Hoblitzelle Afternoon

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January 11, 2026- Sunday brings with it a commitment to clean my bathroom(done) and do my laundry (after I write this post). Hana time was plentiful today, but as any grandparent of a newborn knows, it could have been more. There is no task that is “not my job”, when it comes to our little girl’s well-being.

With the baby fed and asleep, and my personal space in order, I took some time, this afternoon,. to visit the western edge of our neighbourhood park: Hoblitzelle. The park was named for Karl and Esther Hoblitzelle, philanthropists in the Dallas area during the 1940s and ’50s. It has a short set of trails, on either side of Alma Road, in east Plano. Most of the trails are paved, and being a Great Plains environment, mostly flat.

Still, the sense of nature is quite fulfilling, and I will be glad to bring Hana there, frequently, once she is ambulatory and can enjoy playgrounds and the views of Russell Creek.That’s a year or two off, so, in the meantime, this will be one of the places I frequent, in order to get in some hikes.

Oaks at rest, Hoblitzelle Park, Plano
A short, broad trail, Hoblitzelle Park
Another oak at rest, Hoblitzelle Park
Mirror images, in Russell Creek, Hoblitzelle Park
Lingering colours, along Russell Creek
Limestone and tree debris, Russell Creek
Russell Creek flowing northward
Small fishing pond, south end of Hoblitzelle Park

So went my first of many visits to Plano area parks.

Edith Renfrow Smith

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January 10, 2026- She largely minded her own business, focusing on getting an education-even in the aftermath of Plessy vs.Ferguson, and then on educating others, for over forty years, and being vindicated by the decision in Brown vs. Board of Education. Edith Renfrow Smith was a product of small town Iowa, and in fact was the only African-American at her school in Grinnell and the first at its highly-regarded college, which she graduated in 1937. Edith died yesterday, in her adopted home of Chicago. She was 111.

Mrs. Smith was a mentor to the great jazz pianist, Herbie Hancock, who was her neighbour in Chicago. She gently encouraged him to attend Grinnell College, which he did, turning a dual interest in engineering and music into a career of innovation in piano jazz. She also met several prominent Black-Americans, from Gwendolyn Brooks to Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., during her years in Chicago.

I look at the lives of people like Mrs. Smith, who welcomed guests into her home, almost until the day she passed, as examples of how one can live life to the full, through a mix of civic engagement and maintaining a modicum of privacy. As the granddaughter of a runaway slave who himself built a new life in the free state of Iowa, she found a love for education and self-improvement were instilled in her. She passed those on to her two daughters and to her grandchildren. She also passed along the philosophy of greeting everyone with a smile. It was important to her that this small act was the basis for making the world a better place.

The balance set forth by Mrs. Smith is as fine a model to follow into advanced age, as any I have seen.

Wondering about Clouds

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January 9, 2026- In my early evening time with Hana, she was gazing up at the clouds and the tree in our front yard. The big upper windows allow plenty of room for a child to look up and out, especially when wrapped in the safety of loving arms. I told her about how clouds give trees life-giving water, just like we are feeding her life-giving milk. She continued to look at the scene outside. Her pre-lingual brain is, no doubt, saving images, with repeat observation and hearing similar words with regard to what she sees.

I wonder, too, about clouds, though of a different kind. The mental clouds we use to “shield” ourselves from the reality of things outside or even from our own shadow selves-misgivings, shrill self-condemnation, lack of impulse control, can be useful in the sense of giving time to process those negative elements and let them flow out. Held on too tightly, they can be energy-sapping and unnecessarily limiting.

That is the wisdom of nature: Clouds come, drop their load of rain or snow, and move along-so long as we,in our rush to make a profit or craving to hold onto ideas that have lost their efficacy, do not continue with policies and behaviours that interrupt the water cycle. Nature ebbs and flows well enough on its own. We have the choice of learning to flow with it, as many ancient cultures did, or of acting in arrogance and trying to supersede the natural rhythm.

Thumb Rockets

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January 7, 2026- “Let me show you a trick that your granddaughter will think is the stupidest thing she ever saw”, the new friend from McKinney said over lunch at a local deli. He proceeded to have me wrap a piece of paper around my thumb, and twist it to make a little “hat” for the thumb. He’s right; I think Hana would roll her eyes at that part, when she is about eight or nine. He then had me make an OK sign with my other thumb and forefinger, put it around my wrapped thumb and pull the thumb out of the paper, but in such a way that it made the paper go up and out- a thumb rocket.

D is an interesting man who has not had an easy life. That puts him in good company with a number of people I’ve known over the years. The difference is, he’s made mostly good choices, from the time he was a child. Growing up in the north of this Metroplex, when it was a long ways from being a Metroplex, he’s seen it all happen. Still, as I watched, the farmer in him caught a small rat by the tail and disposed if it in a way that a man who has plowed through hard knocks for eight decades would do without batting an eyelash. (No, that was NOT in the deli).

Time with a good ole boy is spent in a way similar to how time is spent with a First Nations person, a nomad of the Negev, or a campesino anywhere in the Southwest or Mexico. The watch stays hidden, because schedules don’t matter. D told stories of his childhood and his large family. A lot of his experiences mirror those of my male elders. Farm life is a great connector. After the nearly ninety-minute lunch, I drove around the area a bit, to ponder all that I had heard.

I will see D., and other local Baha’is, on a regular basis, so perhaps I will earn other “tricks” that will make my granddaughter alternately giggle and groan.

A Little Bottle

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January 4, 2026- It was my turn to feed Hana her “lunch” bottle of pumped milk. The focus is in developing her posture and promoting good digestion, so I supported her in an upright position. At the halfway point, she let up and we walked around a bit, while I burped her and told her about all the good things that will be outside, when she gets old enough to go out in a stroller, and afterward. A few minutes later, we sat back down and she finished the bottle.

She has started to look around, especially trying to find her maternal grandmother, who has been the strongest presence in her life, besides her parents. Of course, at two weeks, she can see mostly large figures and bright colours. The voices, though, are what are the easiest to identify. Those little eyes, though, have started to search.

I will be an increasing presence in Hana’s life, especially after Halmoni goes back to Korea, at month’s end. There are other things to do in the interim, mostly getting my vehicle registered in Texas and changing my driver’s license to the Lone Star state as well. Planet Fitness is a mile from here, so I just have to convince them to accept the same e-mail that I used at the Prescott club. It seems silly to have to have a special e-mail, solely for a gym membership, but technology can be ludicrous at times. Other aspects-Red Cross, Farmers Market, American Legion and the Baha’i Center, will need to be visited this week. The bank, the VA and chiropractic will round things off.

The little girl, and her little bottle, will be the most important parts of my life, for months to come.

Time to Stay Put

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January 3, 2026- It is a fine thing,sobremesa, the practice of sititng at the dinner table after a meal and having deep conversation. I’ve missed that, for the most part, over the past several years, only spending time in such a manner when with friends at restaurants. Now, this promises to be a nightly occurrence.

This evening’s talk touched briefly on the implications for the military, and its reserves, of today’s action in Venezuela, and possible other drastic moves in the weeks and months ahead. It also affects my intended visit to the Philippines. That is now postponed, indefinitely. My family’s sensibilities and the wider world’s instability have converged. There is, quite frankly, too much that is new: Hana, the house and her parents returning to work-albeit from home. I would be neither comfortable nor present being away from any of it.

There will again be a time when I will feel good about traveling, especially with family, domestically, and even going abroad, a few years hence. Now, though, my sense of adventure and equilibrium are focused on helping close to home and ensuring that a precious little girl gets off to a good start in life.

There is a lot one learns about oneself only when going through a novel situation.

Day Two in Plano

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January 2, 2026- Hana cried in the night and got the care she needed. I was exhausted from the long day of unloading and carrying boxes/bags upstairs, so I deferred to everyone else in the house. At 6:30, the little girl was fast asleep but I was up and so prepared to go with Aram and return the Penske truck. No fuss, no muss, the move was in the rear view mirror-pun intended.

Back at the house, my day was spent unloading Sportage and putting things away. Change of address was sent to financial institutions and a few vendors. The main point of the day, in fact the past two days, is how well my son and I work together, as men equal in stature. This is the realization of my fatherhood-and seeing him take on fatherhood of his own with clarity and commitment is even more heartening.

He has long been a doer-the Navy brought that out in him, and to see him as a homesteader, confidently taking on each task that presents itself, from snuggling his squalling daughter into comfort and peace, to putting together furniture,paying careful attention to detail, is breathtaking. I am here to help when he calls for it, or at least when it is obvious that one man can’t be expected to lift, carry or push something into place. That was a lesson I learned from my father, so long ago. Back then, the brothers-in-law backed each other up and were on hand for everything from re-tiling a roof or painting the peaks of a two-or-three storey house to getting a car started on a cold, clear January night.

Women never moved away from that camaraderie. Men did. It’s nice to see it back.

The Penske Chronicles, Day 7

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January 1, 2026, Plano- Yes, I am at new Home Base. Purposefully driving from Memphis, TX, by memory, I got here in time to go with Aram and unload the moving van at a storage facility in the area. That turned out to be an adventure in itself.

First, we went to one of the company’s many facilities in the Plano area, and got my account completed, with the help of an agent, over Facetime. However, it turned out to be the wrong facility. The correct one was not far away, though, and by taking 10 loads, we were able to get all that was not immediately necessary to the house, into the storage unit.

The rest is now in the house and the moving van can finally be returned tomorrow morning. I am now 90% settled, and the residency part will be accomplished over the next three or four business days. That, however, is a chronicle of a different sort.

Happy 2026, one and all!

The Penske Chronicles, Day 6

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December 31, 2025, Memphis, TX- I woke this morning, no longer being an actual resident of Arizona-for the first time since March 1, 1992. It does not feel strange, or saddening, or melancholic. Most likely, it’s all the circumstances of this move. Being a grandfather is an amazing feeling-as those who have arrived here before me know all too well.

After a light breakfast at Red Roof Inn, I checked the bed of the moving van and found nothing amiss, after yesterday’s drive from Prescott to Gallup. I drove to Grants, bought some ice for the two coolers, and again found nothing out of order. My chock-a-block packing job is working-keeping everything low to the floor saves items toppling onto one another.

A lunch and refueling stop in Moriarty brought a satisfying meal served by a cheerful young lady named Hope. Her demeanour contrasted with that of the dour, petulant gas counter clerk, but one can’t have all sweetness and light.

The rest of the drive across New Mexico and the Texas Panhandle was serene, and I arrived here, in a town named for a mistaken address. A letter intended for Memphis, TN was sent to Texas. When a clergyman living in the area saw it, he decided to recommend that the locality actually be named Memphis. The idea was accepted, enthusiastically by a majority of the residents, and Memphis, Texas was born.

So, I am seeing 2025 out the door, in this quiet little namesake of a musical powerhouse. Rock Inn Cafe, where I had dinner this evening, was showing a montage of New Year’s Eve music fests-including New Year’s Rockin’ Eve, which gave the establishment its name. There were few people in the restaurant, but the food was good. I will likely go back there tomorrow, for breakfast, before heading off to the Metroplex and Home Base.

Happy New Year, Asia, Oceania, Australia, Africa, Europe, South America and the eastern third of North America! We will all catch up with you, shortly.

The Penske Chronicles, Day 3

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December 28, 2025- The loading started, this afternoon, with storage unit items up against the cab wall and house/garage items towards the gate. I will make an effort to reserve a storage unit, tomorrow morning, for Thursday evening or Friday drop-off, before I have to return the truck. Pictures and other wall ornaments came down; most were bubble-wrapped and boxed. Unexpired non-perishable food was also either boxed or bagged. These all go in the truck tomorrow morning. The house will really look empty, save for furniture, by tomorrow night.

It has been a successful, but exhausting day. That’s alright, my family is also engaged in exhausting work. We are going to build a strong Home Base, for our little one, and for each other.

The day started with my first effort to use my new debit card. FYI: If you have a digital debit account and have activated it, the physical card also has to be activated, separately. This I know now, for any future such transactions. It was a one-time annoyance to not be able to join my American Legion Post mates for one final breakfast. Theodore’s, near the market where I bought a couple of toiletries, was a perfect substitute, though I ate solo.

I did get one last Sunday paper and enjoyed working through about half of the LA Times Crossword. That paper will help wrap cups and what few other table items I will keep. The paper should end with Tuesday’s delivery. Then again, everything else about my Prescott residence ends Tuesday.

The Texas Era will take shape, and the second half of my Seventies will have one main focus: To be an anchor for this family of three.