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My view from today.

July 24, 2015 By Talya Tate Boerner 29 Comments

Today is significant. If I were to draw a line in the sand to separate yesterday from tomorrow, today would be that line. The end of a part of my life. The beginning of something new. My view from today is much like the view from the top of a Ferris wheel.

Today, our youngest is moving to Denver to start his new job. His career. The rest of his life. Today truly feels like the first empty nest day. The college years merely provided practice and time to become accustomed to cooking less for supper.

Now things get real.Continue Reading

speaking of dentists and collard greens…

February 26, 2015 By Talya Tate Boerner 7 Comments

And speaking of dentists and collard greens… Were we? Well, I have been talking about dentists with my mother’s college roommate who hates hates hates going to the dentist. And collard greens, lots of people hate those too, but not me (keep reading for more on this tie-in). I’ve never minded the dentist and in fact, if I could get my teeth cleaned every month and have insurance pay for it, I would.

One of the absolute worst things about moving to another state has been having to change doctors. I loved my Dallas dentist and all the ladies who work there. If you live in the area and need a dentist, I highly recommend Travis Spillman / Dental Center of Lakewood. He isn’t one of those dentists who tries to refill every old filling in your head or sends you off with a detailed financial plan for future work. He’s a young (but not Doogie-young) guy with old school ways and a super cool office that includes flat screens in each examination room so you can watch television while getting your teeth clean. Nice.

Luckily, Dr. Spillman referred me to a dentist in Rogers. Todd Phelan, DDS. They went to dental school together. Yay. Having a referral makes changing much easier. Yesterday I went for my first cleaning. I’m telling you, it was a pleasure.

First off, when I first walked in, the background music was Talking Heads. Good music set the stage for what followed. (I once had a dentist who played opera and sang along with it. After a while, it got to me.)

Secondly, you know those two pages that must be filled out every time you walk into a doctor’s office? His was the best questionnaire ever. One of the questions was tell us a little about yourself. Another was what are your hobbies? Oh my, these are dangerous from a writer’s perspective. I filled the page down the margin, included a shameless plug for my blog, and even worked in how I love collards. No kidding. I’d eat them every meal if I could. And I could if I made them more often.

Third, the entire staff was so friendly. We have already bonded over a certain hilarious story I can’t discuss here but may have to write a short story about.

Fourth, the examining chairs vibrated. Yes. Massage examination chairs. Nothing weird, just a little relaxing vibration on the upper back, shoulders and head. Heaven at the dentist office and those words may never have been written together until now. Maybe this is normal for Northwest Arkansas, I don’t know, but the only place I ever experienced this in Dallas was at Fine Nails. And, I’ve been to some fancy schmancy doctor’s offices in Dallas, specifically those that charge half a semester of college for a root canal.

Fifth. I’m sure there is one, but I can’t get past those chairs. Well done, Dr. Phelan.

Grace Grits and Gardening

Farm. Food. Garden. Life.

[tweetthis]Heaven at the dentist office. Massage examination chairs! #ToddPhelan #NWA [/tweetthis]

Musical Pairing:

Talking Heads – And She Was

I’m official. I have an Arkansas driver’s license!

December 4, 2014 By Talya Tate Boerner 13 Comments

I have exciting news! So exciting that I’m using an explanation point right off which I rarely do. Yesterday I became an official Arkansas resident again. Totally legit because I went through the process of proving my identity to re-gain a shiny new Arkansas driver’s license. I’ve come full circle. Can I get a Woo Pig Sooie? And might I say, the process was downright pleasurable compared to doing anything associated with the driver’s license process in Dallas, Texas. An-eee-thing.

Let me compare.

The last time I renewed my license in Dallas, I drove downtown on my lunch break, searched for a parking spot near City Hall, fed coins into a meter, walked half a block avoiding eye contact with panhandlers who are part of the landscape, found my way through the massive building to the driver’s license department, and waited thirty minutes in a cramped, crowded space for my number to be called.

Dallas City Hall

“Now serving 185.”

I was 301. Or something like that.

No one dared smile.

I felt certain I would leave with the flu.

Three weeks later, I received my new license in the mail. Was that me? I looked thin, haggard, sleep-deprived. Because I was.

Fast forward eight years or so…

This time I drove five minutes through the University of Arkansas campus, admired the gorgeous Christmas decorations adorning sorority house row, pulled into a free parking space five steps from the door of the revenue office. The revenue office that supports the Razorbacks. Gotta love that!

I walked right in and froze, not sure what to do or if I was in the right place because there were more employees working behind the counter than customers waiting. Was that even allowed?

I pulled number 42 from the ticket machine.

Immediately I heard “41”.

Before I took a seat, I heard “42”.

Just wow.

I handed over my identity papers because paperwork requirements are the same everywhere, and there’s that whole terrorist issue, BUT when the process is handled by an employee named Ellen who smiles and seems to actually enjoy her job, it doesn’t seem so arduous.

We chatted.

She asked me a few questions and in no time handed over my new Arkansas plate.

I grinned like a fiend.

“Did you not like Texas?” Ellen asked.

“No, I did. But I love being back home in Arkansas.”

Ellen snapped my picture and I walked away gripping my new driver’s license in my palm like an Arkansas diamond. People—state of the art technology right in the little office that looked more like an old Ken’s Pizza Parlor.

Of course my picture is still a driver’s license picture, and those are never very good. But it’s tons better than the cringe-worthy one I’ve been living with for the past eight years. I don’t look skinny or haggard or sleep deprived, because I’m not. In fact, I’m at least ten pounds heavier, and I’m okay with that. I call it my ten pounds of happiness.

Because I am.