A Week in the Sunshine Life

Roosevelt, having opinions.
This suitcase is on top of our unacceptable bedspread, Tessa covered up with her "acceptable" one.  

This past week: 

Sunday: we had a good-bye party for Sherman, who is starting law school in Washington DC.

Monday: we had an accepted offer on hour house and planned on leaving for Florida on Wednesday. Polly helped Sherman pack his apartment and take care of this and that. 

Tuesday: we no longer had an accepted offer on our house and I raced over to Buckaroo's job to tell him not to quit just yet. He said, "Does that mean you will be home Thursday? I'm only asking, because I planned a party because I didn't think you'd be home." I helped Valerie in her sewing class.  

Wednesday: we accepted another offer. Marty and I spent the day staring at homes and trying to figure out where in Florida we wanted to live. Polly helped Sherman get his belongings together. 

Thursday: In order not to infringe on Buck's party, and the fact Sherman and Polly would soon be parting, we took off for Natchitoches Louisiana. It's two hours away and we needed to reset from the crazy week.  It was a French fort back in the day, before the Louisiana purchase and the area is chock-full of interesting history. Polly helped Sherman finalize his move. 

Friday: We came home to the aftermath of Buck's party--a few pizza boxes, a bag of stale chips, and a very full trash can. We also heard from Polly, who was doing a quick turnaround trip with Sherman to Atlanta to visit his folks before turning North towards Washington DC. I went to Corona night, ate way too much sugar and laughed like I'd never laughed before. I got home at 11:30, after coming in third in Mexican Train. Oh yes! I finalized my book. The Redeemed comes out September 22, because why not launch a book in the middle of another major life event? 

Saturday--today: I got up around 5 a.m. Marty and I drove to Quincy Florida, where I'm writing at this moment. Marty is watching some Spiderman movie. Polly is back from her turnaround trip, as she flew into Shreveport today, and a friend picked her up and took her back home. Buck assures me the Overlords are fine and he isn't planning on having a party tonight. I've talked to my Florida real estate agent and we have a game plan for Monday.

I'm tired. 

A few Natchitoches pictures. The last two are Fort Jean Baptiste. A very interesting place, which was settled in the 1700s. 

My Coronas

I sent a note out on Tuesday, saying I wouldn't be at Corona Night. We had a contract on the house and Marty and I were leaving Wednesday to Florida to buy a home. 

Messages poured in. Love notes about how much they would miss me. And how could this really be happening? The text messages were the kind of friendship a girl could ever ask for. Their notes made me feel happy, loved and wanted. 

Then Tessa called and said something along the lines of "Remember that offer? Well, it is no more." 

About that time, Corona Krissy chimed in with a private message about how much I mean to her and how she'd miss me, not only at Corona Night but in general. So I told her we no longer have a deal, I just didn't feel like updating about how life had changed. Krissy asked me if she could do it for me. So, she did. It just said, I'd be at Corona night because I'd just gotten word the deal fell through. 

Tuesday afternoon, just about every Corona reached out to me, offering me love and support. Some notes were private. Some were public on the group thread. All messages were kind and made me feel happy, loved and wanted. It was all the friendship a girl could ever ask for. 

Valerie's Beginning Sewing Class

So my friend Valerie is teaching a sewing class. She is on week two and has 10 students. Normally she has six. In an effort to get out of my home, I offered to come hang out in her class and answer a question or two. That was the theory. The reality was she had 10 Gen Z students, who were expecting Instagram-worthy outcomes on their second day of class. 

Cami latched on to me and was afraid to make a move unless I hovered nearby. Though she is very sweet, it wasn't realistic because there was only one of Valerie and nine others who were having troubles of their own. 

But Cami was nothing compared to the 20-something girl who walked in with a crappy attitude, which screamed, "I am in hell and don't want to be here!" My first thought was, "You are here. You paid for this class? Why?" The girl asked, "What do I do?" I prompted her to thread her machine. "I don't know how." She replied and folded her arms. "Get out your thread..." I started, pointing at the spindle where the thread goes. With all the attitude of a preteen girl who'd spent the night at a friend's house, she complied and rolled her eyes. She asked, "Now what?" And yes, it went like this, step by step, with this grown-ass uncooperative woman rolling her eyes at every instruction. 

Anyway, this chick started out as a nightmare, full of vinegar. At one point she said, "I'm having a bad day." And oh boy! Was that not the moment to say that to me*. I gave her a rundown on MY day and all of the sudden this brat softened her stance. By the time I got back to her after dashing over to Cami who needed a pat on the back, the girl had managed to figure out how to sew the first part of her pillow case. And when I told her she did a great job, she turned into a whole different person. It is interesting that both of these young women were so anxious about sewing and handled it so differently. 

There were eight others in various levels of learning who had questions and needed assistance. We covered them all in two and a half hours and congratulated every one when they completed the project. Everyone other than Cami finished their pillow case before class ended--but Cami has promised to send me a photo when her pillow case is done.   

*I had a really, really BAD day. 

Looks Liike I'm Gonna Miss Next Week's Corona Night

72 hours into this tedious task.

We got an offer on our home. That was the plan, right? We are told we are getting a second offer. Of course an "offer" doesn't mean we are accepting what the buyer is asking for and hopefully the second offer will be a bit more attractive. But, oh my! After three showings, this is certainly news. 

I'm trying to be excited. Instead, I'm sitting in Polly's room--she has the only desk in the house that isn't in storage--working on a few formatting edits (hyphenations mostly), ignoring the world around me. I need to get these edits done because Marty and I, once we accept an offer, need to high-tail ourselves to Florida to go house-shopping. In truth, I doubt even if I wasn't working on these edits that I'd be excited. 

The rest of the family can be excited for me.  

Small Town Facebook

This is so sweet. What's even cooler is the number of responses this person got. All positive. All helpful. I hope the person posting finds her delivery driver. 

Our Home on Arizona Avenue

The house is on the market. As of the time I'm writing this, we've had one showing. Welcome to a soft housing market in a small city. 

To commemorate the tidiness of our home, here are a few pictures. Mind you, I doubt we can keep up this level of declutter (we do keep the place clean). But I thought I'd let you see what the magic of camera filters can do. 

Our grass really is this green, thankyouverymuch.

This originally was earmarked as my sitting room. However, Buck used it as his man-cave up until last week. I'm sitting in that chair right now typing this up because my desk is packed.

Oh, and that green table? Buck refinished it last winter. He's very proud of it and we like it.
I fought Tessa to keep it in the house. That's also my Dad's stained glass lamp on top of it. The table on the other side of the chair was also one of my refinishing projects. 

For the record, that fire is photoshopped. The table in the forefront is solid walnut, and yep, refinished.

I hate that backsplash.

Polly is housesitting for Tessa this week. She brought back the bedspread. 

The greenhouse looks so small. The yard is pretty large. And the grass really is that green thankyouverymuch. 

The Coffee Shop Crawl

Deb had never been to the Stained Page. How this happened, I have zero idea. So, I met her Friday morning at the best coffee shop/book shop in town. Don, the owner, greeted me (adding to Deb's theory that I know everyone in town). He also told me I'd sold another book (squee!). 

I'm here a lot.

Anyway, Deb and I sat and visited. For me, I hadn't been out of the house much for anything memorable in weeks. The packing the house had been priority. But spending time with Deb is always special. I know it's coming to an end soon, but I'm trying not to think about that. 

After enjoying my tea and she enjoying her coffee, we made our way a quarter mile to Good Luxe, another local coffee shop. We just breezed in, decided their selection and prices weren't for us and breezed out just as quickly. 

We didn't feel the vibe.

From there we went to the newest coffee joint in town. I don't know the name (it used to be called Alley Cats). This old time train car serves coffee and "food." However, they were out of coffee. We ordered a breakfast burrito plate to split. I asked for water and was told they don't "serve" water. So, I asked for a cup of ice. They do serve that. Deb looked at the beverage selections and opted for beer to go with her Mexican breakfast. She was disappointed on both fronts. First, she ended up with a non-alcoholic beer. And second "breakfast burrito" was a generous phrase for this lump of unacceptable grossness. I believe it is covered with soy cheese filled with mock-sausage. We ate about two bites and high-tailed it out, with my cup of ice in tow. 

Inside an old time train car

Toxic waste

After that atrocity, Deb and I walked around downtown. She showed me where the Woolworths used to be. And the JC Penny. And the first Dillard's Department Store* had been located. She told me of coming to downtown Texarkana as a teenager and a young adult, giving me town history and sharing her lore.  At some point, we meandered into a cute little gift shop. If I wasn't in the process of packing up my worldly belongings and if Marty wasn't out of work, I might have dropped a few bucks on another garden gadget. Probably. I mean, can one really have enough garden whirligigs?  

Downtown Texarkana (Arkansas)

As we made our way back to the car we made one final stop at Kilwins. They'd just opened up as well and were nowhere near as icky as the train car place. Kilwins is an ice cream and candy chain, with locations all over the South. I'd never heard of them before last Friday, but I had plenty of time to check them out while Deb shopped for gifts for a few Coronas who have birthdays coming up. 

There happens to be two locations in the Orlando area. So I've heard.

I've decided, when I grow up, I want to be just like Deb. 

*A word about Dillard's Department Store. The FIRST location was a small five and dime in Nashville Arkansas--about 50ish miles from here. Mr. Dillard wanted to expand, so he closed his Nashville location and opened a bonified department store in Texarkana. That was the flagship for his empire, which happens to have its corporate headquarters in Little Rock. 

Just a Day in the Life

What a day! After a master gardener event this morning, I met the Thursday lunch bunch at Jason's Deli. The ladies suggested many ways to make my house not sell, including they'd drive by and throw trash in my front yard. What a way to tell someone they'll be missed. 

When I got home, I stared at my ultra-clean house and sighed. Today is the last day before our home goes on the market. It's clean and all but Roosevelt cares about this. Roosey would rather eat the silk flowers Tessa brought over and knock the vases to the floor in protest. Not that I blame him. 

Anyway, after about thirty minutes of wandering around aimlessly, I convinced Marty to go on a road trip. We ended up in Idabel Oklahoma, which is about an hour away. I'd tell you it was a cultural excursion, but we'd both know I was lying. Idabel is a dump.

For those of you who love-love-love Oklahoma!
This is the "Welcome to Oklahoma" sign taken in Arkansas while driving 70 miles an hour.

Marty and I did find one thrift store, which did not have my 9" mixing bowl I'm trying to replace. I was told by the shop owner, what I'm looking for is "valuable" because it's pyrex (lower case). It isn't. I can replace the entire set of mixing bowls for less than $20 mail order. I only need one bowl. So, the the hunt continues.

We also wandered into a weird convenience store/fast food restaurant called, "Braums." I've heard folks in Texarkana rave about the place, waiting for one to magically appear in our town. However, I didn't understand the appeal with the overpriced groceries and a questionable-looking kitchen to cook a burger.  

I did find a place called "Mia's." Though we didn't stop, I did take a picture of the front and side and sent it to my pal, Mia*, telling her if the whole physician thing doesn't work out, it looks like she has a backup plan and it consists of Jesus and diabetes. 

Mia replied, "I like you, even if you are crazy and watch baseball." 

The side of Mia's Sweet Tooth 

After all our travels, Marty and I stopped by Big Jakes BBQ and bought an order of ribs. We made it home by 5 p.m., made a salad and ate dinner. 

 

*One of these days, I simply should write about my pal Mia, who I spend almost every Wednesday with. But not today. 

Staging

The house is more or less ready to be listed. I guess. Or I thought it was when I told Tessa to order the photographer. 

When I sold houses in Arizona, the rule was less is more. Declutter. Depersonalize. If you have pictures on the wall, it distracts buyers from looking at the features of the house. But, what do I know? 

Our décor style is minimal-eclectic. Most of this has been boxed and stuck in Uboxes. We bought new stuff 28 years ago. Since then we had gifted artist children, whose pictures (and photos) graced our walls. I've refinished several pieces of furniture, which we use. My children have quilts which were hand-made and live on their beds. Plus, my father was an accomplished stained-glass artist, and I have several of his lamps and this beauty that I love, and I would have done a lot of low and dirty things if my brothers even thought about claiming this for themselves when my father died. 

My Daddy made this.

Anyway, Tessa came over yesterday and decided our décor was too white trashy "abrupt" for buyers. "Abrupt" she explained would turn buyers off. For example, the table cloth on our kitchen table "makes the house look like old people live here." Or--hear me out--the table cloth hides the stained and scratched kitchen table. She brought over a table runner and jug to decorate our kitchen table. That table runner will not be on the table before we wake in the morning, because the Overlords LOVE playing under tablecloths when nobody is looking. I'm moving the jug to the counter. Oh yes! She also put an area rug under the kitchen table. Why? I don't know. Something else to vacuum.

Additionally, Tessa told me to buy more fruit for my fruit bowl, because it looks "too empty." I can't eat more fruit! I eat an apple a day, buying enough apples to fill the bowl would be another 10 day's worth of apples. Nope. 

She felt our bedspread needed to be changed out to bring "color" to our bedroom. Because, white and purple aren't colors, I guess. So, she brought us new bedding. Because colorful bedding sells houses. 

This hideous bedspread is being removed exactly
1.3 nanoseconds after the photographer leaves. 

She also insisted that Polly's quilt should be covered up, calling Polly's quilt "old lady" which totally pissed off my daughter. To Tessa's credit, she didn't have any comments about the lamp in her bedroom. 

Colorful but not as unsightly as my bed. But Polly wants her quilt.

To be fair, Tessa is a great agent. She sells more than anyone else in the area. She has great instincts. But I honestly don't think that adding throw pillows to my couch or grouping my lighthouse pictures on my wall and adding a nautical shrine to a corner of my house that never had, needed or wanted a nautical shrine really matters in a starter home in Wake Village. This isn't a Paradise Valley mega mansion. 

I'm not making this up. 
(excuse the paper towel roll)

The housing market is soft. I don't expect this house to sell very quickly. So, maybe adding fake flowers and white rolled up wash cloths in my bathroom (you know, for "color") will be what it takes to bring in a buyer.  

Getting the House Ready

Oh the act of moving is so delightful. We've been packing, cleaning and getting on each other's nerves for the last two weeks. Our steam mop finally decided it had enough and gave out today.

Thank you for your service

Don't Mess with This One

Found this photo when I was cleaning out something this past week. Polly from our trip to Galveston a couple of years ago. 

Packing Update

Not to brag or anything, but today the Sunshines ate take-out chicken wings at the kitchen table. All four of us. On one mostly-cleaned off table. And--get this!--we moved enough boxes out of the way so that Luna could get to her water bowl. Because that's the crazy way we roll. 

In other news, we have three Uboxes completely packed and the master bathroom has been deep cleaned--except the floor, which I'm too tired to do anything about right now. 

In other-other news, with random doors open as we hauled stuff outside, Leon only escaped twice today. The second time I found him by looking into the sky and seeing where the hawk circled. $*%&! cat. 

Oh yes. I want to commemorate our clean garage in posterity. We earned it.