A Random Texarkana Wednesday

Today I met Master Gardener and amazing pal, Joy, for my first Master Gardener event in 2026. Every Wednesday she and a few others meet at a group home for the developmentally disabled and work with the residents in the greenhouse.  

I told Joy my news: the house is going on the market (if Tessa ever calls me back). "What?! This seems sudden!" Joy isn't one for sarcasm. And she didn't mean it that way. But I did point out this has been in the works since December and she's known this was a distinct possibility. She's still perplexed. 

By the way, this greenhouse is awesome. The fire ant colony I encountered in the planter in front of the greenhouse, not so much. 

 

***

After I finished, I called Corona Gail so that I could return a book she'd lent me for next week's book club. Fortunately, I'd only had this book for a week. Given this is the South, I knew what I'd be in for. It is almost impossible to just "drop off a book." But I adore--ADORE--Corona Gail so I didn't mind that I ended up visiting with her for a couple of hours.

 Corona Gail has been the new kid to a new town. She knows I'm struggling with the idea of starting over. We sat on her back porch, while she offered sisterly advice and made me remember how much I love her. I told her about my experience at my first Corona night four years ago and how terrified I'd been just showing up in the throes of grief (my father and my aunt had just died). Looking back, I know I laughed more that first night than I ever had. I left with a sense of gratitude for being included and not anticipating there'd be more. I told Corona Gail I want to know I can find friends like that again. She assures me I'll be fine. 

***

When I returned home, I got a text saying our Uboxes were on their way from Shreveport. They arrived a couple of hours later. So far, they are empty and I have no energy to fill them. The weather is promising a reprieve for a few days and we are motivated to get them loaded before the next thunderstorm. I think we've got a week. 

 

The Spirit is Thinking About Being Willing

Yesterday, I cleaned out the bathroom cabinets and took a box of hotel toiletries and free samples I'd accumulated in the last 4.5 years to the domestic violence shelter. Additionally, I managed to pack three totes with blankets and sheets and send others (along with a bag of Marty's t-shirts) thrift stores in town. And given this is East Texas, I've already forged into the packed totes to grab additional blankets--in JUNE. Because the weather here is nuts. 

Speaking of nutty weather... Marty and I made a pinky promise to start working on the garage today. Except it is raining like crazy and when it rains, our garage floor is wet. So, that's on hold. 

And the crazy weather is also making the interior of the house VERY dark. For whatever reason, Marty has gotten to an age where he can't stand overhead lights so I'm tripping over the frightened dog because of the lightening and the fact I can't see where I'm going.  I need to live where there is sunlight. There. I said it. 

Also last night, Tessa replied to my 14 hour-old text, telling me she wasn't ignoring me. She'd had a crazy day and would call me in an hour. I told her we could talk today. What I didn't tell her is tomorrow or Thursday is good too.

 Today I'm going to putter around and do other tasks until the rain stops and we can air out the garage. And then I will go back to my babystep to-do list.  

Update: Nah... it didn't happen. I have zero motivation to pack and move. And when Tessa texted me today, I put that off too. This isn't passive aggressiveness. I swear. It's a lack of interest.  

The Spirit is Willing

This past weekend, we decided to put our house on the market. Our "go" date is July 10, where it will probably sit on the market for months anyway.  

Between now and then, I need to let my realtor know she's listing it. 

Also between now and then I need to get the house ready to sell. 

So far all I've done is buy a few plastic totes from Dollar General and thought about decluttering. Oh yes! I wrote a bit of my newest story and played Words with Friends. So, there's that. 

 

Former Vocation PTSD

I've had to turn to the layman standard for looking at homes--Zillow. Many listings have superimposed furniture in them for buyers who can't figure out where the couch should go in an empty room. And to be honest, there are a few homes where I understand the virtual staging. I've seen where I can't figure out where the couch would go either. But I'm sure if the previous homeowner figured it out, so would I. 

Though I can see past the virtual staging, I'm having a tough time with stretched pictures. Is that a space for a refrigerator or a king sized bed? I've started counting floor tiles to determine how wide a room might be instead of marveling at the massive bathroom (which, according to the floor tiles is probably less than 5 feet wide). 

But the worst for me is that I apparently can't get the realtor out of my veins. I am barking at the real estate folks who posted the pictures, saying things like, "Could you have put the toilet seat down before you snapped the picture?" and "Nobody cares that your seller keeps a philodendron on the kitchen counter!" 

Or, this view of garage wall. Why? And is that floor tiles?  

Or this? I'm not shaming the sellers here. Perhaps they are stressed and overwhelmed--Heaven knows I am, and my home isn't even on the market! But the agent didn't have to put this picture on the MLS (which directly feeds to all the Zillow-type web sites). I mean? What do you do with this bedroom/dining nook/closet? Alas, if it were only virtually staged. 

Marty commented after my head exploded with my 235th tirade, lovingly suggesting maybe it's time to bring back my Bad MLS photos posts again. Perhaps it is. 

Unemployment Update

It's been nine months since Marty's departure from Dante's fourth ring of eternal damnation. And nobody around here is sad he isn't there any more. We haven't starved. Our bills are mostly paid. Mostly meaning, it wasn't the trip to Florida that sucker punched our credit card--Marty and I are efficient travelers. It was car repairs and a few other unexpected hits which followed. 

Marty has come to the realization there's no work in Texarkana. He can't do what he's done for years and while he's here, Marty doesn't want to do anything else. And unfortunately, I mean that literally, not figuratively. Therefore, a potential move to Florida is back on the table. 

Yesterday, I met with Tessa and drilled her about the state of the real estate market. It's soft. I knew this because I can see what's going on around me. I've also talked with the loan officer in Florida, about options if it takes a few months to sell. The wheels are starting to spin. I even broke down and opened up Zillow to see what's for sale over there.  

At this point it is safe to say we are in the "early stages" of another move. The house is a cluttered disaster. Four adults, one dog and two cats under one roof does not make for good showability. So, that's the next step: declutter, degrease and deep clean. 

When, "Here's Your Book. Thanks." Would be Considered Tacky

I realized I held on to Ms. Cindy's book too long. I found it on my book shelf and remembered I read it about two years ago. And Oh $@*&! I hadn't returned it. 

I live in Texarkana Texas. Residents have a Texan attitude and Southern manners, which meant there was no easy way to return a wayward item--even one that isn't missed--without a long, drawn out apology, which I provided and Ms. Cindy graciously cast aside with the manners of a Bible Belt belle. 

The book in question was returned to her front porch this past week, along with a humble handwritten note and tomatoes from my garden as loan interest. Additionally, I sent a text, telling her where she'd find the book and commenting on her adorable (she is adorable) dog who peeked at me through the window. 

Ms. Cindy responded in kind, thanking me for doing this right. 

Luna Brought a Bit of the Desert With Her

An Exhausted Luna After Being Probed By Doc P.

Luna has been sick since we moved here. Very sick. 

Last winter Doc P figured out what was going on with our poor puppy. She had this disease he'd heard of in Vet school, but never saw in real life: Valley Fever. 

On the remote chance you might read this and not be from Arizona, Valley Fever is a disease anyone who has lived in the Phoenix area for more than a year has contacted. It is caused by spores in the air. Generally there's an initial "outbreak," like a cough, or a strange illness which takes the person down for two weeks, or maybe the outbreak is nothing at all. Sometimes there might be another flair-up if the patient has a crummy immune system. But, for the most part, it just remains dormant in the system and becomes something we live with. However, if you have lived there, you've been exposed. 

And yes, pets can get it too. However, animals in East Texas don't normally have this. So, when Doc P deep dived into Luna's wild health issue, this was the last diagnosis he ever intended to make. 

And I'm glad he did because Luna's health is so much better than a year ago. With her thyroid under control and her fungal infection gone, she's running and even can jump onto the bed. She has more energy than I've seen in a long time. Yes, she's aged terribly (a gray muzzle now), but she's defiantly got some spark left in her. And she's even gained back the majority of the weight she's lost in the past year. 

How does Luna feel about this? Well, as far as she'd concerned. Doc P is the devil. He sticks needles in her. He violates her boundaries without even offering her a treat. He's made her sleep in a cage overnight, away from her kittens and the rest of us. He's a big stinky meany. 

We, however, are grateful Doc P didn't give up on her.