Tomato Tragedy

The one ravaged survivor

I went to a tomato grafting class. I drove all the way to Mount Pleasant for this class. I learned how and why grafting is good. 

Then I took my three tomato plants home and followed the directions. Keep in total darkness for three days. Day four repot into a bigger container, add soil and fertilizer. Because it's been over 90 degrees, keep them inside instead of in a greenhouse. You know, treat them like the fragile babies they are.

After 10 days the plants can go live in the garden as free range tomato plants. 

After 60 days harvest and eat all the tomatoes my heart desires. 

My heart desires a lot of tomatoes. 

All of that is well and good, but I didn't factor one teensy, tiny issue. The Overlords. 

The Town has about 865 People. Maybe

My nephew, Patrick, hanging out
with the Fouke Monster

Fouke Arkansas, the rural town about 15 miles from Texarkana has a Dollar General, Monster Mart (tourist trap convenience store with a room dedicated to Fouke Monster merch) and another convenience store across the street. On the outskirts there's also a liquor store where they sell alcohol for wildly crazy prices.* My hair stylist has a shop right next door. Fouke also probably has at least one Church of Christ and Baptist church--though I'd put money on more than one. There used to be an authentic Mexican restaurant there with amazing street tacos. Sadly, the locals had no appreciation for good food and the place closed.  

Last week I mentioned that I'm of the mind that there's a six degrees of separation from anyone in Texarkana and Fouke. Incidentally, my hair stylist, Deb, the Queen of the Coronas, Corona Leah and Val my sewing friend are all from Fouke and--I'm not making this up--they are all related somehow.  

Anyway, here's a quick video about Fouke (less than a minute). I don't know this dude, but I'd bet money I know someone who does.  https://www.youtube.com/shorts/hPgqzEfBoHA

*All the liquor stores in Western Arkansas have wildly crazy prices because they can. One cannot buy anything other than Budweiser/Coors/Miller beers or wines in Bowie county. Want to make a margarita, you gotta buy your tequila somewhere. 

 

The Clawsfather

He smiles when he sleeps.

Roosevelt is the more chill of the two Overlords. He was the cuddler until he hit teenagehood. And now Roosevelt perfectly content to have someone pet him as they stand nearby, worshiping him. In return, he'll purr like he's running a two-stoke engine.

The kitten is also extremely patient with his brother. Every couple of hours, Leon will jump on Roosevelt and start biting him. Roosevelt, when tired of Leon's antics will give him a thwack, generally stopping the fight by using less energy and a lot more power.

For as calm as Roosevelt is, he's also the most adventurous of the duo. He looks at the outside with such wanderlust that I half-suspect there's an owl/fox/snake/hawk looking at him through the backyard storm door, licking it's lips, just waiting for him to escape. He likes to be up high and has managed to climb the walls like a parkour athlete. But, his favorite place to climb is onto my thigh while I'm typing, always surprising me and always--ALWAYS--using his claws. 

Did I Mention He Shredded an Entire Roll of Toilet Paper Last Night?*

I've just renamed one of the Overlords. His new name: Leondontbeamoron Stopthat! 

He's still cute. And he's still the mama's boy between the two and has me wrapped around his little tail. 

Thugs

*I know it was him because he brought me the only remaining inch left of his kill and proof of his affection for me. 

Vintage 1955

My gift to Gail

While in Arizona, I texted Deb, the Queen of the Coronas and asked if anything was happening for Corona Gail's 70th birthday. Her Majesty replied with, "not yet." And then another thread started with all but one Corona on it. And Viola! A surprise party was planned. 

Yesterday the majority of the Coronas met Gail at the lobby of the local Walk Ons restaurant, with walker, tiara and sash. After making her walk the length of the restaurant with the walker we sat in our highly decorated room and said all sorts of loving things like, "35 was half your life ago." and "Do you remember us?" and "How many of your original teeth do you still have?" and (to the server) "Can we get our friend a bib?" 

There was a lot of laughing and a great amount of ribbing for poor Gail, who took the entire thing in stride. The gifts were somewhat 70 years old centric and Gail promised us she'd be showing them off to her sister--who happens to be four years older and tells her life begins at 70. To be honest, Gail, Deb and Tessa make 70 look youthful. 

As we were parting, Gail said a lot of sentimental things including, "I've never had a group of girlfriends like you ladies." I'm pretty sure none of us have. 

Independence Day

During my morning walk yesterday, someone said to me, "Happy Fourth of July." I automatically responded with "Happy Independence Day" because THAT IS WHAT IT IS! And then I felt like a jerk. I wasn't correcting the woman, I was just giving my knee-jerk reply--but it might have sounded a bit pious. Oops. 

Independence Day is a big deal in these parts. I passed on the Corona Fireworks Party(TM) last night because I was obligated somewhere else. And if I skipped both events, there were about 7 others I could have found without much effort. Most folks decorated their interior and exterior of their homes. We just did the exterior and it was low key compared to the other homes in Wake Village. 

And let me just say, The Texarkana Chorale's concert was outstanding, and not just because the Soprano 1s are always amazing. This concert just rocked! As part of the concert, the Chorale sang every military flight song, and the Veterans of each branch stood so they could be acknowledged. Of note, the Vietnam-era Marines (which comprised most of the Vets in the room) stood at attention and sang along to the Marine's Hymn. By the way, did you know "Taps" (which is really called Blades of Grass and Pure White Stones) has lyrics? Now you do and now I do. 

Taps will always bring me to tears. Attend a military funeral and see if you aren't moved every time you hear it from then on. I dare you. 

Polly is in there somewhere--I think she's behind the conductor's arm. 

My Money is on Creepy Weirdo

7.13 Miles as the Crow Flies. 

Tuesday night, I morphed from City Girl to Small-Town Girl in about 15 seconds. While looking for Marty in the Texarkana Airport parking lot (about 20 spaces and I was just blind), a man walked up to me and asked if I knew if there was Uber in Texarkana. 

"Yes. Where are you going?" I asked because folks in this part of the world don't mind their business and well, when in Rome the South...

"The Hilton Garden." The guy replied. 

Without thinking, the following tumbled out of my mouth: "We are heading that way, can we give you a lift?" At the time I had no idea where the Hilton Garden was (I know now), but I knew there's less than eight miles between the airport on the East side of Texarkana and Wake Village on the West side of Texarkana, so how far out of the way could the Hilton Garden be?  

The surprised man declined my offer but we continued chatting for a moment longer.  

When Marty found me, I introduced the two and said good-bye to my new friend. Marty promptly offered him a ride--which the guy also declined. 

Hopefully the man just considered us the Southern Hospitality Welcome Wagon and not creepy weirdos. 

 

There and Back

Somewhere in Pinal County

I'm home from a whirlwind trip--if one can call a week "whirlwind." Girl's weekend in the foothills of Tucson was almost perfect--in case anyone wanted to know what the noise was Saturday morning, it was a scream when I found a nope-on-a-rope hanging out on the sidewalk. Seeing my brother and his family made me smile for days on end. I saw a friend I wanted to see. And, I saw Bonus Dad, who walked without assistance the length of his assisted living apartment. He is still as wonderful as ever. 

For the record, I hate flying through DFW. Speaking of records, I think I now hold the record of making it from Terminal A to terminal B in and to my gate in 12 minutes--of which 7 of those minutes I was on the tram. Thank you again, American Airlines for changing my flight without permission and giving me so little time to catch my connection, but more importantly, being so committed to my fitness.

One more tiny thing: happy belated birthday Freedom. I'll call you next week. 

 

 

Small Town Living

Found on the Texarkana FB's site. The man had been pulled over for speeding*. He explained to the officer he was having a "bad day" and was on his way to a funeral. He then commented he couldn't even get his tie tied. 

So, this happened. 

*The article didn't state if the guy still got a speeding ticket. I will tell you, around here, on any given Sunday morning, if a police officer pulls someone over and the motorist says they are late for church, there's a good chance the driver will get off with warning. 

Didn't I Hear It Was 117 Degrees There?

I'm Arizona bound tomorrow--provided my flight takes off at 6 a.m. Otherwise, I'm making a mad-dash to Dallas to catch my 8:30 a.m. flight to Phoenix because, American Airlines changed my flight and "helped" me by giving me an earlier flight. I originally had a 10 a.m. flight which would have been a great continency if the Texarkana flight is nixed. Crossing my fingers and toes this flight isn't cancelled. 

And don't even get me started about how American Airlines "helped" me by changing my flight home by giving me 30 minutes to go from terminal A to terminal B at DFW to catch the last flight of the day back to Texarkana. 

This trip has been nine months in the making. Bliz, Pammy and Bucky and I are staying at an AirBNB in Tucson where we hang out by the pool and sip adult beverages for three days. We are doing this in Arizona because Bliz was already using her vacation to Dad-sit while her mother is gone for a spell, so she was already in the state. Next time I'm holding out for Maine, Greenland or the Southern Hemisphere--anywhere cooler than Arizona. 

Random Texarkana

A lovely and large hospital in Texarkana where
Buckaroo works on Tuesdays.
 

The kids and I are on Blue Cross Blue Shield of Texas for health insurance. As of July 1, the hospital (and its affiliate services and doctors) in Texarkana--which happens to be the only hospital in a 70 mile radius--no longer takes Blue Cross Blue Shield of Texas. 

I'll wait here while you read that again, scratch your head and process what I wrote. Take your time. 

Here's the funner parts of the above paragraph: health insurance companies won't let folks change policies outside of "open enrollment"--which happens to be around November. Therefore, we are stuck with Blue Cross Blue Shield of Texas for our health insurance. 

We can also change insurance next April and be added on to Marty's garbage perfectlywonderfulandhowcouldIhavethoughtanythingotherwise? health insurance when his company has their own open enrollment. 

And the funnest part: the only insurance the local hospital (and its affiliate services and doctors) will take--other than Marty's health insurance happens to be their own in-house insurance (available in November!). Guess what? The price of their own in-house insurance just went through the roof. 

___________________

Luna is home from the hospital. Marty, Polly and Buck all got happy greetings. The Overlords crept in and stared to see if they were welcome. When Luna didn't growl, Roosevelt gave her a nose-boop-hello. Leon (our resident thug) carried away one of Luna's prized toys and didn't look back. 

Luna still isn't speaking to me for abandoning her. Her health is sorta better, but it is relative. Last Sunday night I wasn't holding out much hope. I'm more hopeful right now but right now Luna will eat a few ounces for Polly, and only Polly. 

___________________

This past week--and I swear I'm not making this up--I went hunting for the airport. Why? Because the City of Texarkana (Arkansas) moved it. I'm glad I went searching, because next week my flight leaves at 6 a.m. and given one now has to drive two miles down some winding country road, I might have missed it.  I hear TSA at the Texarkana airport is still ultra-militant and it doesn't matter if I have a Known Traveler Number. TSA Texarkana Arkansas doesn't honor it. Plus, everyone checks their carry-on for the first leg of this flight. I'm curious to find out if the new airport has a  jetway or if the airport is still using the metal staircase in homage to 1954.  

Oh yeah... next week I'm heading to Arizona.   

Luna Update

Too sick to lift her head.

Luna is in the vet hospital, under sedation and being pumped full of antibiotics. She's going to be there until probably Wednesday, when she will walk out with a full and miraculous recovery. Right? 

Right??? 

I think Marty is more worried about me than her. The Overlords are looking around everywhere for her. They are so unnerved by the change in scenery, that they aren't even willing to steal her toys right now. 

Doc. P. said I can call "any time" but I doubt he means it. He also said I could stop by if I needed to, but cautioned it would be harder on Luna if I did--especially if she wasn't ready to go home. 

When I checked yesterday afternoon, she still hadn't eaten anything. Doc is supposed to "reevaluate" her this morning and will give me an update when I call at exactly 8 a.m. for an update. 

Back and Forth

I'm home from my first June vacation--a bittersweet time with Marty and extended family. Yesterday, Marty and I drove through multiple thunderstorms in six states during our eight hour travel, coming home to what Buck and Polly swore was a "clean house." It probably was and I just missed it. We also came home to kittens who have doubled in size but have some unfortunate (but curable) issue that now needs to be addressed by the vet. And, we came home to an ailing Luna, who is only worse for wear. Polly had taken her to the vet last week where she found out Luna had lost 5 pounds in two weeks.

Our travels took us to the East coast of Florida, where we hung out for a few days. We then went to our old stomping grounds, the West side of Florida where we visited Marty's Uncle Sunshine, who though near 80, is still one of the most positive and dynamic people I've ever met. And as much as I loved seeing my brothers, I doubly loved visiting with Uncle Sunshine. 

One of the great (or icky--you decide) aspects about driving is the amount of conversation possible. I'm not gonna lie, I had a few talking points chambered for Marty and I managed to get most of them from we left Texas and finish before we made it to Alabama. Marty and I have a few changes we are implementing. It's long-term plan and requires a lot of moving parts, but the outcome is promising and I recognize necessary and best for the Sunshine family. Sadly, part of that plan means I might giving up a few things, but I'll be okay. More on that when there's more to share. 

It turns out I'm at that age where I take pictures of birds when I'm on vacation. I'll spare you and only post two. 

For the record, that is not an owl.
That's an Anhinga. 

A pelican hanging out on Matlacha Island

My little brothers at a nature preserve
somewhere in Palm Beach County Florida. 

The view from the Airbnb on Matlacha Island

Buckaroo Update

Buckaroo, 14 years ago

Buckaroo* had an interview at the hospital today. For this volunteer position, he bought a brand new button-down shirt, and helped himself to one of Marty's ties and dress shoes. Starting next Tuesday, he'll be working in the ER two days a week helping with patient intake. He's doing this in preparation for his EMT program which starts in the fall. He'll be going to the University of Arkansas (Hope campus--30 miles from home).  

This is on top of is "real" job at Lowes--which he more or less hates but it pays well. At Lowe's he works in the garden department. It is typical that I will get a call at least twice a week while he's working asking something about plants. "Mom, I have a customer here who wants to know about potting soil." or "What's the best fertilizer you recommend for tomatoes?" Lowes would like Buck to work full time. Buck's bound and determined to pass EMT school so he can get away from Lowes. 

He's got such a great reputation in town for being industrious, that past week, Bob who owns the local quilt shop needed help setting up shelves and asked Buck to come over and take care of it. Sometimes Tessa the Realtor has odd jobs for him, like would he sit open a building going up for auction in a questionable part of town for a few hours? Or is Buck willing to clean out some big debris at a vacant home and take it all over to the dump? 

In addition to his working, he's raising the two kittens in our home. One of the kittens, Leon, came to us a bit feral. Buck is doing his level best to civilize this guy. Given Leon is currently curled up sleeping on my shoulder as I'm typing this, AND purring--that's a new activity for this cat--I think Buck is doing a pretty good job. 

Actually, I think Buck is doing a pretty good job at life in general. 

*Okay, I'm not supposed to talk about my young adults on this blog, but whatever. They don't read it and probably won't until I'm dead--and probably not even then. 
 

Welcome to Texas

It isn't the first time I've heard a similar story lately. The other one was in Texarkana, and the woman was sitting in her recliner, reaching out to folks on FB because she was too terrified to move and wanted someone to come over right then and there and remove the critter. A stranger came to her rescue.  

In the interest of full disclosure, I'm a bit creeped out by this story. So, as I was posting this, I felt faint movement at my feet. I might have screamed and jumped back. The kitten in question wasn't phased and has gone back to batting at my toes. I'm certain if the occasion arose, these two beasts will vigilantly guard our couches. 

Adulting Reprieve

My father-in-law was sent home with directions to see his primary care physician--advice he may or may not follow. But for now he's hanging on and plans on doing life his way. 

Marty and I are back on track for vacay later this week. I even went so far as to book a hotel for our first stay. I haven't packed yet... Perhaps that will come after my Adulting Reprieve is over. 

I've been up since 2 a.m. sitting with Luna, who just wants pets and rest. The kittens Overlords see it differently and have been doing their best to cheer her up all night. They even gave back one of their hostages Luna's toys. 

Don't let the lack of movement fool you.
 Thugs and the Clawsfather are in a short regroup before their next adventure.  

Adulting

 We've been having a few hiccups around the o'le Sunshine place. 

Luna is ill and I'm afraid her best days are behind her. Doc P gave her some meds, but she can't keep them down. Right now we are on a watch and see regimen. She sleeps most of the time. She drinks a little milk and hangs with me. About 237 times a day, the kittens bounce in, bring her greetings and joy and drag out whatever Luna toys they can carry when they leave. Most of Luna's toys are bigger than them. 

My father-in-law was rushed to the ER this morning. He's 89. I don't have further news. Marty and I are slated to go on vacation to another part of the country later this week, but instead, we might be going back to Arizona. 

Polly asked me this morning what to do if Luna takes a turn for the worse while we are (hopefully) on vacation. She already knew the answer, but was looking for a way out of that kind of hard decision.   

Blackberries and Old Friends

This past Saturday, I drove 56 miles of back country roads to Daingerfield Texas. Daingerfield consists of a Dollar General, an EZ Mart gas station and Greer Farm, the u-pick blackberry and blueberry farm. As a public service, y'all need to know: if one follows GPS , they aren't going to end up at Greer Farm.

Trust me on this one. This is where the GPS took me. 

Not Greer Farm

With a bit of perseverance and more help from a passing motorist ("Go on about two more miles past the railroad tracks, turn right at the second pond then take a left after a spell."), I made my way to the blueberry and blackberry patch. Apparently, there's a main entrance somewhere, because half of East Texas also happened to show up Saturday morning and they weren't on that same country road GPS insisted I take. Below is probably a quarter of the blueberry and blackberry bushes. Somehow I managed to get pictures without the swarming crowds. Not sure how that happened...

Greer Farm

More Greer Farm

Full disclosure: I sampled a lot of blackberries. 

After an hour of blackberry picking (and eating), I paid for my haul and opted to forgo the blueberry bushes. The blueberries weren't completely ripe and I had places to go. 

From Greer Farm (and yes, I backtracked to that back road once again) I made my way another 20 miles to Mount Pleasant, Texas where I met Melissa and Barrett for lunch. I've known Melissa for 25 years. We were friends in Mesa. Barrett is her 10-month old grandson (she has 6 grands). About fifteen years ago, they moved to Sulphur Springs Texas (near Dallas). Mount Pleasant is closer to her than me, but probably the best option for the two of us. 

After a lunch of laughing and bad Mexican food, I shared my berries with Melissa, squeezed Barrett and promised to do this again before December. Kenny Rogers said it best: you can't make old friends. I needed an old friend Saturday and didn't know it. 

By the way, I had two pounds of blackberries. They all went into a blackberry cobbler for yesterday's church get-together. It was my first blackberry cobbler and strangely enough, I couldn't find a recipe. So, I modified a blueberry cobbler recipe I'd made before. My audience gave it rave reviews, however, I prefer blueberries. They are easier to find (like the grocery store) and they don't take two pounds of berries to make the recipe work. 

There's enough cobbler left for Polly, who asked me to save her a bit. However, she'd better act fast because three others might get to it first and I'm not going back to Greer Farm any time soon. 

I'll Stay Home and Read a Book

Last summer Polly and I stumbled upon the Longview Arboretum. It happened to be closed that day, but the Powers That Be let us in* and invited us to wander around those beautiful gardens at our leisure. Two hours later, a very hangry Polly drug me out out of that green wonderland with threats to pick the ickiest nursing home she could find when the time came if I didn't leave right then. I've always wanted to go back.

This coming Thursday, the Master Gardeners are planning a field trip to the Longview Arboretum (90ish miles). 

And though I'm usually up for an adventure, I'm digging in my heels. You see, someone in the Master Gardener group decided to throw a side trip first. After all, if we are already going to Longview, why not stop by Mount Pleasant and see someone's garden there too? And that would make sense if Mount Pleasant was anywhere along the route to Longview. But, in this case, it is driving 70 miles out of our way to then drive another100 miles. ** 

Or, to put it in Arizona terms: if you are heading from Mesa to Tucson, take a side trip to Gila Bend first for a half-hour to chat with some stranger. Sure, it is technically on the way, but why???  

What I'm finding the most bizarre about this is that I'm the only one who finds this the least bit crazy.

And did I mention we are supposed to have thunderstorms on Thursday?

I'm throwing the maps out on here anyway. I'm not sure it really supports how crazy the thinking is behind the planning of this trip.   

Wake Village to Longview. All forest roads.  

 

Wake Village to Mount Pleasant and then to Longview.
Don't let I-30 fool you. It's 1 lane, and under
construction for the next 15 months.

*Pro Hack: when traveling around Texas, if you say, "I just came from..." and mention a place more than an hour away, the locals will move heaven and earth to accommodate whatever they can for the traveler. That includes opening up the Longview Arboretum for Wake Village residents on a day when the place is closed. 

**In the name of full disclosure I'm willingly heading to Mount Pleasant on Saturday. More on that later. I doubt I'll be seeing a garden. 

Plants

My pal Joy and I decided not to go for tea or lunch today. Instead, we walked around the plant nursery as our social event. She said she would only buy what she could carry. 

Joy's never been a mother.

I carried my lilies and her peppers and her hibiscus and a few other pots while she speed dated several other flowers she couldn't live without. 

The reason I was prudent today is I found a porch swing I think I absolutely have to have. Perhaps Marty and I will go back over this weekend and pick it up. 

Okay, I did buy this. Look at that color! 

Now then, I've been admiring this vine that's been growing from the wood's side of my backyard fence. So pretty. And it is spreading all over the back fence. Lush. Deep green. Three leaves. Never saw a plant with a red stem before! (Quickly takes picture and puts it into the plant app) Well then. Never mind. 

A small potion of the poison ivy growing along my
back fence. There's enough oil to contaminate East Texas. 

Lessons in Gratitude

Last week I got a text from Corona Gail. "Let's have lunch today. Meet Deb and me?" You see, Lunch Bunch was cancelled that day. However, Corona Gail and Deb, the Queen of the Coronas were hungry. They thought to include me. Just me. Not 25 other people we all know. 

Just me. That isn't a humble brag. It is a floored realization someone thought enough to invite me to lunch. 

I process this often. Each time I'm overwhelmed in an abundance of gratitude. 

After living in the same place for 50+ years and then starting over, I never take for granted these kinds of invitations. The invite from Krissy for a Girl's Trip to Branson and another from Deb to tag along to Little Rock for the day. The plants dropped off on my doorstep from Master Gardener pals. A local writer sending me a sample from his book and asking for my opinion. Calls, texts and follow-ups from those who heard I'd been battling some sort of weird fatigue/infection (I'm better now). Even a simple last-minute invite for tea makes my heart swell.

But it isn't just the folks I met here. This entire experience intensifies how much I cherish the friends I left back in Arizona. I don't think a day goes by where I don't have flash memories of homeschool park days, meeting up for tea or lunch, hiking, chatting with a Bonus kid's mom, great real estate clients, and other moments with the ones who helped shaped me and loved me first. Moving here has given me a deeper appreciation for those I left behind. 

Here's the ugly truth: Though Texarkana was 100 percent Marty's idea--he was raving about this place as early as 2014--he doesn't like it here. I doubt, long-term, we are staying. This isn't the same kind of wanderlust we had when we were in Arizona and wanted out. I'm resigned to this fact and I won't talk him out of it. It's okay. There are legitimate reasons to leave--though it will break my heart to do so. 

A future move isn't happening today, tomorrow or next year, but I know it is on the docket when he retires. What I've discovered with this bit of knowledge I don't share beyond my family and this blog, is that invitations like Gail's last week are so much sweeter, knowing there may come a time when I'm going to have to start over again and navigate through new relationships again. I don't take these invitations for granted and I'm beyond grateful to be included. 

Wait for It...

A bit of humor for y'all. 

I've been under the weather this week. I missed Friday's Corona Night. When I texted Her Majesty the Queen of Everything Texarkana (Deb), telling her I wouldn't be there, she told me she'd been under the weather too and considered cancelling the entire festivities. 

Additionally, last Thursday, the two of us, had lunch with Corona Gail, who is now also a bit peaky. Corona Shelly and Corona Leah are also a little sick. I saw Corona Leah on Wednesday. Gail saw Shelly earlier in the week.

I pointed out to Deb we are spreading a new (ahem) Corona Virus. 

My Mother's Day Gift

I had to bring over a desk, but no biggie.
It worked out well. 

Not gonna lie, there are years where Marty and the kids have completely forgotten me for birthday and Christmas. To his credit, my dear husband has always made a point to remember Mother's Day. This year, he gave me the whopper of all Mother's Day/Christmas/Birthday gifts evah!!! 

You see, for weeks I was trying to finish my manuscript. Every time I'd catch the creative flow, interruptions happened. Though my loving family means well, my patience was on the edge when a few Saturdays ago, a family member came in for the seventh time, just to ask me if I'd seen the blue sock, or did I know we were out of milk, or what time was something going on downtown next week. At that point, Marty suggested if I truly wanted to finish the story, why not just run away from home. So I did. I moved three miles from our house to an AirBnB. 

What do you know?! For the first time in months, I didn't have Luna alerting me that her best pal, the Amazon driver, is on Arizona Avenue. Wait! The driver didn't stop. Why??!!!! Wait! Do you hear that? The driver is back. Wait! They drove by again without saying hello! The closed bedroom door only accelerated the challenge. Luna wants out. Luna wants in. Luna wants out. Wait! There's a squirrel! DID YOU SEE THE SQUIRREL!!??? To be fair, if the young adults are home, they often take her (after flopping on the bed and chatting with me for several minutes--unaware I'm typing and just nodding).  

Additionally, I didn't have the innocent comments such as "Hey Mom, because you aren't doing anything would you..." or "I don't want to disturb you but..." 

Or, "Hey Mom, Dad tried calling you a million times but your phone is off. So, he called me. He needs you to call him asap." (Me calling Marty only to find he figured out the password to our internet provider's web site on his own--because he originally set it up). Or... I can keep my phone on and have 387 text messages from well-meaning folk who feel the need to "like" every post on the text thread about what to bring to Deb's prayer group meeting three weeks from now. (Bonny: "I'll bring lettuce." Six others: adding a thumb's up or heart emoji to Bonny's text).

In the three days I was gone, I typed more than 20,000 words. I like this story much better than my last one. I like these characters better. This one is a mystery--which means the story telling is layered differently than a simple boy-meets-girl romance. My ending did not turn out the way I expected it to, but I like it better too. 

My manuscript is finished. It is now brewing on my computer drive, waiting for me to start the edits--in a few weeks, thank you very much. In the meantime, I'm building a quilt and playing with plants. 

Random Texarkana

 I've been under the weather this week. It didn't really slow me down until yesterday afternoon. 

Today I talked to a friend who innocently asked how the garden was doing. The tomatoes are great--I only have 90 zillion tomato plants. The spinach and lettuce are also thriving. My pepper plants are growing. The cucumbers are flowering. And I discovered something is eating my radishes and strawberries--which are at different parts of the yard. 

Unfortunately, the okra is also growing. Lucky Marty. 

Later, Luna sat in front of the storm door, crying to go outside. I saw what she was alerting to: a brindle-color cottontail. As much as I would love to have let her out to chase the bunny and bring honor to my strawberries, I didn't want to finagle a mangled rabbit out of her jaws. So, the bunny left on its own and Luna pouted. 

The veg garden surrounds the green house.
Most everything is in early stages. 

Bottom right is 8 more tomato plants, top right is okra, top left is strawberries.
The bottom left was supposed to be nothing. I was going to empty that plot and start over. However potatoes which did not grow last year are now cropping up. So, I guess it's a potato patch.  

_________________________

My bathroom has a garden tub. Between Polly and myself, I think we've used it three times. I have too much sewing stuff. Last March, while in Arizona, I borrowed my brother's jig saw with the intention of making this storage space. This past weekend, I made this. Fortunately, we are all meeting up in Florida next month. I'll give the saw back to him then. 

There's about 687 pounds of fabric and notions in plastic
Dollar General bins under that wood.
Eventually, there will be plants atop of that wood.


_________________________

 

And finally, brace yourself for kitten cuteness.

For the record, this is Buckaroo's desk. They were napping while he was at work. 

I moved them from the desk. Roosevelt's neck is fine.
His brother (Leon) doesn't weigh enough to pin him down. 

New Additions

Buckaroo zipped over to the tire shop today for a rotation. About an hour later, I got a phone call, "I'm at Petsmart, can you come over? I found a cute little kitten and I want your opinion if it is healthy enough to adopt." 

Well now, what's better than one kitten? A brother to keep him company. We have two new additions to our family. Luna is a bit disappointed they don't want to play with her, but I suspect that will probably change--most likely at three a.m. when the rest of us when want to sleep. 

Buck is the new papa of Leon and Roosevelt. 

Leon

Roosevelt

 

Luna also got a "big sister" toy today--a new cow baby doll--that she
is lovingly and proudly carrying around. 

 

Beds for Kids

This past week, I got together with several ladies to build beds. The ministry, Beds for Kids, is run by a pretty awesome couple. Their mission is to bring beds and bedding to local foster care kids. For my Lunch Bunch birthday this year, I asked for donations to this group instead of presents. I'm told five children got new bedding, complete with comforters, with the money given from these ladies. 

Anyway, we spent a few hours in a warehouse drilling, sanding and nailing. We made 10 beds. Here's two of the results. 

    

Today's Victory

I found an editor! 

Now to pop some Tylenol arthritis, slip on compression gloves, and get into the writing zone. 

 

Check out the New Century

I just reordered checks. Why? Because the 21st century hasn't caught up to some places around here. 

The City of Wake Village needs a check for the water bill. My bill arrives sometime between the first and the seventh of the month. The water bill is due by the tenth--no excuses. The City of Wake Village refuses to allow for payment via their web site. If I have a check sent from the bank, it will arrive late and then there's a $50 fee they add to my $50 water bill--okay, the bill is only $50 in the winter. Still! It's a nice little racket the city has going.   

My lawn guy only takes checks or a cash app (I don't "cashap"). He does not want a check sent from my bank either. He wants payment the day of service. 

Bowie County will take a check for the property taxes. Or, I can pay a $50 service fee to have them take the money from my debit card. 

By the way, I'm paying property taxes today. I have two checks left. One for Bowie County and one for the City of Wake Village. 

 

The Shreveport Rose Garden

Recently, my Master Gardener pals Maria and Joy (The same Joy who was the first person I got to know three years ago--she's now a Master Gardener), took a trip to Shreveport to check out their rose garden. Warning! Get three plant nerds together and prepare to have your eyes glaze over.  

The place was wonderful and displayed several kinds of roses. We meandered the trails oohing and ahhing, snapping pictures, identifying different roses on our plant apps, while inhaling the fragrance. Every once in a while one of us would point out something like the color or petal variation while the other two stood around fascinated. Now then, I'm not saying that while standing next to the Ragosa rose, someone knelt down, dug her hands into the Earth and pulled out a teensy runner from the root and ordered me to open my purse so she could take it home. But it could have happened. 

The Shreveport rose garden--it has an official name, I'm sure--also has an herb garden run by the Arklatex Herb Society. It just so happens the President of the Arklatex Herb Society happened to be there weeding and planting in their patch of goodness. So the three of us snacked on various kinds of mint, cilantro, sage, dill, oregano, more mint, and basil while chatting with the nice lady about herbs. Plant nerds do such things. Now then, I'm not saying there was a stack of cilantro pulled out by the roots ready to be composted, but if there was, it is quite likely we grabbed several, rushed into the restroom, covered the roots in wet paper towels and took those plants home with us. 

Afterwards, the three of us vainly attempted to find an authentic Mexican restaurant. In Shreveport, Louisiana. Yes. Really.  

Given Maria is from Mexico and Joy and I are from Phoenix, we settled for Louisiana's gallant attempt at South of the Mason-Dixon line flavors instead. I had something with chicken smothered in Velveeta--which is not what the menu described, but whatever. I knew better than to order anything other than water. 

I took about 987 pictures. Here's four of them. 

This is a Cosmo Cloud, the most fragrant of the fragrant roses I've ever smelled. 
Oh my!

I'm going to find an Evergreen rose bush, and then locate
somewhere in my garden to put one. 

I'd like to point out, this rose bush has three different color roses. On the same bush! Squee! We were freakishly giddy over this discovery (as well as every other rose garden discovery).

Joy, smelling a rose. 

Birthday Month

The portulaca Corona Gillian gave me. 

Lots of wonderful folks in these parts helped me remember I had a birthday this month. 

A few weeks ago, Corona Gillian accidentally spilled that Deb, the Queen of the Coronas, was throwing a surprise party for me. Bless them both and thank you Gillian for the fair warning. The Coronas are such a wonderful group of women. They are all so thoughtful, loving and kind. Most of the time I wonder why they put up with me, while also wondering when they are going to figure out what a fraud I truly am. I'm ashamed to admit my gifts are still stacked beside my desk, awaiting thank you notes. I'm promising myself they WILL be written today!!!! 

In addition to my surprise party, the coordinator of the Thursday Lunch Bunch insists on celebrating everyone's birthday. And because she's a Corona, she knew I'd recently made it another year around the sun. Honestly, I didn't want the fuss--plus I was hip-deep in typing.. Therefore stopping, getting dressed, leaving the house and eating tends to be an inconvenience. But Corona Jenny insisted I pick a restaurant and tell her my favorite flavor of cupcake. I picked a pizza joint and I don't care for cake much, so any flavor worked because I wasn't eating it anyway. 

One of my stipulations for my Lunch Bunch birthday was no gifts. But I know this crew: that wasn't going to be an option. So, I asked for donations for a foster care charity run by the Church of Christ. That idea turned out to be a winner! I raised $180. A couple of days ago I got a nice note from the man who runs the charity, thanking me and telling me how the money was used. Squee! Win-win. I suspect more Lunch Bunch folks are going to do this in the future. 

There were other celebrations as well. My family loved all over me  and gave me a few more absolutely necessary garden whirly-gigs. Polly made a delicious blueberry coffee cake (not the same as the Lunch Bunch Wal-Mart cupcakes). Friends and brothers called from other parts of the country. And I am officially birthdayed out for another year. 

Book Update

A writer's friend: compression gloves. 
I own several pairs. 

Other than playing with plants--I do that a lot--I've spent quite a bit of time writing staring at my computer screen. Not fair. About two chapters a week flow out of my fingers when my hand isn't too swollen. 

After careful discernment, I've opted to go a different direction with the editor I originally hired. My gut screamed she wasn't the right fit for this story. Two weeks ago, I wrote her asking if she'd be willing to take on a different role in this project. I outlined exactly what I'd like. Incidentally, it would have been less work and the same money. However, I haven't heard back. That alone tells me I made the right choice.

It's really too bad, because I think she was the right fit for my young adult novel (already completed) and another story I'm working on that is more secular. When I met with her earlier this month, I suspected the idea of my main character offended her. He's a priest. That's his value system (just like if my main character were a vampire, he'd do vampiry things based on his value system). This book won't have the same religious undertones as the last one, but my main character is still a priest. 

By the way, I recently discovered Tylenol Arthritis. Pop two of those bad boys, rub CBD ointment all over my hands and I'm good to go for about 2,000 words. I'm got about six chapters left to write before I need to start figuring out the editing process. So, here's hoping a solution falls in my lap. 

Writer's Blockage

It is 3:23 a.m. Luna has taken my spot on the bed. Again. That's okay. I was awake. I'm probably not going to sleep well-ish until I'm done with my latest project. 

My current goal is to finish my manuscript by next Wednesday. Head out of town, read and review it when I get back, and give it to my editor by our prescribed deadline. However, as it was once pointed out to me, no battleplan outlives the enemy. 

In addition to a needy dog, I have other humans in my home who like me enough to demand my time. My mom has some significant drama which requires a bit of attention and sympathy. I have a garden to finish up--and let me just say this, SQUEE! It's looking better. Also, I have an out of town trip tomorrow, something I planned a month ago. I'm leading it. So, yeah... I guess it's happening. And, its Birthday Month(TM), and people are insisting I act the part. 

However, biggest challenge happens to be I'm not great company even for myself. I'm writing about a dark and vile subject. And if I can be so bold, something which hit too close to home recently. (I was writing about it before I found out it hit our home.) Every ugly chapter where I have to write more about the villains spirals me further into an emotional abyss. Yesterday I wanted to take a Lysol shower. 

All for art, right? 

This Month's Electric Bill

 Behold!