The Cornerstone

I have been in Texas for five full days and have encountered many new sites, sounds, and road names. There is a lot of grass and trees (unlike Jersey City where my sister lives) but only half the trees have leaves and the grass is brown. There are huge jets flying overhead day and night, the Dallas airport is nearby—I have actually enjoyed the noise. There are railroad tracks not too far away but hey, I’m from Holland. Getting stuck behind trains is one of my hobbies. Also, there is a much larger population of Hispanics than in Holland, all of whom are super nice even if they don’t know English. One of the construction guys working on Todd and Tammy’s house explained to me in Spanish and with hand signals that I am tall.

As for the different road names I previously mentioned, Texas seems to take the cake. It seems as if every major road (which would be any road not leading into a neighborhood) has two if not three names. One road I was looking for yesterday had three names, all of which where on the street sign! 1709, Keller Pkwy, and W something I cannot remember at the moment, were the three names.

I have a five mile radius mapped out in order to get the hang of driving around here. The three main roads running East and West are Watauga, N Tarrant, and Basswood Blvd. Kind of different from Lakewood, James, and Riley. It’s a little ironic that if I’ve hit N Beach St. that I know I have gone too far. Get it? If I’ve hit the Beach I’ve gone too farJ.

For some reason I have seen many men riding motorcycles (without helmets!) and no men riding horses. I guess that’s what is to be expected when living in such an urban area. Despite the urban environment I have not however concluded my search for a cowboy! At every intersection there are about twenty stores, all of which you get to by driving through the other store parking lots. I have learned to never try and turn left out of any parking lot. There is a CVS pharmacy at almost every intersection. Wal-Mart and Target have large grocery sections inside them, which kind of makes up for me missing Meijer.

There are not any lines painted on the roads, only reflectors that look like little bubbles sticking up out of the cement. Someone decided there should be a ton of fire lanes at the base of every building and has made them very obvious with bright red paint and the words “fire lane” painted in white. And fire hydrants are silver.

I have yet to see a painted curb. However, house numbers are painted in small rectangles on the curbs at either side of a driveway. You can support your favorite Texas team by painting your house number in their colors or paint something such as a Texas Longhorn next to the number.

Mailboxes are nonexistent on some streets. However, you will find a nice brick (just like all of the homes) column with small metal mailboxes in the back. Do not expect your address to be on the box though; they are numbered 1-9 and require a key to open. Why a key? Because everything must be locked at all times: your front door, both gate doors to the back yard, your car, and do not leave your purse in the car.

If the weather is supposed to be in the upper 70’s that mean between about noon and 5pm. The screens are so dense that you have a skewed view of the world outside. There is construction dust everywhere because someone decided to tear up the front entryway, formal and informal dining room, and kitchen floors only to begin work on the master bathroom. When water hits the concrete floor it turns to mud.

Now don’t get me wrong, I love living here. I just think making light of all these new experiences is the only way to adjust quickly to a lot of change all at once.

I visited a mega church (which also houses a private academy and day care) the other day. The church secretary was so sweet it was like we were related but had just never met before. She was so excited to introduce me to people who worked at the church, including the pastor, that night when I came back for an informal “pastor’s bible study” on four words in Psalm 23. The message was on grief and both Pat and her husband Joe told me they lost their son on December 19 and I met his fiancé too. I cannot imagine what they have been through in only the past month.

I am hoping to get involved in the singles ministry, women’s ministry, and prayer ministry at Harvest church. My beliefs parallel theirs and so far I have felt right at home. I will be taking a one time class Sunday morning which will tell me more about Harvest and give me a tour of the facilities.

I have not met anyone my age there yet because they were all helping with the youth on Wednesday night. That just means I’ll plan on doing just the same in the future. I enjoy working with kids and have not worked with middle schoolers since I was in high school.

The trip down here was an adventure of its own. My friends Hilary, Jodie, and Ronda drove down with me. We used Hilary’s van and my Saturn. Friday night we stopped in Memphis where we had ribs at Rendezvous’, bar hopped on Beale St., and then had a tour of Graceland in the morning. My favorite part of Graceland were Elvis’ motorcycles and the plaque containing all the organizations he donated money to, oh, and his 15 foot white couch in the living room.

It is interesting to hear everyone’s take on the economy in Texas. Some say it is doing alright, others say it is slowing down, and then there are all of the buildings going up all over the place suggesting that things are going well. Fort Worth is apart of the Bible belt. On every other corner is a church and most of the churches seem to have schools or day cares attached to them.

While reading employment adds in the newspaper today I found an ad requiring the care of “mentally retarded” adults. WOW. There are still a lot of close minded people in this world. I cannot believe they actually were allowed to print that in the newspaper.
Okay, that was a really long first post but I have not gotten my computer hooked up to wireless internet and just last night decided to compose this on Word and later paste to my blog.

Your Texan Girl, Marie