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.

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.

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 5

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December 30, 2025- Everything happens according to a blend of the needs and wants of those involved. I had a lot of downtime today, but while I waited for the DAV furniture crew, necessary calls to utilities were made, and I cleaned out the long-ignored storage shed in the carport. Lesson learned: Don’t let stuff from ten or fifteen years ago just sit, unattended. Most of it was in fairly good condition. Some was given to my dear friend, Melissa. Other items were happily claimed by my landlord, and a few things went to recycling or to the landfill.

The cleaning lady came on time and worked in the back, as it was cleared out. The furniture to be donated to Disabled American Veterans sat in the front room with me, while waiting for the movers to pick up. Melissa came in mid-afternoon, selected what she could use, and as she was ready to leave, lo and behold-there were Mo and Grant, ready to roll out the items the DAV could sell, and graciously take the other items to the dump-for a slight fee. Robert and I took care of the rest.

I had to forego both lunch with my hiking buddy and Feast at two Baha’i friends’ home, but this clear-out is done. I do not feel any wistfulness or sadness, leaving Prescott. Life is going forward, and I with it. The most precious beings in my life wait in Plano, my new Home Base and the place where I will settle by the end of this week. 2025 is coming to a close, but first, I will get to Gallup for the night.

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.

The Penske Chronicles, Day 2

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December 27, 2025- It sits across the street, like a monument to the end of an era. There it will receive its load, over the next few days, as my Prescott home is dismantled. It will “watch” silently, as furniture collectors come and go; as a cleaning crew arrives to remove twelve years of my footprint.

This Penske and I made it to the former Home Base I around 8:30, this evening. There was no one around, and as I collected a small amount of mail & newspapers, the night remained silent. Only the heater interrupted the stillness, providing its comfort with an occasional clanging and blowing.

The day started out much differently. Almara Inn’s housekeepers, a spirited team of three women, were on the job and bantering, not long after I got myself together. One of them, seeing no vehicle in front of the room, thought I had left and was delighted by the prospect of finishing early. I didn’t dampen her spirits by much, though, as I was out by 9:30.

Breakfast at Del’s was a quiet delight. The house was full, and my meal, ample. Two families were among the crowd, quietly keeping conversation. Two little girls, one clutching a doll, made me think of our Hana. It doesn’t take much to bring her top of mind. That will probably be so, for the rest of my life.

The road west was fairly uneventful. I was reminded, at a fuel stop in Albuquerque, to avoid tight spaces with this rig. No harm done, though, and I was able to gas up there, and again in Holbrook. I stopped for lunch at Dancing Eagle, in Laguna, and opted for the casino snack bar, over the busier full service restaurant. The small crew at the snack bar was working just as hard, and prepared a decent chicken quesadilla.

The storm that had ravaged southern California, earlier this week, made its presence known as I went through Flagstaff. It was no where near as fierce as it had been, though, and by the time I reached the Sedona junction, there was no sign of precipitation. The sizeable group of travelers kept in order, and we all made it safely downhill.

Once off I-17, there was scant traffic, and on up to Prescott we went-the last time I will make that trip as a resident. Three more days, and this soon-to-be Texan will carry Arizona in heart, only returning as a visitor, now and then-just as I do to Massachusetts and Maine.

The Penske Chronicles, Day 1

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December 26, 2025, Tucumcari- I admit it, driving a large vehicle, with limited and convex mirrors, through a busy Metropolitan area kind of frightens me. Nonetheless, my present task, for the next seven days, involves driving this Penske moving van from Plano to Prescott and back. I was taught to face my fears and find a way to get difficult things done. I credit both my father and my Army drill instructors for this.

After Aram dropped me at the rental office, this morning, I spent an hour with the flustered agency clerk, working through the AI-generated snap price increase-which was reversed by calling the main office. The clerk was more than a bit irritated by the increase, and felt vindicated when the area director restored the price than he and I had agreed on, over the phone.

So, I set out onto a busy US Highway 75, holding still for three vehicles to my left, who were trying to exit the highway, then merging onto the thoroughfare and letting my phone’s GPS guide me through the rest of the Metroplex portion of the journey-about 50 miles. There was no further hassle.

First stop was for lunch, at a Pilot Truckstop, in the small village of Justin, best known for its cowboy boots outlet. I have no need for such boots, so after lunch and fueling the truck, I headed up the Northwest Passage. Another fuel stop in Childress was followed by dinner and picking up a few items at the Buccee’s, in Amarillo.

It was still light out, so I enjoyed the sunset and headed onward to the Mesalands. Almara Inn proved a perfect stop for the night, with a spacious area for the Penske to rest the night as well. Best of all, it’s right next to Del’s Diner, where I had dinner the last time here, and plan to enjoy breakfast there tomorrow. I might very well get all the way to Prescott by tomorrow night, adding an extra day for boxing up remaining items and loading the truck, ahead of Tuesday’s furniture pick-up and deep cleaning by a hired crew.

It has always paid to face my fears.

Home Base for the Holiday

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December 25, 2025, Plano- Hana and her parents came through the door at 1:35 p.m., after a long and careful discharge process. She was fast asleep, and stayed that way until it was time for her 3 p.m. feeding (Every three hours is the newborn’s lot). I had pretty much tended to the business of the house for three days, to the relief of exhausted Mom and Dad. They worked out the home routine, while I prepared dinner. Hana slept on and showed signs of dreaming. I wonder what a newborn’s dreams are like.

Although we do not celebrate Christmas, with gifts and such, the Divine saw fit to give us the sweetest gift of all, a young person who already shows glimmerings of personality and tells us when she wants to eat and when she has had enough. I would wager nearly every baby tries to show who s(he) is, and those who pay attention are the best friends a child could ever want. Our little girl simply stops nursing when she is full-smart idea.

To me, the celebration of Christ’s Message at this cusp of Solstice is a celebration of hope, as the Northern Hemisphere slowly regains its light. Nowhere should people be more hopeful than in a new family, settling into a new house, with a new configuration. Nowhere is the well of love greater, than in this home on a cul-de-sac, in a working class neighbourhood in a thriving suburb of Dallas.

Tomorrow I head back to Prescott, finish up clearing out my old apartment and do whatever I need to do to dispose of furniture that no one seems to want back there. Today, though, was Home Base for the holiday.

A New Home Base

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December 21, 2025, Plano- There was lighter traffic than usual in the Dallas-Fort Worth Metroplex. Sunday could be a heavy shopping day, a few days before Christmas. Perhaps the presidential proclamation that extends the holiday from one mid-week day to a five day affair may have something to do with this, but I have my doubts,

In any case, the drive from Clarendon, on the south end of the Texas Panhandle, to this bustling corporate mecca, on the east side of the Metroplex. was as smooth as silk. I was fortified by a simple, but hearty breakfast at Clarendon Outpost, later supplemented by a Smores Latte at Valley Pecans, my favourite stop along the way, in Chillicothe. The Northwest Passage has other delights, which I’m sure will draw me in, on the next and final phase of this transition from Desert Southwest to Great Plains.

The house felt homey, despite the organization that we will tackle in stages. Today, after Sportage was unloaded, boxes were powered upstairs to my new rooms and leaves were raked and (largely) bagged, we enjoyed Korean food and took up a few remaining tasks, before tomorrow’s big event. I will stay behind, to greet and oversee another contractor, while parents and child begin their first day together.

Thus will begin my new life as a grandparent, as one friend recently quoted his mentor, “coaching from the sidelines”, while leaving the heavy lifting of parenthood to someone I knew as a 6.2 pound newborn, now a 6’1″ powerhouse, who is more than capable of the teamwork that will see a little girl to womanhood.

I will spend this week getting to know a tiny person, a true bundle of joy, before going back to Prescott to tie up affairs as well as any fourteen years of life can be tied up. Then will commence my life in a new Home Base.