My Latest Chat with Patrick

During my latest Zoom convo with my 10 year old nephew, we discussed the best Pink Floyd album. Both of us agree it is Dark Side of the Moon, with Wish you Were Here a close second. 

Then Patrick told me all about the Toyota Hilux, which isn't sold in the United States.  I believe there are about 70 YouTube videos related to the Toyota Hilux in my e-mail I need to watch before we chat again. 

In other news, Marty Sunshine owes
me a pickup truck. But that's for another post.

The Catholic Ladies Auxiliary

It has been several months since I managed to piss off and offend a bunch of Karens mentioned to the Ladies Auxiliary that we, as a church community could do more to make our new church members feel welcome. In that time, the Ladies Auxiliary has been strangely polite to me, as if they just don't quite understand how to take me. Honestly, I intended no harm but I did want to help my church make new members feel welcome. Also, since then, I've gone to the Church of Christ church and seen glowing examples of how to make newcomers feel like part of the community. I'd mention these examples to this group, but I am pretty sure it would just open a raw wound. 

Meanwhile, I'm under the distinct impression these women just don't know what to do with me. After all, if they acknowledge to my face that I offended them (which I assure you was completely unintentional--I even had suggestions like we could reach out to new members--not me, mind you, but other new people in our church--and, you know, call them and say hello and welcome!), they would have to acknowledge they are cliquish, which they are. If they do nothing, then they would have to admit they have all the help they need and can officially stop complaining how nobody is joining and wanting to assist their committees. But either way, my comment made things a bit awkward. 

I noticed the shift in April. A last minute group text went out, changing our meeting date and time. The new date and time just so happened to coincide with the day of my hand surgery. When I texted the group back, saying I couldn't make it because I was having surgery, I got a reply of, "well, if you change your mind, come join us."* Because I can be in two places at once or because surgery is a mere suggestion? 

In May, the group text came out saying the meeting date was changed to while I was in Arizona. I sent a text saying, "sorry, I'm in Arizona. See you in June." I was never given notes, minutes or follow up from either meeting. I wasn't the only one replying, nor was I the only one missing the meetings. 

If there was a June meeting, I wasn't sent a text. I did hear after the fact the Ladies Auxiliary handled the church picnic and a trivia night. Neither were mentioned to me. Nor was I asked to participate. I read the bulletin, so I knew both were happening (the Sunshines attended neither), but nobody said the Ladies Auxiliary were in charge (there are several groups which could have spearheaded this). 

When a group text came out asking for cleaning next month, I responded with: "I can help out on July 13." Then crickets. Several texts later, Rene said, "July 13th works for me." A response promptly came, "Rene, thanks! I'll put you down." 

This week there is a big hoopla Thursday night. When Margie asked for volunteers, I wrote, "I'm free, please put me down where you need me," and meant it. Margie replied in the group text giving me the worst of the worst job (8:30 p.m. clean up at the church BY MYSELF). Figuring 1) I'd enlist Polly's help, 2) It couldn't be that hard if they only needed one person, I replied to the group text with a, "Happy to help. Thanks!" However, when the group text came out yesterday as a reminder of everyone's role, I wasn't on the list. Two people are now handling the clean up. Was I fired or was it a typo and I am one of the two cleaning up? Polly and I will be at the church at that time anyway tomorrow night, so we'll help out.

I'd say the writing is on the wall. However, now that I mentioned my concerns last winter, these women seem to go out of their way to be awkwardly nice to me. I mean, it feels genuine, but then again, I do have a skeptical eyebrow raised. Lisa rushed across the vestibule two weeks ago to greet me. Margie hugged me Sunday after mass (though honestly, I didn't want a hug). Jess, just sent me a Facebook friend request. I certainly hope they are going out of their way to treat other newcomers the same way. 

Then there's this: Catholic Ladies Auxiliary Cassie asked Church of Christ Patty about me.  This comes from Patty. Cassie apparently noticed Patty and I were FB friends--though Cassie and I aren't. Patty tells me--and I'm not making this up--she wanted the inside scoop on why I hang out with the Church of Christ crowd.  

While I'm still a member of the local Catholic church, I'd like to be involved. Being part of this group might be a way to do so. But, maybe not. Hoping to set an example, I've taken on being more welcoming with new folks at my church, because I can do that. Even if these women aren't interested in doing their part, I can still do what I stand for. 

I just hope this bunch gets over themselves. 

*When I had my surgery, my Church of Christ friends went out of their way for me. One called Polly, asking for updates and then gave the updates to everyone else. One sent over a Door Dash gift card. Several others offered to bring over meals (no thank you). I was inundated with phone calls, texts and social media messages for two weeks, asking for updates and offers for everything from coming over to keep me company to running errands--all this for outpatient hand surgery! I certainly didn't expect my church community to go to this kind of effort, but perhaps for the next person who mentions they are having a medical procedure they could do more than, "if you change your mind..." 

That's All Right

Last Saturday night, me and three of the Coronas went to dinner and to see an Elvis impersonator in downtown Texarkana. I'm not a big Elvis fan, but I was sufficiently impressed.  I even recognized most of his songs. I might have even sung along to a few. 

A Gift from Luna

 Luna left me a present on the back patio. 

A Week with the Arizona Family

It's People Month here at the Sunshine house. I'm tuckered, but grateful. Today Squirrel, his Bride and Patrick return to Arizona. I slept horribly last night, knowing how much I'm going to miss them. It's no exaggeration to say this has been my happiest week living in Texarkana.

Last weekend we took them to the Four States Auto Museum (located in Texarkana Arkansas). The entire museum, like all museums in small towns is the size of a two-car garage. It was my second time there. I honestly don't need to go back. Ever. However, Marty loves the place.

Yep, that's it.

Fortunately, there's seating for those of us who
finish this tour in less than 3 minutes.

We also went to all sorts of touristy locales, most not located in Texarkana. Tuesday we ventured to the Crater of Diamonds National Park in Arkansas, about 45 miles from here and dug for diamonds. It was hot, there was no shade, we found zero diamonds. But it sure was fun. On the way back, we stopped by Washington Arkansas, a historic town where I took Bonus Dad a couple of weeks ago. 

In the only shady spot at the
Crater of Diamonds National Park

Wednesday Marty took the day off and we made it to Shreveport, which is 70 miles away. It was my first trip into Shreveport since I moved here. We went to Fuddruckers (much to the consternation of my adult children who miss Fuddruckers), visited the Catholic cathedral and the aquarium. I may have bought Patrick the largest stuffed alligator in the history of stuffed alligators, which may or may not fit in his suitcase. I might be mailing it back to him on Monday. 

On the way back we stopped by the Texas-Louisiana-Arkansas state line, where Patrick stood in three states at once. 

The actual survey marker denoting the three states

The sign, next to the survey marker. For those who don't want to venture into the poison ivy and critter-infested area to stand on the survey marker. 

Thursday I took Squirrel's bride to Lunch Bunch. They welcomed her with open arms and invited her to come to the next Church of Christ event.   

Yesterday we went to Jefferson, Texas. On Patrick's bucket list was the Museum of  Measurement and Time. It was actually pretty cool, and for a small-town museum, it was larger than most: about the size of seven two car garages. I'm going to drag Bonus Dad there next time he's in town. 

One of several rooms of clocks, survey equipment, Victrolas, maps and so much more.
An interesting place! 

Otherwise, we walked around, looking at shops, eating ice cream and just being family. Oh yes! We also went to the Tractor Supply store, because Squirrel heard me bragging about how awesome they are. He now agrees.

In our downtime, Squirrel and Patrick kicked the soccer ball around. Squirrel rarely gets "downtime." We played cards. And we did quite a bit of laughing.  

Patrick is Here

My Favorite Human, Circa 2016

My brother Squirrel, his beautiful bride and my favorite human, Patrick, are visiting. Well, to be fair, only Patrick is currently visiting. Squirrel and his bride, realizing they have free childcare, took off for a few days in Hot Springs. 

Patrick has the vacation vibe going for him. So far, he's been wearing his "Don't mess with Texas" and his Buc'cees shirts. I think the guy is going to need more Texas wardrobe before long. 

Yesterday Buckaroo took Patrick to Holiday World, Texarkana's idea of a water park. I imagine something like a water slide and a river raft ride the size of a swimming pool. But I don't know, because I didn't even know Texarkana had a water park until yesterday when Buck announced this was happening. 

And may I say, way to go Buckaroo for doing this! 

My deep wish is Squirrel and his family will move here. His bride isn't sold on the area. There are several factors that make this undoable, including she has a mother and adult children in Phoenix. The incredible thunderstorms yesterday morning probably didn't help Texarkana's Chamber of Commerce pitch either. 

At 7:30 a.m., my kitchen went from whatever passes for daylight around here to pitch black. I looked out the window to see the wind blowing and next thing I know, lightening was flashing through the sky, as hail pelted my windows. After a peek at the weather app, I decided we weren't under a tornado threat, so I left them alone. However, they didn't miss out on the storm. 

We have a few outings planned for the week. Some when Patrick's folks return. Some for before they come back. Additionally, I'm enlisting Patrick's help in the garden. Plus, we need to make fried green tomatoes (I lost a bunch in the garden from the latest storm) and fried chicken--his mother isn't thrilled about this, because she is afraid he will insist on making it when they get back to Arizona "I know how Mom! Auntie showed me. I don't need help." This isn't an exaggeration. He can now cook a lot of other things because Auntie (and Polly) showed him how. Plus, we are going to the movies with a friend of mine and her grandson. 

And oh yes! Patrick is also fixing my vacuum cleaner. Because he can.

Father's Day

It's Father's Day. 

I made it through 95 percent of mass before I broke down, bawling in the pews. Because, why not publicly embarrass myself? 

I miss my dad. 

The Great Tomato Cage Hunt

I started at 9 a.m. yesterday morning. 

Tractor Supply didn't have tomato cages. Neither did the Arkansas Walmart. Neither did the Texas Walmart. Neither did Atwoods--one of my favorite stores around here. Sitting in the Atwoods parking lot, I checked on Amazon, yep, I could find tomato cages if necessary. But I didn't want to wait for days if I didn't have to. 

I found the last four tomato cages in Texarkana at the Lowes, around 8 p.m. last night. I needed six, but I'll take what I can get. 

Tornado Prep

This afternoon, near me. 

During my zoom call today, my the dog and cat were bonding at my feet. That alone should have been a sign I needed to pay attention. The thunder and lightening were on full-display. I heard the tornado siren start about the same time Marty texted me, letting me know there were tornado sirens. 

Dumping the zoom meeting, I looked out the window. Lots of rain, but no wind. The storm cell displayed via my phone app told me this would be going on for the next hour. Oh goody. 

My bathroom window

After giving Luna her anti-anxiety pill, I hefted Polly's old twin mattress from the garage, through the house and into the hallway. This would be my shelter-in-place location for Finn, Luna and me, if life got harry. I took my time, putting Dad's stained glass windows in safe places. I didn't move Dad's stained glass lamps to the ground, figuring that would be a last-minute to-do. It's a pain to move them. I closed the blinds in all the windows and put blue painter's tape over the bathroom window--it faces SW, which is the directions tornadoes come. I swept the floor and unloaded the dishwasher, while double checking my cellphone was charged. 

Polly called me about thirty minutes later. She'd been at school and had been ushered to an interior room to shelter in place while the storm passed. She was saddened to have missed all the storm prep at our house. No worries, according to the Internet, we have another one scheduled for around 6 tonight. 

Small Town Facebook

 

Metro Texarkana News & Reports

Found a bank envelope in the Dollar General parking lot on stateline. I know if it's yours you have to be stressed out. Just have to know the bank and amount and I'll get it back to you!

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An Ego Boost

After almost a year and a half of living here, yesterday I got my first unsolicited, out of the clear blue, text from someone inviting me to lunch this week. Gotta tell you, it made my heart smile. 

And even better, it was from Leah--my favorite of the folks I've met here. I hadn't heard from her since before I left for Arizona, so it was a double treat. 

Thinking she was catering to my palate, she suggested a Mexican restaurant. That's okay. I can stomach a Tex-Mex taco in exchange for an afternoon of smiles and laughter.  

Atlanta Texas

A replica of Bessie's plane. (Not to actual size.) 

Polly, Bonus Dad and I spent a bit of time at the Atlanta Historical Museum Tuesday afternoon, where we learned all sorts of fabulous Atlanta Texas facts. 

Atlanta Texas is about 20 miles from my house. It was founded as a rail stop, half way from Jefferson (a port town on Caddo Lake) and Texarkana (a rail stop), many moons ago. The city was named after the one in Georgia. 

The notable folks from Atlanta include: 

Bishop Joseph Strickland--the Bishop for the Diocese of Tyler, and the man who often publicly calls out the Pope for not adhering to Catholic doctrine. We East Texans have a fabulous Bishop. We Catholics do not have a fabulous Pope. 

Tracy Lawrence--a Country Singer. 

Drew Stubbs--Major League Baseball player. 

Ellen DeGeneres--That one.

The first African American pilot--Bessie (I can't remember her last name) also came from Atlanta. She started a flight school in the 1920s. 

Several other folks: one being a Greenbay Packer. 

Bonus Dad nerding out on the Queen Bess

The museum was the size of a single-wide trailer, only because it was a single-wide trailer. The Chamber of Commerce resided at the far end of the building for meet and greets and meetings. In addition to a replica of Bessie's plane, we saw the usual artifacts that go into small-town museums: black and white pictures of town leaders, tools and supplies donated or unearthed from the area and a map or two.

Honestly, the museum was more interesting than I expected. But then again, most small town museums actually are. I highly recommend checking out a few. Bonus Dad and I have hit several in Northern Michigan over the years. And we are working our way through several in this part of Texas as well. On his next visit, I think we'll make a point to get to the Civil Air Patrol Museum in Mount Pleasant.  

Of note, in the 1970s Smokey and the Bandit Movie, whose plot solely consisted of having Burt Reynolds drive from Texarkana to Atlanta without being arrested, it should be pointed out Bandit was heading to Atlanta Georgia. Otherwise, he'd have arrived in less than a half hour. 

Also of note, we found an Italian restaurant in Atlanta that I've been told by Ruthie the Corona is "excellent." My family is going to check it out this weekend. 

Bonus Dad Week

Bonus Dad has been here this week. Hanging out. He helped me with my never-ending saga of weeding the front flower bed. He came to the Community Garden Coalition Meeting on Tuesday and the Community Garden Volunteer Day on Wednesday. Perhaps the Volunteer Day was a wee bit too much for him. He looked winded an hour and a half into the whole thing, so I made up some silly reason to the Powers that Be why we had to go. 

He was a great sport about me carting him hither and yon. We hung out for an afternoon in Washington Arkansas, a small town about 40 miles from here that was founded pre-civil war. It also boasts the world's largest magnolia tree. We also high-tailed it to the Atlanta Texas historical museum one afternoon to see the Jenny Wing biplane. Bonus Dad was an aeronautical engineer years ago. 

On his last day, we just chillaxed on Arizona Avenue. In the afternoon I gave him the Texarkana nickel tour, taking him to all the major sites in town: another community garden, a drive by the jail, which straddles two states, the courthouse/post office which also straddles two states, downtown Texarkana and Spring Lake Park--which has a B-17 displayed on the grounds. Then, we checked out the new Andy's Frozen Custard which opened up. It is no exaggeration to say Andy's is probably in the top 10 best restaurants in Tex-Town. I even thought so before I became reacquainted with their yumminess. 

In between the trips and the plants, we were just us. He took cat naps in the afternoon. We discussed books and authors. We watched Perry Mason (Marty's and my latest binge). We talked history and politics. We shared memories and stories. He petted Luna and said hello to Finn. He loved on my kids and my kids loved on him. And I enjoyed every moment with him. 

Near and Far

 These are two nuggets found in my Internet feed.

This one speaks for itself (I hope). 

In the event you need a Rosetta Stone for the next one: I'll cut to the chase. It is time to think seriously about the afterlife.  The signs from Scripture are coming true. Get your affairs in order. 

We've had the plague. It's rained (in my memory of living here) like never before: Every week sans one in 2023 in Texarkana. And then, last night the Dodgers blew an 8-3 lead, giving my beloved Diamondbacks sole possession of First Place in the National League West. 

 

Life This Week

Bonus Dad is here! We are doing life together this week. He has been playing with plants with me--including coming to the Community Garden Coalition Meeting with me today. Later I am dragging him to some obscure museum I found, because that's what we do. 

My heart is full. 

PS: I didn't finish my edits. 

 

I Live With a High Functioning Toddler

It appears there is some sort of eternal font in my backyard spawning turtles. That can be the only explanation for the sheer number of them Luna keeps finding. And now, she knows she isn't allowed to have them. When caught, she runs across the yard, drops it and then jaunts back over to us, as if we won't know what just happened. 

Meanwhile Marty or I are distracting the mutt while the other takes the turtle out to the front yard, wishes it well and sends it on its way. With that task done, we release the hound, who innocently waltzes back to where she dropped her plaything, only to find it missing. 

And then... Luna cries (CRIES I TELL YOU) for the next 45 minutes like she's been whipped and beaten, mourning her little turtle friend. While all this is going on, I'm working on edits, word for word, line for line, with a forlorn, howling dog, who is letting the household know the only one who can possibly console her is Mama. To their credit, Marty, Polly and Buck have tried, but nope. It's me or the turtle.  

Truth

Let me just say, my family is putting up with an awful lot right now. The other day Buckaroo worked all day and then made dinner (frozen lasagna) because I forgot to cook. I hear it was delish. I also handed him my debit card and asked him to run to the store for milk and bread. 

I'm getting about 4 hours of sleep a night. Plus, it doesn't look like the edits will be done before Bonus Dad arrives. If that's the case, I will start cleaning around 1 a.m. Monday morning. 

On another note, Marty asked me Friday morning when was the last time I ate. It turned out I had an apple about 24 hours earlier. 

 

Relics? Mementos? Keepsakes?

I took a break from edits to attend my second Church of Christ book club. We read James Patterson's, Run Rose Run. Actually, it was co-written with Dolly Parton. My guess is Dolly wrote it and James added a few descriptive verbs so that he could slap his name on the title and grab the royalties. 

Gail invited me. She was the only crossover on the Venn Diagram of Church of Christ/Corona and Church of Christ/Book Club folks I knew. That's okay. These ladies were just as nice and just as welcoming (DO YOU HEAR ME LOCAL CATHOLICS???)

Apparently, the Church of Christ book club attendees are the more upscale members of that church. Our meeting was held at Jill's house, which is the most palatial estate I've seen since moving here. Actually, it would make a few Scottsdale homes I've seen look like hovels. Gail cautioned me that people with Jill's money are truly "down to earth," and I shouldn't feel out of place around any of these ladies. I checked my clothes: slacks, matching top, sandals. I checked my hair and make-up, all up to the standards of everyone there. So, her comment still makes me wonder what kind of vibe I'm giving off where Gail felt I might be the least bit intimidated. 

I would like to break out here and say, Jill reminded me of my expat friend in Phoenix. They are both fascinating. They are both attorneys. And, they are both world-travelers who have tastefully decorated their homes with do-dads* from their far-off travels. I hope there's a chance to get to know Jill a bit better. As she was the hostess, we didn't really have a chance to talk. But, even more to the point, it REALLY made me miss my friend in Phoenix. 

Anyway, the book discussion was interesting. If I were talking to writers, I'd probably tear the story apart, pointing out the obvious plot failures. But there was enough meat to hold a great conversation about the music industry, sex trafficking and--because this is a Church of Christ group--Christianity. 

June's book club's date hasn't been announced. Given I have company for two of the four weeks of this month, I have a 50 percent chance of making the meeting. Plus, I haven't touched the book yet. I sure wish the library's book club had conversations like these. 

*Do-dads" marginalizes the way these two homes are decorated. However, as I write this, I can't think of another word. Souvenirs? Think of it this way: Jill's home displayed a cross from Greece and musical instruments from South America. My friend has a gorgeous Chinese cabinet she acquired in China. That kind of thing.