Tyler and Back

I won the door prize.

Last weekend I breezed over to Tyler, Texas for a writer's conference. Coincidentally, there happened to be a really large writer's conference that same weekend in Dallas. Usually, they aren't on the same weekend, and the Tyler conference would have a larger attendance.  

Well played, Dallas writer's conference. Well played.

Because I'd never gone to a writer's conference, I opted to start small. Plus, the one in Dallas was significantly more money and it was located in Dallas. Neither appealed to me.  

Door prize goodies.

What I discovered was there are quite a few nice folks in East Texas who have published multiple books. I met several of them. In fact, I was one of the few who didn't have a book published. That's okay. I have two written which are currently in various stages of editing. 

I had driven the farthest for this conference, at 118 miles, though many came from out of town.  

The speakers were great. I learned quite a bit about the book business and discovered I knew more about writing than I previously thought. I was even invited to join the East Texas Writer's Guild. That's all very nice and all, but I'm not driving 236 miles through back country roads once a month to attend the evening meetings. So, it was a hard pass. But I'd be willing to go to next year's conference. Especially if it isn't in Dallas. 

Found this in Tyler, too.

Sneak Peek

Before ironing. I promise that right top corner is the same size as the rest.
For the record, matching up those points is a bear. 

This is my latest quilting project. Up close, I'm not crazy about the color combo. But when it is all together, I like it much better. 

It will be Polly's Christmas present--though she is aware she's getting it. She picked the colors/designs. 

Protip: If you are making a quilt for someone on the autism spectrum, always let them pick the colors/designs. Always--even if it means you spend an hour and a half in a Little Rock quilting shop on video chat with your Asperger's offspring while a super-patient clerk shows you every fabric in the store. It will be worth it in the end. I promise.

When Buck saw the quilt, he asked, "Will I be getting one, too?"

Of course he is. But he is okay with me picking the fabrics, design, colors and pattern.  

It Froze Over Somewhere

Still Waiting from a Blessing from on High.

Yesterday I made an off-hand suggestion to a couple of members of the ladies auxiliary. And what do you know?! They both thought it was a fabulous idea. This tells me two things: 

1. I am not as stupid as I was starting to believe I was.

2. Once in a while these folks are open to hearing other people's opinions. 

The idea came while we were straightening up the church. The process takes an hour and really has less to do with cleaning and more to do with making sure the hymnals are in place in the pews, the altar server frocks are on hangers and not balled up in the corner of the closet and the prayer candles are replaced. That kind of thing. However, the way the women bitch about having to do this four times a year, you'd think they had to scrub the grout with their toothbrushes. 

There is a guy who is paid to actually clean the church. He does an iffy job, but nobody asked me. Personally, I'd just appreciate it if he'd vacuum the choir loft once in a while. It might cut down on the number of asthma attacks Polly has at church. 

Anyway, I suggested we raise a few bucks to purchase four robot vacuums. We'd put one in the choir loft, one in the vestibule and two in the main church. We could program them to work at 2 a.m. when the church was empty. And, if we wanted to be super-fancy, we'd get the kind that emptied out its own dust into a collection device. Mind you, that's the more expensive model, but what the heck! I didn't think any of them were listening to me anyway. 

What I didn't tell them was that my 10 year old nephew, Patrick, would be more than happy to send them 15,000 videos on the best models of robot vacuums to choose from so they can be savvy consumers. But I almost did. 

It turns out one of the women happens to be the treasurer of some important church committee and thought it was a great idea. She even said she was certain there were enough funds in some random account to purchase these right away (well, after the some important church committee and Father voted to do this). 

I happened to be standing right in front of the altar when I made this wild suggestion. So, let this be a lesson to all'y'all. Miracles can happen.

Ear Candy

Polly is currently practicing her singing. It sounds wonderful. She won't let me record her, so you will just have to take my word for it. 

This is not Mom-bias. She's our personal songbird. 

Kitty Hospice

Finn and Nicolai Pootenburg
back in Mesa 

Arizona Avenue has turned into a Kitty Hospice. Finn is still with us, though he hasn't eaten anything of merit since Friday. He doesn't even want canned cat food, milk, turkey, cheese or peanut butter. He isn't grooming himself either, though he is open to letting us brush him.   

We all love on him every chance we get, and more to the point, Finn--who is usually a bit standoffish--is letting us. Because he doesn't seem to be able to jump on the the furniture any longer, I fell asleep on the bedroom floor petting him for the last several nights. When Marty came home for lunch Monday afternoon, he found me curled up the bedroom closet. Finn was laying on my hand, purring.  

I didn't realize how we were all affected until Sunday afternoon when one of the Sunshines snapped at another. A third sagely pointed out we were all stressed about losing our cat, as that person gave Finn a few pats. Even Luna is hovering and whines when Finn doesn't move too much.

From our estimation, Finn isn't in pain. We know the inevitable is coming. 

 

Random Texarkana Garden Edition

The barrels have the new zucchini plants. The fence (and the copious amounts of cayenne pepper atop of the soil) is to ward off Luna. 

Behind the barrels are the potatoes. I need the green parts to die so
I can harvest the potatoes. Then I have to replace the soil, so not doing potatoes again.  

To the right of the barrels are my tomato plants. 

Behind all that is the peppers, more tomatoes, spinach, onions, radishes, mint (in a pot because it spreads like Tribbles) and cucumbers. 

The pumpkins are in the auxiliary garden at the back of the yard where they can take over to their heart's desire. 

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My garden is still in bloom. We have enough cucumbers supply a battalion of McDonald's restaurants with pickles for a long, long time. Speaking of which, Polly and I are trying our hand at pickling today. The bad news is I noticed I was losing a cucumber plant from disease, so I pulled that plant Saturday morning. If one plant is diseased, there are probably others diseased as well. So, my cucumber days are numbered. By the way, it is normal for plants to become diseased. Flora illness is spread by birds and bees. 

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We also have more tomatoes than one can possibly eat in a lifetime. My lawn guy helped himself to several green ones last week. I also gave Hannah, the cashier at the local Albertson's a handful of green tomatoes. She was so excited, that I'm afraid to go back into the store, lest she opt to accost me again. Hugging strangers in the South is a thing, I guess. 

By the way, if you want the BEST recipe for homemade tomato soup, hit me up. It does take 4 pounds of tomatoes. We still have plenty left. 

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With enough peppers, onions, tomatoes and cucumbers to last for eons, I took a basket around to a couple of neighbors. Mr. Charlie is friendly and always says hello. He took cucumbers, but left the peppers. That's fine. I kind of wanted those. There is a really cantankerous looking guy who lives directly across the street. I've told Marty, I find him to be a challenge and I'm gonna get this guy to smile at me someday. I went over to say hello yesterday. It turns out the guy has a delightful wife (Stephanie). She was thrilled beyond belief and took all the tomatoes she could. I didn't see the guy. Maybe she only dusts him off and sets him outside when she wants to scare people away. 

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I've been growing pumpkins and zucchini in the window from seeds. Polly swears we need pumpkins. I swear we don't. Saturday morning I transplanted a few into my garden. The rest I transplanted into pots and they will be brought to the Texarkana Community Garden Coalition meeting this next week to go into one of the five community gardens in town. I am thrilled to have grown something that might provide food for someone else.   

Finn

If we didn't already know there was an issue to begin with, the lack of protest from Finn Friday afternoon when Polly and I plopped him into the pet carrier gave it away. All week he'd been eating little, hobbling and not taking care of his coat. 

Hoping for something simple, we decided to see our ever-patient vet (he deals with Luna and still invites us back). Finn came in clean for diabetes, feline leukemia, and a host of other kitty-related illnesses. 

However, Dr. P. accidentally discovered a large amount of fluid building around his heart. He gave us the news: without more tests, Finn was either in late stages of heart failure or Finn had cancer. Apparently the symptoms were similar. Even with more tests, the outcome would be the same. 

What Dr. P. didn't know, was this was the exact diagnosis our family received a week before we lost Ollie. 

Finn isn't in pain. There is a liquid medication that will ease the fluid around his heart, helping him breathe better. In the past 24 hours we've gotten adept at administering it without much fight. There's another unopened medication to boost Finn's appetite sitting on my counter, which is unsafe for humans to touch. It turns out me caving and buying canned cat food as well as easing the fluid around his chest also does wonders for the cat's appetite. 

Right now we are keeping Finn comfortable. We all pet him and love on him every chance we get. Even Luna is playing nursemaid and hovering. Dr. P. made no promises, but did tell us he has a cat patient who has so far lived to 16 on the liquid medication. Finn is 14, so here's hoping.