Where do I begin.
I'll start with the date. Today is Sunday, June 26, 2016, at 8:22 pm. Next week at this time, my family and I will be en route to Ferndale, Washington, which is just north of Bellingham, which is just north of Seattle, which is significantly north of where we are currently.
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| That's a lot of road construction. |
That's a really boring beginning, but it's something that should be said. My family and I are leaving Texas, and this blog (which hasn't been tended to in over two years) will no longer be relevant. I haven't read any of the previous posts in that same time period, and I'm interested to compare the beginning to the end.
Where do I begin.
We've met a lot of friends here. At first, it was hard to meet people. We were stuck in the world's tiniest apartment, Nolan wasn't yet in school, Brian was working a lot, I was depressed. Nolan and I tried to find adventures (the Heritage Farmstead Museum was fun), meet new people (that's how I was first introduced to the joys of meetup.com), and find a little bit of beauty in an ugly place (no offense, DFW, but you're kind of boring to look at).
And then we made our first friends: Cristi and Federico.
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| Federico |
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| Cristi |
Our first Thanksgiving in Texas was celebrated with our new friends, and we had great conversations, food, and laughs. That particular holiday was everything Hallmark says it should be, complete with Black Friday shopping on Thursday. When we leave Texas in a week, I will miss our first friends here.
Where do I begin.
I love our house. I don't like our house. I love it because it's new and brick and spacious. I don't like it because the garage is small and my stuff overflows it. I love it because of the engineered hardwood floors, porch swing, and the paint I chose for it. I don't like it because it's too dark when you walk in, the bedrooms are on separate floors, and my neighbors can see in my windows.
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| I'll miss the brick. |
About once a month, I wonder what our lives would have been like had we lived in that house. Would Nolan have done as well in school? Would we have had nice neighbors? Would we have been happier? Would we have regretted it? Would my business have been any different?
Where do I begin.
Ah, my business. My beautiful, amazing, creative, frustrating, joyous, satisfying business. In case you're completely clueless, I own my own business. It was launched right here in Texas in August of 2014.
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| Grown in Minnesota, Made in Texas |
Log Slices By Margie has shown me more of Texas than anything else. I've met wonderful people, learned a lot about the area, and discovered just how hot it can be in July.
When I first started making ornaments out of log slices, I wood-burned images of moose, deer, pine trees, and black bears on them. At my very first event, a woman asked me if I had anything with Texas on it.
"No," I replied, smiling apologetically at her, "but I can make one for you."
She studied me for a moment, and then asked, "How long have you lived in Texas?"
"Well," I said, "I think it's been about 15 months since we moved here."
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| Work in progress |
That one comment stuck with me, and it's what completely changed my product line. I went from acorns to A & M, owls to 5-point stars, forest green to bright red, mountains to cowboy boots. At some craft shows I couldn't keep Texas-related ornaments in stock. When I move back to Washington, I'll sell my Texas stuff at clearance and hope I can get rid of it.
Where do I begin.
DFW is surrounded by suburbs. Some are very rich, some are very poor, but most are right in the middle. We live in a bedroom community called Little Elm. It's a nice town with nice people that is trying to find its identity while competing with its fancy neighbor to the east, Frisco. Good luck.
The best part about living in the 'burbs is the people. The worst part about living in the 'burbs is the people. I made many friends, but I was also exposed to some nasty drama. Unfortunately, I got sucked in. Fortunately, I pulled myself out.
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| 'nuff said. |
Living here has taught me many things about people. The biggest thing is that we never really know anyone. Behind the pretty faces, clean houses, and shiny mini-vans lurks drug addiction, divorce, backstabbing, infidelity, money problems, theft, racism, and more.
I'm grateful I'm being given a second chance at living in a close-knit neighborhood in Ferndale, but the things I've learned around here have (sadly) hardened me to the truths of this world. I won't be as trusting, naive, or open with new friends. I'll still be me... just a little more guarded.
Where do I begin.
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| Blue bonnets are a thing. Like a THING. |
I won't miss the heat, lack of culture, the 90% of drivers who refuse to use their turn signal, lack of recycling, two-faced people who go to church on Sunday but are against helping refugees, lack of acceptance towards marijuana, and the general ugliness that is DFW. Seriously, the song "Big Yellow Taxi" is a perfect description of this area.
Where do I begin.
I hate good byes. I really can't stand this awkward time when people are saying goodbye to me and we don't know if our paths will ever cross again. I don't like thinking that this is my last full Sunday in Texas. I don't like selling my home to people who are really nice, will love it, and will make it their home in just a few days.
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| Nothing quite like paying a lot of money to be really cold. |
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| Overhausers in Texas |
Thank you, Texas. Good bye.
