April 25,2026- “Where have you been?”, fumed the Farmer’s Market assistant director, as she was sweeping up a pile of vegetable refuse. In the next breath, she said “Oh, that’s right, you moved to Texas to be with family,” At that point, I woke up and realized it was the day for Farmer’s Market, alright, but I was going to the Plano market-and I am not a volunteer there, The vendors all have their own tents and chairs, which they keep with them. There is no set-up/breakdown crew here, as there is in Prescott.
I read the newsletter from Prescott Farmers Market, so I know they are doing well and have a sizeable group of volunteers. Threads of nostalgia come every so often-and mostly in dreams. It seems like a healthy way for good memories to intertwine with a good feeling about my life here.
A Navy colleague of Aram’s stopped by this afternoon, with some of his family members. Turns out they live in West, TX, which is one of the places I visited on my first real Texas jaunt, in 2012. The place where they live now is a stone’s throw from the site of the fertilizer plant explosion that devastated the town in April, 2013. The town has recovered quite well from that tragedy. This is just another thread that keeps me connected to places that helped me re-establish my sense of equilibrium, after losing my wife.
At one point, this evening, there were ten of us in the house: Our family of four, the four visitors from West and two HVAC workers, who were on the last portion of the installation of a new heating and cooling unit. Hana had never seen this many people together in the house, and was actually quite happy. She smiled broadly at the visitors, while being uncharacteristically quiet. She is usually quite vocal, when we are sitting around, or when she is involved in an activity.
The threads of belonging are fashioning another fine quilt-like the ones in Arizona,in the Northeast, in the Philippines, in Canada and in parts of Europe.
A Sagittarian Seeker 