Where Do I Begin

It's admittedly cliche to begin a written piece with "Where do I begin." But really, where do I begin when something is coming to an end and so much has happened that the idea of writing about it is overwhelmingly confusing?

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.

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.

Federico

Cristi

Suddenly, we actually had people to whom we could relate. Cristi is un-apologetically honest, funny, and blunt--in different ways than me. Federico is an Italian who knows more about the United States than anyone else I know (except for maybe my dad).

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.

I'll miss the brick.

This actually wasn't supposed to be our home. We were supposed to be in an entirely different city, about 35 minutes from where we are. We put an offer on the other house, it was accepted, but we backed out after it was discovered there were foundation problems.

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.

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."

Work in progress

She laughed and declared, "And you haven't figured out yet that Texans love Texas?"

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.

'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.

Blue bonnets are a thing. Like a THING.

I'm going to miss living in the Dallas-Fort Worth Metroplex. I'll miss the food, hanging out at the pool in September, the slight accents, driving fast on the North Tollway, the brick houses, my amazing vegetable gardens, the fantastic schools, the booming businesses, hardworking Hispanics building houses, small town football, the expansive infrastructure, polite people holding doors open, blue bonnets, and my friends.

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.

Nothing quite like paying a lot of money to be really cold.

I don't like thinking that this could be my last "Overhausers in Texas" blog post. Not even "could" be. It is.

To Texas I say "Thank you." Thank you for being my home for the last 35 and one half months. Thank you for everything you've shown me and my family. Thank you for the good times, the bad times, the friendships, memories, and moments. Thank you for being everything I thought you'd be and nothing I expected. Thank you for the pride

Overhausers in Texas

you've given me, the smile on my face when I hear a song with "Texas" in it, and the license plates I will joyfully hang in my new home's garage.


Thank you, Texas. Good bye.

Garage Doors and Primer and Scarecrows

I have yet to compose a response to the HOA's reply from yesterday. I did have a nice chat with my Realtor, who concurred that I would have more pull once we're actually living in the house. She was able to offer me some good insight on various HOA inner workings and gave me a good pep talk.

Moving on...

This morning, Nolan and I made our way to the Heritage Farmstead Museum for a build-your-own scarecrow event.

The Museum offers great "Mommy and Me" events approximately every-other Friday. Nolan enjoys seeing the animals and meeting the other kids, and I enjoy getting him out of the house.  Not to be really mom-ish, but I also really enjoy watching him have fun.  I am such a grown-up.

Here's Nolan and the other kids during story time:

Nolan is in the red pants and navy shirt, to the left of the girl
with the long blond hair.

Must have been pretty suspenseful because
he's holding onto that platform.

I think he was a little into it.

And how he's checking out the girl next to him.

After story time, Nolan and the kids helped make a real scarecrow.

Busy working (no such thing as a free lunch, 'eh?)

Nolan surrounded by four girls.  He was their muscle.

"Uh... where's the guy's head?"

 After making a headless corpse scarecrow, the kids headed back into the pole barn to make a craft.  The kids made a scarecrow head out of a brown lunch sack filled with newspaper (cause that will withstand the Texas weather).

Nolan squishing his scarecrow head.

Normally, there's a chance to feed the animals and go on a wagon ride, but we left because I forgot to take my medications and I was feeling withdrawal symptoms.  Gah!!  Not fun!

We went to the gym, then decided a trip to the house sounded fun.  Here are some pictures!

A garage door.  This poor door doesn't realize that in a few weeks
it will be hiding a massive amount of stuff.

Hard to tell, but the walls and ceiling have been textured and
primed (I think).

Master bathroom looking into the master closet.

Upstairs in one of the bedrooms.

And then my cell phone died so I couldn't take pictures of the homeless people squatting in our house.  Boo!

At the gas station, I saw some firewood on sale (which kills me to buy because I think about the ample piles of logs at my folks', some of which I helped stack three weeks ago) and I impulsively purchased two bundles (4.50/each... not kidding).

We stopped by the liquor store, grabbed some Fireball, came home, and I got this magnificent fire roaring.

At least the wood looks really nice.

Now it's almost 8 o'clock on a Friday night in Texas, and I'm going to put Nolie to bed and probably fall asleep in minutes.  Such is the life when you're a rock star like me.