Burying the Lead

I am part of the Texarkana Community Garden Coalition. This isn't part of the Master Gardener program, though there are several Master Gardeners who attend. There are also several who are not Master Gardeners who attend. This program is through the Bowie County Health Department. They have a grant to put gardens throughout the city of Texarkana (I don't know why only Texarkana and not Wake Village, which is also in Bowie County). 

We have four gardens, where anyone who wants a veg of some sort, can just walk up to the plant and grab what they need. Jonesing a tomato? Cucumber? Basil? Okra? Cantaloupe? Pumpkin? Yellow Squash? Yep, help yourself. 

This has been one of the most rewarding parts of my life here. Sometimes our Tuesday group plays with plants, sometimes we meet and discuss ideas to keep the gardens going for next year. 

Somewhere along the lines, we decided to have a local cooking show, showcasing the produce we've growing in the gardens. Though I know how to cook, I will not be in front of the camera. However, today I came up with about 16 different recipes. 

But like every great media concept, it needs to have a catchy jingle, right? At least that's what we were told by the Powers That Be. And nope, we couldn't move forward with this project until we got a jingle. 

One phone call and an hour and a half later, Polly, a music major, wrote and sang our jingle. 

Which brings me to this: Polly was commissioned today to write a jingle for Bowie County.  

 

Try This in a Big City

I had an appointment at 10 a.m. today "across town." 

I left my home at 9 and went to the grocery store. I bought two pork loins, pork chops, Brussel's sprouts, apples, milk, a bottle of moscato, egg noodles, an onion, tomato paste, and a few other things. In other words, this was not a "just run in for a quick second" kind of trip. 

While checking out, the dude in front of me had some sort of mishap with his debit card, which held up the line. Afterwards, friendly Miss Connie (my cashier), took her time ringing up my purchase, talking about her favorite fried green tomato recipe and--of course--the weather. Did you know it is hot in Texas in August? The only response is, "It sure is!" But it doesn't move the grocery line any faster.

Rushing home, I dropped off the groceries, hugged Polly and took off again. 

Because it was on the way, I ran into my insurance agent's office to deliver a form they needed. Now then, one doesn't just "drop of a piece of paper" in the South. However, that little visit may get me some additional freelance work and hopefully cheaper insurance rates.

And the best news: I made it to my appointment by 9:57.

Obituary

Finn's opinion about another
Diamondbacks' losing season

Phineas Finnegan O'Malley Sunshine (2010ish to 2023)--known as Finn to his friends--left this world peacefully yesterday, surrounded by several family members and his vet, Doc P. 

An avid bird, lizard and scorpion hunter, in his younger years, Finn often brought in his trophies to show his loving family, causing several at-length discussion about the difference between "inside" and "outside" toys. 

Always the prankster, Finn enjoyed his time in Arizona, lounging on the staircase, tripping an unsuspecting Sunshine. Additionally, Finn relished in goading the 237 yappy dogs next door at 4 a.m. by laying on the block fence, extending his paw towards their yard and watching with great anticipation as they jumped on their nubby legs in their attempts to cajole him to join them in their rabblerousing. 

In his spare time, Finn perfected the art of holding down the floor, master bed, staircase and garden. After his move to Texas, Finn grew more subdued, agreeing that staying indoors better suited his talents and giving the birds of prey no reason to hunt in his yard. 

Finn was also an avid Diamondbacks fan and held several opinions about their bullpen's blown saves year after year, even offering to try out for the team himself, in an effort to improve their odds of making the playoffs. A life-long Libretarian, any night he could be found howling in front of the television until someone turned on Fox News for him to view. Ever the family-cat, Finn patrolled his home, ensuring every member was accounted for each evening. When Polly and Buck, might not make it home for the night or might be at summer camp, Finn often and frequently stood outside their doors, yowling, letting the rest of the Sunshines know we might have misplaced a kitten or two. However, Finn's true favorite activity was laying on his back and commanding any family member to rub his belly. 

Though born in Arizona, Finn was declared a true Texan by Doc P. (posthumously) and will be laid to rest in Wake Village, TX. 

Upon his arrival into Heaven, Finn was greeted by his best-pal-ever, Ollie the springer spaniel, as well as a plethora of other admirers and well-wishers. He is survived by his human family: Marty, myself, Buckaroo, and his absolute favorite person, the "blond kitten," Polly. Additionally, he is survived by his emotional support teddy bear, Pookie and his tolerated housemate, Luna the Dog. 

In lieu of flowers, the family is asking for recommendations for a reliable carpet cleaner who can remove the last several weeks' of feline biomass from the master bedroom floor. 

A wake and celebration of Finn's life was held at Cold Stone Creamery immediately after Finn's passing, with toasts to his wonderful contributions to the Sunshine Family.  

Dads and Cat

Sunday, August 20.

As of today, I've been home from my Michigan trip as long as I was away. However, Michigan feels like years ago.

My trip was bittersweet for reasons I'm still processing. Coming home was wonderful with bittersweet edges. 

Finn is still holding on and, while he isn't in pain, it is obvious the end is closing in on him. Last night, I lay on the floor near him. I'd open my eyes once in a while to find out he'd moved--his head would be facing a different direction, or he would have managed to be across the room. At one point, I woke to find me cupping his head, which he'd had to have strategically done because I was zonked and last I'd seen him, he was under the bed. Another time I woke to find his paw on top of my hand. Five minutes later, I watched that same paw extend past his head and propel himself out of my reach. This morning I woke to him vomiting. My heart is breaking. 

My dying cat is bringing up other memories. Namely what my father went through in his last few months of life. I have a tremendous amount of guilt for leaving him two months before he passed. I know that isn't sane/reasonable/logically. I know I had blessings from my father and brother to move to Texas. I know I had 100 percent blessing from Marty to stay in Phoenix with Dad, even though my family needed me. 

Which brings me to Bonus Dad and Michigan... 

Nope. Never mind. Bonus Dad, for the record, is fine. It is me who isn't. I'm still processing this trip. And maybe if I wasn't processing my guilt and my own father's passing, I would have had a better time. 

This One

This one turned 23 today. 

She still wears dresses. She still curtseys. She still twirls.
But now she does those things with the grace of a woman. 

On another note, my youngest brother, Squirrel, is 50 today. I remember the day he was born too. 

I'm Certain I Would Just Open a Festering Wound

While in Michigan, I attended Mass in Tawas. And you know what?! Several people said hello.

I took notes on how members of this Catholic church came up to me, greeting me and making me feel welcome. Friendly folks inquired about my welfare, lineage and what brought me to that part of the world. Given I was in a tourist town, I'm sure the regulars are used to visitors. 

As much as I'd love to share this with the Ladies Auxiliary, it would probably make them butthurt all over again. 

Life as a Highway

After two longer than necessary days of driving, I'm back in Texas. Both days should have been 8 hour drives. Both were 13+ hours. 

I never want to drive again. 

Weather apps are wonderful, but it really helps if Mother Nature checks the Internet to find out she scheduled to wait one more hour before sending thunderstorms and hail.

Protip: If you ask my friend Jane to book you a room in Illinois and specify the city... well, Don't ask my friend Jane to book you a hotel room. It will save you an 85 mile drive, through insufferable weather conditions at the end of a very long day. 

My GPS has a passive aggressive hate with Indiana and can't seem to find any normal road--like something wide enough for two cars to safely co-exist. Or, you know, the Interstate. My GPS also wants to prove there are at least three mountains and 196,794 corn fields in Indiana, and by golly, I saw every one of them. 

When pressed for directions, residents of Northwest Indiana have zero clue how to find Interstate 74. 

I hate fog, rain, hail, thunderstorms and dark, funnel clouds--low to the ground--in the Midwest heading straight towards where I'm driving. For that matter, at this moment, I'm really not a fan of the Midwest. 

N: I'm sorry I didn't make it clear I couldn't meet last Wednesday. 

J: I'm sorry I didn't call you in the last two days. Weather/traffic conditions made me focus on driving. 

Interstate 40 between Memphis and Little Rock was all 18-wheelers and one silver Rav-4 (me). There must have been some memo I missed. Because, yesterday, as a celebration of the name of the Interstate, ALL traffic--IN BOTH LANES--sped along at 40 miles an hour for 128 miles.

I spent the last hour of my drive between mile marker 6 and 1 in Arkansas, on Interstate 30 at some random backup. I opted not to take the one and only exit (at mile marker 7) that might have gotten me out of that mess, because I was so close to home. During that hour, I successfully played the alphabet game twelve times and managed to find Q, J, and Z without problems. 

The cat lost more weight. The dog gained the weight the cat lost. The dishes probably weren't done at all while I was gone. I have to go grocery shopping in an hour. But I'm so happy to see everyone, I don't care. 

Lake Days

The only reason I'm sitting inside this early in the day at the lake cottage is because it hasn't reached sixty degrees yet and the wind has picked up, letting us know a storm is brewing. In fact, I believe this is the first time in my entire life I've worn a sweater in August. But here I am, sweater and all. 

Bonus Dad took me to Sault Saint Marie--at the tippy top of Michigan--last week. We watched the boats in the locks and then toured a freighter museum, inside an actual freighter. Boat interest is big in Michigan. The two of us seem to gravitate towards local maritime museums, of which there appear to be many. This one actually included artifacts from the Edmund Fitzgerald, which was kind of eerie. 

That is the actual museum we toured. 

Yesterday, per my silly tradition, I woke up extra-early and drove to Lake Huron to watch the sunrise. Aft wards, I ate Michigan blueberry pancakes at the little café next to the lake and went to church. Sometimes I make it in time to see the sun rise, sometimes I don't. This year I got lucky. 

Lake Huron

I'll be leaving in a couple of days. According to the weather reports, the Midwest is in for lots of rain this week and, if I act accordingly, I'm hoping to miss the storms. Polly has a birthday next week, and though she already has plans, I want to be there. I need my children more than they need me at this phase of their life. 

For reasons too complicated to go into in this patch of cyber space, this might be my last trip to the lake. I love coming here, and I will miss it. But I'm grateful for these stolen moments I've had to sit next to the window, watching the lake and sit next to Bonus Dad. 

My Favorite Remarkably Bright Creature

On my walk this morning.

I am sitting in front of the window at the 1937 cottage on Henderson Lake, Michigan right now. Bonus Dad is next to me. I brought him a copy of, Remarkably Bright Creatures, and he hasn't put it down. I was slightly nervous to give him this story, as it isn't a sci-fi or a  mystery (his two preferred genres). Now, I'm a bit tickled. In fact, he wanted to put off our afternoon trip into Tawas by an hour or two because he is into his book. 

Bonus Dad is the most remarkably bright of the remarkably bright creatures I've ever encountered. A retired engineer, he is my go-to for trivia, logic and sound advice. 

My crowning achievement in Trivial Pursuit was the day I beat him by one question. I got lucky. My question was, "What color moves first in a game of chess."  

An Ironic Twist

 I took Polly to Deb's Church of Christ's Sunday meet and greet this past week. Honestly, I hadn't been since April. And, I thought about not going this month as well, but I knew Polly--who had been invited by Deb months ago--really wanted to check this out. 

There happened to be six (including me) Coronas among the 25+ women who showed up (So, these are your friends, Mom? Wait! You have friends?"). The Coronas have heard me mention on occasion Polly is a music major. And they didn't forget. I won't say they conspired, but Leah (who happens to teach at Polly's school) did announce to the crowd she knew Polly could sing and maybe they could all encourage her to give a concert. Suzy, by the way, seconded the idea. And Deb and Cindy chimed in. All night. 

Before December 17, 2021, Polly tended to keep to herself. She had a couple of friends she saw sometimes. I don't recall her bothering to say good-bye to most of them when we moved. In fact, I'm pretty sure she only stays in touch with one of them. When she arrived in Texarkana, she blossomed into this entirely different person. She's outgoing. She has a really great group of friends. She is in the student council. However, even with Polly's new-found sense of adventure, I would never have expected her to agree to sing in front of a room of strangers. 

After a lot of encouragement--and accusations from her that I set this up, which I did not, and Leah promised it was her idea--what do you know? Polly belted out two beauties to this impromptu audience. They listened in a stunned silence as she sang in her operatic soprano voice. And then, they gave her a rousing standing ovation. She earned every clap, cheer and smile from these women. It was all her talents. 

I'd like to point out this little tid-bit though. None of them knew it, but the two songs she sang to this Church of Christ crowd just happened to be Catholic hymns.  

Happens in a Small Town

 This just made me smile. By the way, I hear the owner was found.