Murray Kentucky

Though it fits my criteria of a suitable place to live because it has more than one Dollar General, I'm not moving here. Though I would. In a heartbeat. This place is cute. 

I'm currently sitting in Murray Kentucky. The town of about 20,000 and the closest metropolis is Paducah, about an hour away. The town is home to Murray State University and the Fighting Murrays? Fighting Murrs? Fighting Rays? I have no idea. I looked at the list of notable folks from Murray and the only one I half-recognized was the eldest sister of Michael, Tito and Janet Jackson. 

I sent this picture to Sherman, who is currently in Washington D.C., looking for housing.
He starts law school in the fall. I suggested he try here instead. 

On Tuesday I drove eight hours and passed through five states to Murray to join my pal, Valerie and her adorable mother. Mama lives in Murray. This is "Quilt Week" in Paducah. Quilt Week is BIG in these parts. Allegedly people come from hither and yon to look at quilts, discuss all things quilting and pick up copious amounts of fabric. 

A quick comment about the copious amounts of fabric. I was in a fabric store yesterday, on the phone with Marty who said, "You have a bathtub full of fabric. You don't need more." I shifted to plants--we were heading to a plant store after the fabric store. He pointed out I don't need more of those either. There seems to be a large Venn crossover between quilters and plant hoarders.   

Anyway, back to Tuesday. I'd no sooner stepped out of my car when Val, her adorable mother and me packed our dinners and headed over to the Calloway County Extension office where the Extension Homemakers had their meeting. Thursday's topic? Food preservation. Quilts. And if you feel like you've read that before, you have. Val dragged me to a different Extension Homemakers meeting earlier in the month where the topic was quilts. 

Back to this meeting. There were forty folks there--all members--and me. (Valerie is a member of this one AND the one in Texarkana Arkansas.) Members brought quilts they were donating for a variety of charities: Veterans, children in crisis, cancer patients, dialysis. Also, members brought personal quilts and told the stories about them (A favorite story: "I made this for my baby girl in 1963, my great-granddaughter now uses it"). Oh yes! There was some sort of quilt contest where members voted on the best one. Adorable Mama won! Honestly it was a no-brainer, though she was surprised. 

This is Adorable Mama's quilt (her head is peeking out).
This quilt is a testament to my poor photography skills, because this quilt is gorgeous. 

They Are Back

It's turtle season. That means Luna is bringing us turtles from the back yard. 

Per our usual routine, we take a sharpie and write the number on the back before we release the critter into the front yard or down the street. Luna is currently working hard to beat her 2023 record of 10 turtles in one season. 

But seriously, where do these things come from?  

Sunday Morning's Visitor

I post too much about critters because East Texas has their fair share and it's slightly more interesting than writing about the weather. 

Anyway, look at this guy, scurrying along my fence yesterday morning, coming home from a long night of doing whatever these creatures do in the middle of the night. 

The picture really doesn't capture the size.
He's bigger than Roosevelt, our 10 pound house cat. 

The only reason I knew he was there was because Luna was outside and started barking her "critter bark"--its a thing. I was the only one awake. When I went to investigate, I dreaded what would happen if I had been an armadillo (they carry leprosy) or snake (nope). Gonna go out on a limb and say, I did not sign up for either. 

So there I was... Luna was barking up a storm and pushing the fence so hard I thought she'd either knock the dude or the fence down. Neither option made for a pleasant morning. As soon as the guy saw me, he froze in place, ensuring Luna jumped harder and barked longer. After sorting everything out, I dragged her inside. Wouldn't you know it! The possum struck this pose for about ten minutes while I watched, facinated, from the window. 

Oh yes, possums will also eat snakes, so I don't mind him hanging around. Even if Luna has other opinions. 

A Nothing Post

I just want to put this out there. 

Marty has another interview with another company next week. This will be two interviews in three weeks. 

Now then. There was a third "interview" with a third company. However, it consisted of Marty staring into his computer's camera, making a video about himself and answering a host of provided questions. He never spoke with anyone in person. In his assessment, he said he came across as a first-time podcaster whose only subscribers were his favorite aunt and mother.  

Though we aren't hurting for food and shelter, the lack of employment is affecting each of us in a variety of awful ways. So, if in your charity, you could send positive vibes, juju, or prayers (Honestly, I'm not fussy) to your choice of places, I'd really appreciate it. 

I need this season to come to an end sooner than later.  

Diabetic Coma Week

Let me just say this: I love the people around here. They are amazing. Also, I'm not a diabetic. But this week I ate like I want to be. 

I had a birthday. 

Polly made blueberry cobbler for Easter/my birthday (not the same day, but close enough). The blueberries were the ones I picked a couple years ago in Fouke and froze for a special occasion. It was probably the best blueberry cobbler ever. EVER! She also made ice cream, but primarily she made the ice cream for Sherman, because he doesn't like cobbler. Or, he didn't like cobbler until he tasted Polly's. 

Peanut Butter Pie.
Even looking at it makes my
pancreas cower in the corner. 
But... nom... nom... nom...

On Monday, I met Deb and a boatload of other folks for dinner. Deb made me a peanut butter pie. I'd never had one before. And let me say, it was absolutely fabulous. For my birthday gift, Deb gave me the recipe because she doesn't want to make one ever again. There are probably 20,000 calories a slice and a portion of it is residing in my freezer. But if you ever have the chance to eat peanut butter pie, I recommend it. 

On Tuesday, I went to the Pike County Extension Homemakers meeting. When lunch came around, the potluck consisted of mayonnaise, mayonnaise* and rich chocolate cake. I was hungry. I'm not apologizing. The end. Afterward, Val and I walked around downtown Murfreesboro, where she surprised me with a birthday ice cream. I ate three bites and apologized for not finishing it. All the while I worried about my weeping endocrine system. 

Yesterday, the Thursday Lunch Bunch celebrated my birthday. Corona Jan brought cupcakes. I blew out my candle and passed on the cupcake, encouraging someone else to take them home. 

I must finally be a grown-up because I recognized I've eaten my quota of sugar for the week.  

*Someone bragged--BRAGGED--that the food they brought was "mayonnaise free" because she used Miracle Whip, as if that is any less gross. 

The Pike County Extension Homemakers Meeting

This past week, my pal Val dragged me to the Pike County Extension Homemakers meeting. I'll unpack this for you. 

Pike County is somewhere in Southwest Arkansas*. It's claim to fame is that it is the home to the Crater of the Diamonds State Park, the largest you-dig diamond mine in the US. Small cities named, Murfreesboro, Delight, East Delight, Daisy, Kirby and Hopewell reside in Pike County. The entire county has a population of around 10,000, so take the term, "cities" lightly.

Printed inside is the agenda and the
"Extension Homemaker" creed. 

The Extension Homemakers is a volunteer group focusing on family sciences ("home economics" is the term I heard in school). They meet to discuss such topics as food preservation, sewing, community involvement, cooking, gardening and whatever else falls into this category. Val has been trying to get me to join and I've begged off. Anyway, the Extension Homemakers is big around here. 

The Pike County Extension Homemakers held their meeting and opened it up to the area. And the area responded with a ton of people driving from all over to attend. Val and I drove about 70 miles. The day's topic was on quilting. 

Here's the great news. Many folks brought quilts and most told a brief story behind the quilt. One woman had been in a coma at the age of 37. She remembered nothing from before her accident. He daughter brought her a quilt and explained that the woman had made it for her. Another brought her baby quilt telling the story of her mother, finding out she was pregnant after her father went off to WW2. Her mother worked as a phone operator during the day and made the quilt at night. She didn't meet her father for four years and has memories of dragging it with her, out the door the day her dad came home from the war. Those kinds of stories.  

Here's the not great news. Our speaker, Mr. Sam Somebodyoranother, I heard talk two months ago when Val dragged me to a homesteaders conference. He gave the same talk, which he did not deviate from in the slightest. And dare I say, he gave the talk to the same audience. 

I did find out this time Mr. and Mrs. Sam worked for twenty years as school teachers in Fort Defiance AZ (on the Navajo reservation) and we spent a fun moment boring Val about all things Arizona. Fabulous fact: my father helped build the massive powerplant outside of Holbrook, AZ. The Sams and Val know this. And now you do too. 

Lunch was a combination of mayonnaise-based foods and super-sweet desserts. Though I would have had more than grapes, cheese and crackers (plus one of those pieces of cake) had their been more options, I would have been shocked if anything else had been served. Which brings me to this: if this is a group "dedicated" to food management and a better lifestyle, why couldn't the menu be more varied? Sigh... I guess I should be happy there wasn't a chicken spaghetti in sight. 

I am not going to inundate you with the thousands of quilt pictures I took, but these two are worth a view. 

A BOOK QUILT!!!! 

This is hand sewn. That means, a needle and thread.
Though this picture doesn't do it justice, there are so many intricate details.
It was by-far the most elegant quilt there. 

*The only reason this is a foot note is because I couldn't figure out where else to put my glowing adulation. Arkansas is one of the most underrated states. It is gorgeous. The people are wonderful. The vibe is terrific. Little Rock is pretty cool and has the metropolitan feel without being too big. And if there was work for Marty almost anywhere in the state, I'd be on board in a heartbeat.  

An Easter Tale of Two Churches

Let me put this out there. 

Sunday, I went to Easter mass at the Catholic church. I arrived early enough to find a suitable place to sit. In the lobby and even after I sat down, I smiled and said, "hello," and "happy Easter" to a handful of folks. NOBODY responded. 

Nobody! 

Not one! 

Nada!

NOT EVEN PEOPLE WHO KNOW MY NAME could be charitable enough to say hello. 

Given this is the South, this must have killed these folks not to be friendly. 

Also, nobody originally sat next to me. I had 95 percent of a pew to myself. I saw Sherman across the way, holding a seat for his girl* but he was too far away for me to make any kind of polite acknowledgement. 

With five minutes to go before mass, a father of a family of four came over, asked if I was holding the pew and proceeded to sit him and his family next to me. As the family walked by, I said, "Hello," "Good morning," and "happy Easter." No acknowledgement. Sheesh. 

Polly ran in and slid next to Sherman right before mass started. I looked at the time. If I hurried I could make service at the Church of Christ.  

So, I did. 

As soon as I arrived at the Church of Christ, I met Corona Patty at the entrance. She said hello, good morning AND happy Easter. I met up with Ms. Judy** and chatted with her for a bit before Corona Gail slid in, grabbed both of our shoulders and declared, "Two of my favorite people." And I'm certain she meant it. 

Ms. Jane (her first name is "Ms.") greeted me with an, "I heard you..." and then proceeded to tell me the latest bit of gossip about me. I also corrected her while being in too good a mood to hold a grudge against Little Miss Hates Me for spreading such things--I know she was the source, bless her heart. And honestly, I don't care.   

At the pew, Corona Joan gave me a hug and I whispered, "Just fled mass." Corona Joan is also Catholic, whispered back. "Good move." Her Majesty, Deb, Queen of The Everything came in and sat next to me. That is, until she smelled a new person, jumped past Joan and myself, greeting the newcomer and inviting the unsuspecting woman to six upcoming events. And this is all before the service started. 

I sat in the pew during service with a light heart, genuinely happy to be there. This was a mass of loving folks all living in communion. 

*I explained to Sherman that day at Easter lunch, he could have a girlfriend with long beautiful hair or he could have a girlfriend who arrived anywhere on time. 

**Someday I simply must write a blog post about this beautiful soul.