Vacation

Five mile ride in the Great Smoky Mountains

The Sunshines took a vacation last week. It was our first since 2019. And honestly, probably my most favorite family vacation. And, I'm not just saying that because it didn't involve a life-sized mouse somewhere in the middle of Florida. 

We went to Tennessee. 

There was mini-golf and go-carts. 

There was roller coasters imbedded inside mountains for those who ride such things. (I don't--stupid 1998 head injury)

There was a show and a concert.

There was fried Southern food in sickening extra-large portions (do better, restaurants!).

There was laughing--lots of laughing.

And there was memory making.

Oh yeah, there was a train ride too. 

Christmas in New Zealand

We celebrated Christmas in Texarkana on the 24th this year. Or, as we agreed: New Zealand's December 25th. 

It was a small, casual affair. Marty got an air fryer. And now he is gung-ho to cook just about anything he can find to put in it. 

The kids got quilts I made them. Buckaroo walked around for a good portion of the day wrapped in his, giving me the impression he really liked it. 

Last year I learned to sew. This year I learned to garden. I have no idea what is on my retirement list for next year. 

Buckaroo's Quilt

Polly's Quilt

Two Years in Texarkana

 

Last night I went out with a few folks to the Banana Club, a 1923 basement Speakeasy, where access is still needed with code (found on Facebook). We saw a little comedy ditty, called "Christmas in Texarkana," which was obviously written and performed by locals. That's fine, locals around here seem to have quite a bit of thespian talent. 

The premise of the play was to poke fun at Texarkanas'--both cities--and the strange norms and culture. Those I was with thought the play was amusing. As for me, I was vindicated! I am not crazy. Growing up in a large city and knowing no other life, I've suffered from culture shock for the past two years. 

For example: 

Don't worry about your party finding you at the airport. There is one terminal and three flights each day. Flying to Texarkana Texas? Well, actually you are landing in Arkansas. And the plane you are flying on is so small all carryon baggage is checked because there is no room inside the cabin. 

Going to Walmart is more of a scavenger hunt than a shopping experience. There are two major Walmarts: one on the Texas side, one on the Arkansas side. They are not laid out the same way. It's best to memorize both layouts. Which reminds me, I was at the Texas Walmart once and someone brought in--I'm not making this up--their emotional support snake. 

If you need a tow truck, it will take longer to call one and wait for them to arrive, than to have a perfect stranger stop and help you. 

There is one Discount Tire in town. You know, the big chain tire retailer headquartered in Scottsdale? That one. Buckaroo works there. EVERYONE calls every tire shop in town "Discount Tire." I've been asked, "Which Discount Tire does Buckaroo work at?" many times. 

"In town" is a misnomer. Texarkana is two cities in two states. Also, "in town," could include the surrounding communities of Fouke, Genoa, Doddridge and Ashdown Arkansas as well as Redlick, Maude, Hooks, Leary, Nash, Wake Village and Redwater, Texas. I've probably missed a community or two. As the crow flies, it is about 25 miles from the farthest Texas "in town" locale to the farthest Arkansas "in town" locale. 

Need directions? Don't--I beg of you!--rely on GPS. This past week I went to someone's home. GPS had me heading one direction, the homeowner warned me in advance to follow her advice (turn after the Dollar General, go a half mile, you will see a pond on the left, pass that pond and then you will see another pond on the left... turn right after the second pond). 

Folklore says that when Texarkana was established 150 years ago, criminals would cross Stateline Road to escape the cops, because the police did not have jurisdiction in the other state. That has changed. However, I'm still fascinated to drive on a road that is half in one state and half in another. 

On the Arkansas side of Stateline Road one can stop into the liquor stores on most days of the week. Bowie County, Texas doesn't sell anything stronger than wine.   

It is common to run over a possum. It is even more common to run over a dead possum. And speaking of which, I have them hanging out in my back yard.

Also speaking of critters, they don't understand boundaries here. 

God is here. Whether it is at a Bowie County meeting, work function, a lunch in a restaurant, or the Banana Club before a silly little comedy play, expect at the very least a conversation about the Almighty, but more likely a prayer. If that isn't your thing, that's okay. It is very much a you-do-you, as long as we-can-do-we, kind of place. 

If you need a plumber, electrician, painter, carpenter or any trade in November and December you are better off looking on Youtube and learning to fix it yourself. It is hunting season, the trades are at Deer Camp.

Shopping carts are "buggies." Carbonated soft drinks are "coke." There are two kinds of brewed tea: ones that will put you into a diabetic coma or ones that are made with motor oil and the straw can stand up on its own. 

It is customary to give gifts of hand towels and mini-pillows here. I don't understand it either. 

Vegetables are easy to grow here. Which begs the question, why fry all of them? And by the way, macaroni and cheese is considered a vegetable here. As a connoisseur of macaroni and cheese, I can get behind that--as long as nobody fries it. 

People--I've met several--subconsciously start every sentence with y'all. "Y'all, hand me that buggy. I'm fixing to go into the Walmart." That kind of thing. Every sentence. At first I noticed it. Now I'm concerned I'm doing it too. 

Crime is "high." I've explained to the folks here, what they call "high crime" I call Tuesday afternoon at 2 p.m. in Phoenix. Recently a car was stolen from the parking lot of the hospital. It was reported on all the Facebook (ahem, "news") outlets. It was also reported when the criminal was caught and jailed six hours later. The thief's picture was plastered all over the place and everyone from Sunday school teachers to the mother's next door neighbors were posting about this guy. Public shaming here is real. There was a shooting in October which made the national news. The truth was, the shooting happened at a private party and the guy is in jail. And my favorite crime story: last year a few thugs came up from Shreveport to make a dash and grab at a local store. However, there were three women (who did not know each other) who were all carrying and made a citizens' arrest.   

After two years, I'm told I'm still not a Texan and certainly not a Southerner. However, nobody is willing to tell me how long it takes to be an official Texan. Maybe it happens when I automatically start my sentences with y'all. 

 

 

Bittersweet Ruminations

Update: Not ten minutes after I posted this, I got a phone call from my pal, Sally! While on the phone with Sal, I also got a text from my friend of 30+ years, Rhea. 

So far, two years into this Texas experiment, life is going well. I must say, this second year turned out better than the first. It helps when nobody dies (much less three family members) three months after a major move. Gotta tell you, grief is much easier with a support system. 

Every time I go back to Phoenix, I'm saddened. It isn't the city I grew up in. Metrocenter is gone. Bell Road is dumpy. The city no longer ends at Deer Valley. There's litter everywhere. EVERYWHERE. Traffic is gross. People are just downright grumpy. The last two times I went back there were encampments at the retention basin three houses down from my former home in Mesa. Whatever your opinion about social justice or encampments, I'm still guessing you wouldn't want this 200 feet from your front door and in the field where the neighborhood children play soccer.

I've often wondered if I would have noticed the gradual shift in Phoenix's physical environment had we not moved. After all, was this happening all along? Or did the area's decline being in January of 2022? I know I'm much more aggressive on the road and my demeanor is surly when I'm in Phoenix. Every trip comes with a wave of abject depression it takes me a month to shake.

That said, I miss my friends and family. Dearly. I'd take all the littered Phoenix streets for a hug from one of them right about now. New friends are wonderful, but they aren't the same as old friends. There's a lot to be said for the comfort which comes with being able to sit across from a long-time girlfriend, sip an iced tea and have an entire conversation with a smile and a contented sigh.  

My old friends are top of mind lately, maybe because it is the anniversary of our move. Maybe it is the time of year. I'm hoping I'm still someone they think about too.  

Year Two of Arizona Avenue

Today marks two years living in Texas (more on that later). Like last year, I took a picture every month of our home. Just because. 

 

January

February. 

It is not an exaggeration when I say it rained every week--multiple days on end--from right after Christmas until the first week of June. So, the fact I managed to take a picture in February on a sunny day is something of a miracle. 

March 

See those yellow dots in the middle of the left edge? Those are daffodils. They came out early this year because of all the rain. 

April 

My tulips are blooming in this picture. Trust me on this. 

May

The crepe myrtles in the front are starting to bloom! 

June

Because of my gardener training, I learned I had a sick lawn. Mainly it was weeds with a little bit of grass thrown in. Well, I also learned how to fix it so my lawn could look like this. And yes, this is probably my finest achievement, thus far in my master gardener training. 

July

I keep being told "Texas summers are the worst." They are "hot." They are "humid." 
Y'all, I can walk outside on the concrete barefoot in July here. I can touch my car with the palm of my hand and not get burned. These folks don't know what a hot summer is. 

As far as humidity, I am not finding it terrible. But I'd take 90 degrees and being able to go outside in July and humidity over 110 degrees and having to stay indoors.  

August

The crepe myrtles are still blooming. We have about nine crepe myrtles in the back yard as well. They are ubiquitous and drive anywhere and you will see them. When they are blooming, it reminds me of the spring in Phoenix and seeing the oleanders blooming everywhere. 

September

October

Confession: I got sick of paying the higher water bill, so I turned off the sprinklers. 

November

December

I have a plethora of silly lawn ornaments that I change out for the season. It has been commented that had I displayed them in the front yard in Mesa, they'd have been stolen. 

December Again

A few weeks ago I met Bliz in Branson, MO for a girl's weekend. I came home to find Buckaroo and Marty had bought and added Christmas lights to the front of the house. 

A Christmas Party I Attended

I went to the Thursday Lunch Bunch's Christmas party today. Most of the ladies there are Coronas. All of them are from the Church of Christ except me and, well, Tessa the Realtor (who happens to be a Corona) showed up. 

Krissy was our hostess. We all brought a dish to share and our Holiday Spirit. Oh yes! There was also a donation for kids clothes if anyone wanted to contribute. But otherwise, this party didn't break the bank. There was one shrimp dish. Krissy made sure to stick it on another counter and told everyone not to cross contaminate. 

We played silly party games, ate too much and laughed until our sides ached. I have plans with Tessa to grab tacos next week. Deb invited me to a comedy club next weekend. Gail put me on the Church of Christ's new book club Facebook group (they've changed communication venues and my name got dropped off so I've missed a meeting or two. I figured I'd eventually get that fixed, but I'd been in no hurry). Oh yes, I was able to pass along to Jenny next year's Master Gardener class info. 

If I ever wondered whether I was still an outsider or imposter trying to fit in, I think I can give that up now. 

Certifiable

I'm still on the mend. I'd probably be 100 percent healthy if (ahem) "Luna" didn't snore like a chainsaw  and I got more than three hours of sleep. The worst part about being up all night? There's little to do. It's too cold to play in the garage. The computer and sewing machine are in the master bedroom. The house is too small to turn on the television without waking anyone. So, I scrubbed the shower and deep cleaned the kitchen. Then I turned to a book.

Anyway, after I write this, I'm going back to sleep. 

Yesterday I was looking for a phone number on the Master Gardener Web site, when, to my surprise, I discovered my status had changed. I'm no longer an "Intern." I've met the requirements necessary and am now a Certified Master Gardener. 

Cool. I can check that off my 2023 Bucket List. 

Next week there's the Master Gardener Christmas party--this is East Texas, nobody does "holiday" parties--where I'm told we will gather and clap over the three of us who achieved their certification thus far. This is a pretty chill group, but I'm okay skipping the whole clapping thing. For that matter, I'm okay skipping the whole give-me-attention thing. 

However, in order to go to this shin-dig, I'm required to cough up ten bucks to pay for a crummy meal I probably won't eat. Trust me, I know exactly where they got this catered chicken spaghetti from. I'm also required to bring a gift "up to $25 in value" for the White Elephant Gift Exchange Dirty Santa game. And oh yes! Everyone is asked to contribute some sort of garden-themed door prize. Fortunately, there's three Dollar Generals within a mile of my home. At the moment, they are all starting to carry their spring line of merch. 

What ever happened to just hanging out and talking plants? Or, just hanging out?  

Marty thinks I should go. I'm thinking I'm too sleep deprived at this moment to make this decision.  

A Winter's* Nap

*I realize the calendar says autumn for two more weeks. However, it was 29 degrees last night.

I've been sick. I probably was sick long before I declared I was sick. And if I'd just paid attention, I might have been up and running faster. Right now I'm in the punky, I-want-a-nap-but-there's-no-reasonable-reason-why-I-can't-load-the-dishwasher phase of sick. I'm still debating if I'm healthy enough to go to barre tonight. I'll decide after my nap.

The good news about this development is it kyboshed a few extra social activities from my schedule. Tell me why everyone feels the need to socialize in December? Those who want to celebrate Groundhog Day: they are my people. 

In other news: I'm shopping for an insurance agent. I found one last week. I was ready to write the policy and she ghosted me. I'm still scratching my head over this one. I don't beg people to take my money and I don't give money to flakes. Hence, looking for a new insurance agent who writes Texas Blue Cross policies. But it has to happen this week because open market ends Friday.

Also, as I mentioned, I have a barre class tonight. I would be excited if I had the energy. When I moved here, I looked at the three yoga studios in town and decided I didn't care for any of them. All exclusively handled hot yoga and nothing else. One of the studios has now moved to downtown and is expanding their line of classes to regular yoga (yay!), pilates and barre. I haven't done barre since before the lockdown. But I remember liking it. 

Off for a nap and then to make a call or two for an insurance agent. Surely someone around here wants to write a policy.