The Great Tree Giveaway

As part of the Master Gardener Trainee program, I am required to serve in the community 50 hours. In the past 10 days, I've blown off two events. So, I made a point to wake up extra-early Saturday morning, scrape the ice off my car in the 28 degree weather and drive the 18 miles out to New Boston, Texas for the Bowie County Great Tree Giveaway. Apparently this is a thing around here. It had been advertised far and wide. 

When I arrived at 8:30, there were fifteen volunteers and cars lined up a half-mile, impatiently waiting for the 9 a.m. start time. Plus--I'm not making this up--this many bags of trees to give away. 

We gave out 4 different kinds of trees: oak, cypress, chinkapin and something else. 

In addition to the 15 volunteers, there were three folks who were paid from the County to help out. And they pretty much took over, not letting the volunteers do much. Not that there was much to do anyway with so few bags of trees. But whatever. I'm so jaded at the moment with volunteering. However, the education has been fantastic. 

All the bags of trees had been handed out by 9:20 and I now have only 48 more hours to go before I can get my Master Gardener Designation. 

Incidentally, one of the volunteers remembered me from the "bless your heart" incident the week before. Though I wish she wouldn't have, the woman told the group how I stood up to that (her words) "bully." Apparently the bully is well-known in the Master Gardener group. 

The best part came at the end. One of the Church of Christ ladies, Cindy, lives out in New Boston. She arrived at the Great Tree Giveaway at 9:21 to say hello. Because our event was over, Cindy and I ran over to Sonic for a diet cherry limeade and a bit of fun conversation.  

I Said It In A Nice Way

I struggle with the concept that I would rather hang out with the ladies from the Church of Christ than the women from my Catholic Church. Honestly, if Marty wasn't willing to go to church with me (and I swear this is the only reason he goes), I'd be spending my Sundays at the local Church of Christ. 

It had been pointed out to me (by Marty) that perhaps I didn't really know many of the Catholic ladies very well and I should get to know them. So, I joined the Lady's Auxiliary Group. At 54, I'm the youngest in this gang of women who seemingly have all been friends since birth. This group exists for the purposes of, well, after several months, I'm still not sure. They conduct a fundraiser once a year for a local charity (the domestic woman's shelter seems to be the recent favorite) complete with door prizes, food and whatever else; clean the church every week; supply pickles and olives for the meals after funerals; and on the second Sunday of the month, they provide the coffee and donuts. And by the way, the Lady's Auxiliary pays for these supplies instead of asking the congregation to help cover the costs--something I did not know when I joined. And more to the point, when I suggested in January's meeting we should ask the congregation to help out with the costs and ask for help cleaning the church all of the women looked at me like I had six heads and had insulted their granddaughters. However, I stand by my comment. 

Don't get me wrong, I really like the LA women and I guess they like me. They are fun too, although everyone seems so serious. The meeting is a meal, a glass of wine and then a laundry list of what needs to be done to keep the Church running and help out Father J. There is no fellowship. In the past, my ideas have been repeatedly shot down because, "that's not how things are done." It reminds me of other committees I've sat on where the same has been said. The difference is I feel like I need this group for access in my small town, but, maybe I don't? 

That brings me to this week's LA meeting. I dreaded going. In another unbalanced week and on a Thursday that already held two other events in my day, the thought of sitting through another, "nobody bothers to help us at the Church" bitch and moan fest was wearing thin. It was even more difficult because hours earlier I was invited to a future event by one of the Church of Christ ladies. When I pointed out to her I don't go to her church, she laughed and said, "It doesn't matter. You are still our Sister."

This past Thursday at the Lady's Auxiliary the topic of, "we can't get anyone to help us," came up. It was about the third time that night they had rounded to this particular narrative. First was about their charity, then about cleaning the church and then about something else. And then I spoke up. 

*I explained that in the year I've been in Texarkana, my group of companions has become the Church of Christ ladies and the reason why is they have gone out of their way to make me feel welcome. It took until November until someone from my church actually took the time to invite me to an event--and that was only because I made an effort to ask if I could join the Lady's Auxiliary. And the event I was invited to was because they were looking to make money off of me, not because anyone wanted to get to know me or my family. I asked them how many other new parishioners have they missed because they have all known each other since they were three and inadvertently formed their clique. In a small town where Catholics are such a minority, why are we not reaching into our own community and seeking others to join us and be a part of what we do? Why is there no welcome committee? Why is there no meals for families in need? No community involvement? Isn't that what the purpose of the Lady's Auxiliary should be? 

And that stopped the wine flowing. 

It is fair to say, I got their attention. The rest of our chat was about what the Lady's Auxiliary could do to increase their impact in our church. Melanie made a note to talk to Father J. about starting a Hospitality Committee (even separate from our group). Adaline has opted to find a few folks who can take meals to homebound seniors--neither of which the Lady's Auxiliary ever thought to help with before. 

When pressed for some "fundraiser" I suggested why not a parish game night where we can all get together and play board games AND GET TO KNOW EACH OTHER. Everyone who comes can bring a dessert to share instead of us baking everything. If there needs to be a "fundraising" element, then fine, pass the hat that night. Don't laugh. This was a successful event at both of the parishes I went to in Mesa. There was one naysayer who gave a, "Well... who would come?" My reply was, "You won't know if you don't bother to try." However three other woman jumped on the idea and thought it had merit. There was even talk about getting the young adults involved to help with the younger kids at this particular event.  

I have no idea what's in store for me in this group. I left Thursday's meeting a lot happier than I arrived. But I must say, I'm more excited about this upcoming Sunday night's Church of Christ prayer meeting. 

  *I said it in a nice way. I swear! 

I'm Glad Business is Plentiful for This Guy

I've been talking to a carpenter for the past day via e-mail. He couldn't be bothered to call me. I didn't realize he was the same yahoo who sent me an unprofessional text message yesterday. If I'd figured that out, perhaps I'd had stopped speaking to him sooner. 

Anyway, the guy I've been chatting with isn't Registrar of Contractors licensed. So, I'm going to pass. I've been burned by non-ROC contractors before. When I explained because I wanted to add an addition to my home which would require changing my roof line, I only wanted to use an ROC contractor, he got ugly. As much as it pains me, I'm taking the high road and not replying to his message. 

Even if this guy had bothered to get a contractor's license, he still wouldn't get the job. My general rule is I don't invite trouble into my home. If he was going to be an ass in an e-mail, I can't imagine what I'd have to deal with for a month or two if I hired him to add an addition to my home. 

Incidentally, after I wrote this blog--even though I did not respond to him--the guy contacted me again. He said he has other businesses. And then he peppered my inbox with advertisements for these businesses. I don't if this was supposed to add credibility or if he expected me to pass along the word in case someone needed their carpets cleaned or new eye glasses. For me, I will just steer clear of the guy.  

Random Texarkana

 If you want to know what's going on in Texarkana, sadly Facebook is a must. Here's the latest. By the way, it's worth reading this first one all the way through. 

San Antonio Photo Dump

 Last weekend three of the four human Sunshines went to San Antonio. 

Buck's souvenir San Antonio t-shirt,
which actually came from the Buc-cees
truck stop in Temple Texas.
 

Before I go any further, let me give a shoutout to Buckaroo, who stayed home, walked Luna, fed the pets, washed and vacuumed my car, wrote his paper for school AND missed out on real Mexican food in the name of holding down the fort. His adulting was rewarded with a Costco pizza, brought back by us and a new Buc-cee's t-shirt. 

Last weekend, Polly's Collegiate All State convention was held in downtown San Antonio. She left on Wednesday with her classmates for several days of intense rehearsal before Saturday's amazing headline performance. They were the main act. The entire concert was fabulous. And that's not just the mom-bias speaking. 

Gonna let you in on a little secret: Polly's teacher composed one of the songs the group sung. That's not exactly true: Polly and her teacher composed one of the songs the group sung. 

Marty and I stayed in downtown San Antonio. We hung out on the River Walk (eating real Mexican Food), cruised the river and toured the Alamo. On Sunday, we swung by the Costco and the Trader Joes and filled up two ice chests and three freezer bags before heading back to Texarkana.  

Here are the rest of the photos. 

All State Collegiate Choir (Polly's in there)

All State Collegiate Choir Picture (full)

The Alamo Memorial 

A Statue of Jim Bowie 

It seems several of the counties in Texas are named after the men who fought at the Alamo. I live in Bowie County. Actually a great number of streets in Texarkana are named after the men who fought at the Alamo.  

Davey Crockett Statue

The View from our Hotel

Crazy Week, Redux

This is another imbalanced week. However, I have started saying, "no," to what doesn't suit me this week. That includes social events. I'm okay with that. I need some down time. Next week should look really good. 

Volunteering Turf War

When I signed up for the Master Gardener program, I had no idea it required volunteering in the community. I wasn't against such a thing, but perhaps I should have delved a bit deeper. 

Today is the "Bi-States Agri-Fair" put on by Master Gardener program of Bowie (TX) and Miller (AR) Counties. It is a big deal among the growing set. Some professor of plants from Texas A&M is the guest speaker. An attendee can learn about fertilizer use, pest management, seed development, cattle and a host of other exciting topics. There is a trade show, with free logoed pens, pads of papers and whatnot will be given out to all Fairgoers. If that isn't enticing enough, a free hamburger lunch (It's Texas/Arkansas folks, don't expect vegan) will be provided. 

And, that's where I come in. Last year there were 600 people who attended this day-long shindig. Last week there were begs and pleas for volunteers to come out and help cut up the tomatoes, onions and lettuce for lunch. And please! Bring your own knife. Being a foodie, that sounded easy enough. Even though it was pouring torrential rain, and the same forecast is expected for today I signed up to arrive at 11 a.m. with my sharpened knife and enthusiasm at my first experience volunteering with this group.

That changed at 10:45. I was 10 minutes away from the fairground, driving through a horrible rain storm when my phone rang. As I answered (on bluetooth), my all-wheel drive car opted to hydroplane on New Boston Road in several feet of water. The call was from my new "mentor," from the Master Gardener program, making sure I was going to arrive in 15 minutes. And I have to tell you, that set me off. I don't like being micromanaged (or running floating off the road). It took the rest of the drive for me to get my attitude in check, reminding myself: 1) I didn't have to answer the phone, 2) it was (allegedly) a friendly phone call and the timing was bad, and 3) perhaps my new mentor didn't realize she came across as demanding and scolding.  

When I arrived, my mentor was nowhere around. I sought her out to introduce myself in person. She didn't need anything, other than to make sure I was actually coming. Nor did she feel the need to socialize. Though we'd never met and she has no authority, she just wanted to make sure I was going to keep my word. So, I'm still not sure what that was about. 

About 15 of us showed up to help with lunch prep. We were there, milling around, specifically waiting to cut tomatoes, onions and lettuce. Coincidentally enough, the organizer of this event didn't need all of us and had neglected to mention this to the person coordinating the volunteers. They had enough onions already. They only had a handful of tomatoes and, like me, they felt that cutting lettuce was a bad idea. It should always be ripped. 

While everyone was looking for a role in this crazy, I grabbed my knife and a motioned to a few other folks I recognized from my class last week and we went to work cutting tomatoes. Meanwhile, some woman from Miller County, who has been a Master Gardener since 1924, was utterly unhappy with my knife cutting skills. Mind you, she wasn't in charge, wasn't even involved in the food prep and we had never met before today. She was just one of "those" types. 

This lady took the time to walk across the kitchen, grab MY wrist and tell me that I was cutting tomatoes wrong (nobody else, mind you). According to her, I needed to use one of the mandolins that were floating around. Nobody else was using a mandolin. But she didn't care about anyone else.

When she didn't get anywhere with the mandolin, she turned to how I was holding my knife (which was correct). Then I was squeezing the tomatoes too hard. And when neither of those got traction, she pointed out I was doing this and that wrong. One of the other women in the cutting tomato group mouthed to me, "Do you know her?" I shook my head. I know plenty of crazy old people. Now I know another one. 

When it came time to handle the lettuce, she once again came over, and began critiquing my lettuce ripping skills, even going to far as to take a piece I'd ripped off the core, put it back on my cutting board  and tell me it was "too big." I just smiled and threw the piece away. "Why'd you to that?" she demanded. "You aren't wearing gloves," I pointed out. "It can't be served." Then, I went back to work. 

The final time she came over to chastise me over something weird I kind of smiled and threw out the, "Bless your heart," I had chambered. I was standing in the State of Arkansas. I knew exactly what I was saying. The women who were working with me knew too and the kitchen went silent. But at least the drill sergeant left.*

I'm told that today is a great opportunity to volunteer. I can get lots of hours towards my Master Gardener certification. But, you know what? I'm gonna pass and go hang out with the Lunch Bunch.

*Marty pointed out this sounded uglier than it was. It went like this, (with a smile), "I'm new here and doing the best I can. Bless your heart. I guess I'm just not helping out the right way."  The message was received and I didn't have to wield my knife.