, that's on him. It also screams volumes of what I can expect if I were to continue this business relationship with him. So, he's got my voice mails, phone number and address when he decides he wants his money.

A couple of months ago, Marty and I went to the home and garden show and met a few local remodelers/builders. I wasn't impressed with them anyway. Perhaps that's because I feel jaded with the Texarkana trades. They all seem allergic to work. I have visions of once I get my plans drawn up having some carpenter pour the foundation for my extra room and then go on a six week bender. Yeah... no. 

We may revisit this at a later date. Right now, no thank you.

Playing With Plants

I've been home since Saturday afternoon and have not recovered from my trip. I haven't done laundry, paid bills at all for the month of May or any number of household chores I usually handle. However, that hasn't stopped me from playing with plants. In fact, other than sleep--which hasn't been nearly as much as I want--that's about all I have done since I came back.

This was my Mother's Day present. Buckaroo put down these pavers for me so that I don't have to walk through the swampy muddy yard after the weekly rain to get to the garden. Why we didn't do this when we first moved in is a mystery. 

When I came home I found out the yellow squash plant took over 1/4 of this garden box. The yellow squash plant is that single huge plant in the far corner with leaves the size of bicycle tires. I had to move the zucchini and the pepper plants which were shaded under the yellow squash plant. 

That white stuff? Diatomaceous earth, spread out to keep the bugs from eating the leaves. Think of it like a natural pesticide.  

I also moved some of the pepper plants (I have several) to the potato patch. Actually, I thought this was a sweet potato plant until I did a bit of research. I vaguely recall burying one potato some time last summer just to "see what would happen."  Also in this particular garden bed are okra seeds because for some strange reason my husband thinks okra is wonderful. The seeds didn't sprout. Bummer. Hopefully Maybe they were eaten by the--I'm not making this up--rabbits, possums and moles. 

Though it may not look like it, I have six tomato plants in this bed. The two largest are more than five feet tall. so far the only plant giving me tomatoes is that teensy tiny one in the front of of this picture diatomaceous earth sprinkled on it. However, I have lots of flowers on the tomato plants.  

Protip: if you have flowering tomato plants, gently shake your plants to get the pollen in the flowers to fertilize. 

Protip 2: Once your tomato plants are at an acceptable maturity put a soda straw (or several depending upon the size) around the outside of the stalk to keep the hornworms off. 

This is Enid. I picked her up in Patagonia AZ two weeks ago on a road trip with Mrs. Meadows. She's hanging out in the onions with the intention of scaring the moles, rabbits and possums. 

Because I can't seem to play with enough plants at home, today I went to my community garden coalition meeting today at the health department where we planted marigolds and collard greens. Their garden is a few weeks behind mine. However, they have okra. If Marty wants any, he can go there and pick it himself. 

And finally, Suzy asked me a few weeks ago to help her start her garden. However, she was going on vacation and wouldn't be around to water it. Then I was going to Arizona. So, I planted some seedlings for her and put my SAD light on the patch of dirt in my kitchen, helping the plants grow until I got back. Tomorrow these cucumbers and yellow squash will be transplanted into her backyard garden. 

 

A's and B's*

May I just say, heading to Arizona is tough on me. Emotionally. Physically. Psychologically. Plus, I never have enough time to see everyone. Ever. This trip afforded me one day--more like six hours--in the East Valley. The rest of my time was on the West side and hanging out with Patrick, my 9 year old nephew, favorite human and the main reason for this trip. And yes, I did make a point to see Bonus Dad twice. I was able to also visit with a handful of friends as well. However, there are about four or five others I really would like to have seen. Next time I come to town, I need to spend more time in the East Valley to make this happen. I miss those folks too. 

I was in touch with three types of friends. 

Friend A: The ones I visit with, we have a good time, and when we part, we wish each other well until we meet again. I'm always left with a warm, fuzzy feeling and I hope I leave them the same way. 

Friend B: The ones I could not visit with but were totally chill about the fact I couldn't get over to see them. There's no guilt trip, but instead a nice phone convo and the promise for more laughing and chats some time soon--such as next week. If this is you, thank you for being awesome. 

"Friend" C: The one I saw last Saturday night for more than five hours, who bitched and moaned later in the week that I "couldn't make time" to see her again. She tried to guilt me into stopping what I was doing, to go visit with her or perhaps I could drop my time with my nephew (I was picking him up from school and taking him to a movie) to hang out with her Wednesday afternoon. I got whiney gaslighted texts galore from her, trying to get me to drop everything for a second visit with her. Not only did I truly not have time, but after reading her texts, I sure didn't want to see her again.  

Personally I'm of the mind people tell you how they wish to be treated. Noted. Next time I will scratch her from the list all together and use that space for Freedom, Mitch and Tonya, Sarah and Wendy.

*On another note, it is hurting my editor brain to have the apostrophes in the title. It really should read As and Bs, but I thought that might be too confusing. 

Home Sweet Home

I woke up in Sweetwater Texas at 1 a.m. this morning. By 3 a.m. this morning, I gave up with the entire REM sleep thing and I checked the weather radar--something one does when they live in this part of the country--only to find out thunderstorms were expected at any moment and would be hanging around Central Texas until around 10 a.m. And, given that I wasn't staying in a luxury hotel, the last thing I wanted to do was hang out in that place until mid-morning waiting out the potential for tornadoes.

Sydney Jean and I pulled into the driveway on Arizona Avenue at 10:45. I'm never driving anywhere again. 

For the record, there was a crap-ton of traffic in on I-20 through Fort Worth and Dallas at 6 a.m. this morning. Seriously, why weren't these folks sleeping? And also, I-30 was closed in Fort Worth, so the direct route was out of the option. Good thing there are 2,389 back roads in East Texas. 

My family was happy to see me. I was happy to see them. The house was clean. The dog loves me. The cat is sulking. I'm about to turn on the Diamondbacks game and probably fall asleep for the next 90 hours. So, life is good. 

Tomorrow when I wake up, I will find a church to attend--rumor has it the AC is down at my Catholic church--and then go play with my plants. After a cursory garden inspection, I'm pleased the tomatoes and squash are going to town outside and Luna has opted to stay out of the garden. 

Also, tomorrow we will be celebrating Mother's Day with the tamales I hauled back from Phoenix in an ice chest and play cards with my family. Looking forward to it. 

I'm in Arizona

I spent a few days with Mrs. Meadows. I spent a few days in Peoria at my brother's house. I saw several friends, though there are a few who didn't work into my schedule and that makes me sad. I also saw Bonus Dad. My hair is now cut and colored, though I couldn't convince my hair stylist of umpteen years to come out to Texarkana to take care of my locks every few months. So, next time I make it back to the Valley, she will do this again. Also, I made it to Winco to pick up coffee for Polly and Buck and peanut butter for me. I also made it to this little dive to pick up tamales which will be shoved into an ice chest and brought back to Texarkana. And oh yes! Tomorrow I'm taking Patrick to the movies and then to dinner at Pita Jungle. 

In addition to all that, I saw my doctor who evaluated my hand and gave me a bunch of exercises to help it heal properly. I had suspected my hand wasn't healing right. He agreed. I'm on the right track now. I miss my doctor. 

It was 104 degrees today in Phoenix. The high in Texarkana was 80. I am missed so much at home that even Buckaroo struck up a conversation with me. 

Next week we will be celebrating Mother's Day--which is very sweet of my family. They already laid pavers in my garden, which is what I wanted.  We will eat tamales and play board games. That's all I want. Laughing with my kids and Marty. 

The only other major Tex-Town news is that Luna caught another turtle and brought it inside last week. Polly tried to convince her to drop it. Instead, she rushed under my bed with the darn thing and Polly had to chase her down before she'd release it. You know... maybe I'm glad I missed that drama. 

West Bound

At the beginning of April, 84 year old Mrs. Meadows contacted me. She lives in Cochise County  Arizona. She wanted to let me know she was driving alone (DRIVING!) to Oklahoma to visit her son--actually, I looked on the map, where she was going it is closer to Kansas, and just in case I was planning on coming to Arizona, she wanted to let me know she wouldn't be home. 

And by the way, was I close to where she would be? Maybe I could swing by? Nope, I was about 6 hours from any point that intersected with her drive. 

A week later, she reached out again, she would be heading back home. This time she wanted to make sure she didn't miss me. So, just in case I was heading out to Arizona that week, she wasn't home. 

At this point, negotiations (which she did not know about) to drive* to Phoenix and take Patrick for a couple of weeks were faltering, thanks to my brother's lack of experience in parenting. My sister-in-law and I could simply not convince my 49-year-old brother otherwise. However, arrangements were being made for the entire Phoenix family to come visit the Sunshines over the summer, which was just as wonderful and meant I didn't have to go to Arizona in the heat. 

Plus, I had a trip to Branson MO scheduled for the week after Easter and a trip to Hot Springs scheduled for the last week of April. I did not need another trip right now. 

And then, right after Easter, right after my hand surgery and right after my trip to Branson, Mrs. Meadows reached out again. This time she wanted me to know she was back home from visiting her son. She was busy the third week of May, but had abundant free time the first and second week of the month. Just in case I was planning on heading to Arizona. At that moment, I wasn't planning on going anywhere. 

"I think she wants you to come visit," Marty said. 

"It's hot in Arizona. I'm exhausted from Branson. I'm recovering from my hand surgery. I have a few significant projects on my plate..." I whined, as if any of that would override Mrs. Meadows--because I already knew the answer. 

And then, I checked my e-mail. There was a note from my 9 year old favorite human. "Auntie, I miss you. June is a long time from now. Are you coming sooner? I hope so. I can't wait to see you. Love, Patrick." 

So, as I write this, I am sitting in a hotel in El Paso. Sydney Jean, my 2014 Silver Rav4, broke 80,000 miles somewhere near Pecos Texas yesterday. It was also 100 degrees in Pecos--which is funny because less than 24 hours earlier I was wearing a jacket in Texarkana. I already hate the heat. I barely slept the last two nights--Sunday night because of the thunderstorm which kept the pets cowering on me (that and the suitcase they noticed) and last night because I drank three 5-hour energy drinks yesterday so I could make the 13 hour drive from Texarkana to El Paso on 3 hours of sleep. Fortunately, Mrs. Meadows is only 4 hours away. 

Now then, I am STOKED about visiting her. I think the world of this woman. She lives on 10 acres in the middle of nowhere by herself. And just because I don't want to drive to Arizona in the heat, doesn't mean I don't want to visit with her. I would just have preferred to have done it when it was cooler. 

And for the record, I am excited to see everyone else in Arizona too. Reach out if you haven't heard from me starting the end of the week and you want to get together. But now you know how I got here. 

*Also for the record, flying out of Texarkana is extremely expensive. To drive to Dallas/Fort Worth Airport or Love Field and park for 10 days (and then rent a car) is as expensive as flying out of Texarkana. Filling up Sydney Jean at $2.79 a gallon (Texas/New Mexico) and staying at a hotel is cheaper than flying. 

My Latest Project

My niece graduates from college on Friday. This is her present. Most of it was completed before my hand surgery. This week, my hand felt good enough for me to finish the binding. This is my third quilt. 

The Community Garden Coalition

I am part of the Bowie County Community Garden Coalition. That is a fancy phrase meaning one of the Master Gardeners, who works for the County Health Department got a grant to put a few community gardens around Texarkana. Anyone in the county can be on the committee and we have folks from different walks of life. I'm probably the only one on who isn't gainfully employed and/or is a "community leader". That's okay. I'm having fun. 

We are currently working on two (maybe three?) gardens in the area, which will grow food for anyone who wants to eat it. I joined because 1) plants! and 2) I need the Master Gardener volunteer hours. But honestly, I would have joined just to play with plants.

Today we went over to the senior center on Texas Boulevard and planted cucumber, basil, tomatoes, marigolds, snapdragons, lettuce, squash and--I'm not making this up--about 16,000 habanero peppers*.  There were two women who were walking in the neighborhood who joined us. They were so intrigued, they started asking questions and I showed them how to transplant snapdragons and tomatoes. They were thrilled to learn how "easy" it was. They were even more thrilled to learn that they can eat the food being grown when it is ready. Though, I doubt they will just stroll on over, and grab a habanero if they feel inclined. 

In preparation for today's planting event, I made sure my trowel was clean. It would have been highly embarrassing as a Master Gardener trainee to show up at a garden event with a dirty trowel. And by the way, please clean your shovels and garden tools regularly, otherwise, they can spread diseases to your plants. The white stuff on my garden gloves (a birthday present from Polly) is diatomaceous earth. I had just sprinkled a metric-ton of it on my garden to ward off the slugs before I went to my plant-a-thon. 

*A word about the habaneros. I asked the woman who selected the habaneros. It turns out, she has never eaten one. She just thought they looked "cute" on the seed package, so she picked them as the pepper of choice. Bless her heart.