Something must happen to our heads (or at least my head) when we grow up. Maybe our heads get a little larger or our ears get in the way. All of a sudden, the quest is on for the perfect sleeping pillow. I know it’s not just me because when I go into many stores, they have a large section of pillows. I see shelves and shelves of  pillows. There are hard, medium and soft pillows. There are down pillows, feather pillows and down alternative pillows. I found a pillow with three different inserts that you can take one or more out to make the pillow more suitable for your head and ears. I bought one and it just didn’t work for my head. Sometimes when I travel, I like the pillow on my bed and ask if I can purchase it, not ever thinking about the hundreds of different heads that have used that pillow. The hotel graciously denies my request but gives me the name of the pillow manufacturer. I have purchased a very expensive pillow from said manufacturer but it just didn’t feel the same as the one in the hotel. I guess those good pillows are only available to hotels. 

Is my head different from other people’s or do other people go through the same process? I can spend hours going through the pillow section of a famous Swedish store, fluffing them, leaning my head on each one and purchasing the one that feels the best, but still not perfect. I have given pillows to family members. They are not accepted at thrift stores, so what do you do? Then I started noticing people who have beautiful decorative pillows on their sofas and beds. Did they buy decorative covers to hide their “not quite perfect” bed pillows? I wonder if I should do the same.

But Texans also demand smart, common-sense decisions. Right now, we need an honest conversation about the explosive growth of hyperscale data centers that are rapidly consuming our land, water, and power.

It is time for a temporary moratorium on new hyperscale data center development in Texas until we fully assess the long-term impacts on our infrastructure, agricultural economy, and communities. We must not surrender our resources to global corporations without asking hard questions about the costs to Texas families, farmers, ranchers, and property owners.

These facilities are rising at breakneck speed across rural Texas, drawn by cheap land, reliable energy, and a pro-business climate. What began as promising economic development is quickly becoming a severe strain on the systems Texans depend on daily.

Many consume enough electricity to power entire towns. They draw massive volumes of water for cooling, even amid ongoing drought. Rural communities that have conserved resources for generations now compete with corporate giants that can transform entire regions overnight.

Texans deserve answers before this continues unchecked:

How much will these projects stress the ERCOT grid during summer peaks or winter storms?

What happens to property values and local infrastructure when prime farmland becomes industrial server farms?

How much ground and surface water will be depleted?

Who truly benefits from the tax incentives?

And when agriculture’s needs collide with those of global tech giants, whose interests prevail?

These are not hypothetical questions. In Georgia, residents erupted after a data center reportedly used nearly 30 million gallons of water during drought. Here in Texas, Hill County recently paused rural data center construction for a year. Communities nationwide have imposed restrictions or bans over noise, water use, pollution, and infrastructure overload.

Texas farmers and ranchers already battle rising input costs, water shortages, and pressure on productive land. Meanwhile, residents face soaring housing prices and strained infrastructure. We cannot blindly accept every project wrapped in “AI” or “innovation” buzzwords.

Our food and agriculture sector generates roughly $900 billion in economic output. It feeds, clothes, and fuels the nation. Protecting our rural communities, water supplies, and electric grid is essential to Texas’s future. Leaders must ensure growth strengthens the state rather than hollowing it out.

A temporary moratorium is not anti-business or anti-innovation. It creates breathing room for lawmakers, regulators, utilities, water experts, landowners, and agriculture to craft responsible guardrails before the industry outgrows our ability to manage it.

We need comprehensive, independent studies on water use and grid reliability and stronger transparency on incentives. We need clear priorities that put critical infrastructure and Texans first, and firm protections for productive agricultural land against permanent industrial conversion.

President Trump’s “America First” philosophy applies here. Economic development must benefit working Texans and strengthen our communities, not overwhelm them.

Texans have built the greatest agricultural economy in America through generations of resilience against drought, flood, freeze, and market turmoil. We should not risk that foundation for Silicon Valley promises and photo-op ribbon-cuttings. Growth without vision is not leadership.

Texans demand balance: a data center policy that safeguards our resources, economy, and way of life. A temporary moratorium is not anti-progress. It is pro-Texas.

I already see that I have a ‘thing’ about blankets for my dogs. Lots and lots of blankets. And covers for my sofas. I need a place to fold them and store them off of the floor. The shelves I need to use are filled with boxes — lots of boxes of unknown contents. I don’t remember the last time I looked in these boxes. I wish I had marked what was in them. My goal is to go through the boxes on the shelf so I can put lots of lots of dog blankets there instead. The first box was filled with — boxes. Some were empty and some had items inside that I wouldn’t even remember how to use. I have a GPS watch from probably 15 years ago. I also found a camera that was still in the packaging — from probably 15 years ago. I can recycle the boxes and donate the filled boxes. Someone may get a treasure worth hundreds, or not.

I found weights for the weight vest I used to wear when I took walks. I can’t find the actual vest. And then there are cords — more cords. I just went through a big container of cords recently and now there are more. Seriously, can cords multiply in the dark? To hurry things along, I moved some boxes to the floor, with my dog blankets. I will continue Spring cleaning the shelves later, since it is still Spring.

Another person smiled and said “Interesting outfit but I couldn’t wear that.” I question what they are trying to tell me? I can’t determine by their eyes if they like me in this outfit or question my taste. Do I have an interesting eclectic style that is all my own and they couldn’t look as cool as me if they wore it? Or do I just look ridiculous and should put this outfit in a donation box for the appropriate person to wear? If I was a little more courageous, I would ask for clarification, but I am not.

And then there are the people who say “I have heard a lot about you.” They don’t finish that comment, so I am questioning what they could have heard about me? Was it something good? Or did they talk to the person who said that I looked healthy and got more details about what “healthy” meant? Did they hear about my outfit that probably no one in their right mind would wear in public? Or was this actually a compliment? I do want to think it is a compliment, but in the back of my mind, still question it.

I expect that when I finish this column, Siri or Google will start sending me ads for Confidence Building programs and Counseling services. I might check those out.

Mine believes that no flat surface should be left uncovered. There is always something to place on a clean flat surface. I have mail, newspapers, books, instruction manuals, and other important pile-ables. We also contend that if we put anything away that is on a flat surface, we will never find it again. Out of sight, out of mind. I might not know which flat surface a particular item is sitting on, but I know it hasn’t been put away. It may take me a few days to find what I need, but at least I have an idea of where it is — in a pile on a flat surface. Of course, after months of piling papers and other necessities on flat surfaces, they tend to fall to the ground. Then it is time to spend a few days sorting and filing. Unfortunately, I rarely look at the filed items again and often don’t remember what category I filled them under. And then I have a few more flat surfaces to cover. I don’t know how many people would join the Flat Surface Society or want anyone to know they belong to it. I am still considering joining, if there is such a group. I guess I could start my own. But first I need to decide if I should invest in a few more flat surfaces, a few more file drawers, or should I join a Clean Surface Society? I think I will just give Marketplace a quick look.

My dog gets a full body massage every night before bed.

I buy my cat every kind of canned food to try to find the one he will eat.

When I sing “Let Me Call You Sweetheart,” my dog happily rolls over for a belly rub. But when I sing “On The Road Again” she will head butt me. I don’t sing that any more.

My dog eats healthier food than I feed myself.

My dogs will not sleep on their blankets until the blankets are washed and “their” dog hair is removed.

My dog gets pretty haircuts and nails done more often than I ever do.

My dog has more beds than I have fingers, (and I have all of my fingers) yet she continues to sleep in my favorite spot on the sofa.

When asked how comfortable his new recliner was, one reader said he hadn’t tried it yet because the cat was using it. He would never ask the cat to move.

My cat tells us when she wants treats and if they aren’t the right ones, she keeps meowing and meowing until she gets the treat she wants. We sometimes have to go through four bags of treats to find the one she wants — today.

My dogs sleep in bed with me and I contour myself around them so they are comfortable.

My dogs get Christmas and Easter presents as well as seasonal snacks that are shaped accordingly.

If my dog is on my lap while I am watching TV, I won’t get up for any reason so I don’t disturb her. And sometimes I really need to get up.

My dogs watch me as I go to bed waiting for me to wish them all good night. It’s like living in the house with the Waltons. “Good night John-Boy, etc.”

Now, I’m not sure I believe in fairy godmothers, but if I do have one, she is either very new to the job (and didn’t read the fairy godmother manual) or is a comedian. Some of the responses to my self-talk make me question my fairy godmother or my sanity.

For example, when I ask myself why I just ate four of the six donuts I purchased for my family, a little voice says, “That is OK. Just go buy six more donuts and eat one. No one will ever know.” So, I did and now I am looking for the antacids. 

Or, the next morning, I start looking for my walking shoes and tell myself that I need to go for that mile walk around the neighborhood to get rid of some of those excess calories from the donut overload. The fairy godmother responded, in my head, that I will be happier to just forget the walking shoes, put on some elastic-waisted pants and sit down and finish another chapter in “June’s Journey.” Who am I to contradict my fairy godmother, but my antacid bottle is getting low.

What finally put me over the edge was when I wondered to myself if I should just trim my fly-away hair with my little manicure scissors before I head out the door to meet my blind date. I heard that little voice say, “Yes, do it.”  So I did it. Unfortunately my blind date was not blind.

I am going to ask my dear friend if she knows how I can put in a request for a new fairy godmother.

My Dad used to write us letters. He not only taped the envelopes closed but wrapped the whole envelope in cellophane tape as if it was ready to be placed in King Tut’s Tomb with Mr. Tut. It was almost impossible to open the envelopes. Sometimes I was lucky and found a minuscule place that he forgot to tape and could pry and slice the envelope open. By the way, there was no money included, which could be a good reason for the fastidious taping.

He did the same thing when wrapping gifts. A gift, the size of a shoe box, was probably wrapped in dozens of rolls of tape. Again, they never contained money, but it really was the thought that counted. I sometimes wondered what he thought of the gifts I gave him that only had a piece of tape on the two side flaps? He never complained. I hope he wasn’t disappointed. Did he privately wonder if I was really his daughter?

He would not have been disappointed with his other daughter, because she continued the family quirk. I received a large envelope in the mail from my dear sister. It was wrapped in cellophane tape, just like she learned from our Dad. After turning the envelope over and over, I finally found a small spot where I could slip my little finger in and try to tear it open. Cellophane tape does not tear open. I wrestled with the envelope and finally ripped it into long shreds and was able to fold the enclosed papers and squeeze it out of the largest tear I could make. Again, it included no money.

This Christmas, I will wrap my sister’s gift in yards of tape. If and when she gets it open, she will find a gift of boxes for cellphone tape and two shares of Scotch Tape stock. Our Dad would be proud.

If you have comments or stories to share, send them to itsnotjustmehumor@yahoo.com.

I didn’t want to toss out the box of accessories, so I put them all in a large plastic bag and labeled it “small vacuum.” I put that plastic bag in my laundry room with the other large plastic bags filled with accessories for everything from my larger vacuums (Don’t judge me because I have a two-story house so, two vacuums), my cordless cleaning brush and my not so portable steam cleaner.  

My shed is also stuffed with accessories for my various pieces of outdoor equipment and power tools. I do not understand why everything has to come with extra pieces. I imagine that they could be useful if one knew how to put them together, knew what they are used for, or could find the instruction manuals that might answer those questions. 

I don’t think I have ever used any accessories, but I store them anyway --- just in case. I know that my house would be less cluttered without those bags of useless plastic parts, but I hate to just throw them away. 

I am trying to decide the best approach to making these accessories useful. I could probably open one bag at a time next to their mother appliance and try to put them together. I can hardly write that without laughing. 

I noticed that a store on the square has a big transformer robot by its entrance. With just a little imagination and a lot of super glue, I could probably make my own transformer robot as yard art. It would certainly free up some shelves.

If you have comments or stories to share, send them to itsnotjustmehumor@yahoo.com.

I wish I knew how to use a facial app that makes me look better on a Zoom call. Surely, not everyone looks naturally better than me.

I wish I knew what size dress to purchase to an event happening in three months.

I wish I knew what is in an official-looking envelope before I waste time opening another advertisement to replace my windows.

I wish I knew what to make with the zucchini I purchased, before it goes bad—and where I put that zucchini recipe— which was the reason I purchased the zucchini.

I wish I knew how to read and follow the directions to put together a three-tiered shelf made in China. I wish I could read and understand Chinese.

I wish I knew which dog pooped on the floor. Why do they all look so innocent?

I wish I knew what kind of exciting gift I can get for a teenager that doesn’t cost my monthly salary. When I was young, a personalized pencil was exciting, but I don’t think that cuts it anymore.

I wish I knew when I was getting to the bottom of the pop-up tissue box before I have a series of non-stop drippy sneezes.

I wish I knew where my magnifying glass was so I can read the small print under the large print “Caution” on my medicine bottle.

I wish I knew how to remember the names of people I have met recently. I don’t understand why people don’t wear large-printed name tags.

If you have comments or stories to share, send them to itsnotjustmehumor@yahoo.com.

Not long after that first encounter, he drove by again, spotted me out front of our townhome, pulled over, spread maps and plans on the hood of his car, and spent another hour talking about plans to buy The Well and create a park that protected The Well area from development, and, hopefully, provide recreation for the community.

The most important thing, he said, was protection. The anecdotal evidence indicated The Well was starting to show greatly reduced flow rates. At that time no sensors were installed in The Well, but as each drought persisted for longer periods, combined with the Wimberley Valley growing in leaps and bounds, my occasional visitor and teacher saw the time to act was past and he and his association were playing catchup.

Twenty-three years later, I was standing in the crowd as Karl Flocke, Hays County Parks Director, gave a short speech to the crowd of environmental—and Jacob’s Well—enthusiasts, prior to the ribbon cutting that opened the Karst Canyon Trail. This entire area had been part of a proposed development of homes built on top of The Well, an alarming idea that didn’t get past the stage of drawings, which made this result all the more satisfying.

Jacob’s Well was long ago bought and donated to Hays County for perpetual protection, and right there in the crowd was David Baker, the man who had stopped so many times to share the vision his group—then, Wimberley Valley Watershed, now The Watershed Association—had started working toward a half dozen years before we met.

Dozens of years ago, standing in the West Texas landscape, a hydrologist pointed to the bare mountains in front of us and made the point: there is where the water falls and where it then drains to, and the more we alter that route the more we compound our own problems.

The hydrologist also made a point that came to mind that first conversation with David.

David and I were standing in front of the old facility that used to serve Woodcreek North with a restaurant, swimming pool, indoor handball court, all a 3-minute walk to The Well: There are two types of people, the hydrologist said, those who don’t know we have a water crisis and those who do. He advised: Be—and act like—one who knows.

I know of few places where water conservation—at least water consciousness—is as developed as it is in Wimberley. I credit David and the Watershed Association with the teaching, the unseen and untold hours of work, that created not just the Jacob’s Well Preserve and Karst Canyon, but the awareness we all have about just how fragile our resources are. I cannot express admiration enough for his and their work, now in the 30th year.

Thank you all, and very much thank you, David.

Clay Ewing

Wimberley Valley

When I was 21, a man punched me in the face. It was at the holiday party of the Forestry Club at the University of Montana. His name was Mike, and he had been flirting with me but also forceful. I told him I wasn’t interested and went back to chatting with my friend. A few minutes later, a fist came out of nowhere and knocked me to the ground.

I couldn’t let him hurt me like that without consequences, so after giving the other party attendees a heads up, I called the police. They came, interviewed me, and arrested Mike. He pled guilty to assault and did probation. I was satisfied.But the Forestry Club and that group of friends? Most of them began avoiding me, and I no longer felt welcome at their events. Over the next few months, I floated away from that community entirely. I didn’t realize I’d broken a secret, unspoken rule: Speaking up against a problem often gets you labeled the problem.

But we can’t live that way. People do bad things, and we must have the courage to talk about it. Cultures of silence and punishing those who speak up only protect bad actors, those who lie and who treat others with disrespect.

We’ve come a long way from college but not far enough. Recently, an odd game that Judge Ruben Becerra has been playing came to a head. He, in his eighth year in public office, decided to engage on water issues. He brought a proposal to the Commissioners Court on water and data centers that had not been posted publicly or had legal review. Unfortunately, his proposal came with unintended consequences–it would have allowed industrial water users to sidestep the county development process entirely. When the legal team, other commissioners, and I (through a letter to the Court) pointed this out, the judge tabled his own proposal.

Then the judge announced a water summit and pointedly said he expected attendance from every Hays County state legislator…except me. The omission stood out to many Hays County residents, because I have been working on water issues consistently and fighting to bring more resources to our groundwater districts. When constituents asked why I was left off, he lied and said I declined to attend. I corrected the record and said I was not invited. Then he publicly invited me, and I said my office would try to participate. My staff RSVPed via an email to both the judge and one of his staffers.

But when my staff and I showed up, we were told we weren’t on the list and that the venue was at capacity despite folks inside saying there were several empty seats. The judge’s story for why has continued to change. Sometimes he says my RSVP slipped through the cracks, and sometimes he defends excluding me, saying I’m an agitator because I dared to criticize his approach on water issues. I have no reason to believe my exclusion was anything but intentional.

This isn’t the first time something like this has happened with Judge Becerra. In 2020, when we were all scrambling to respond to the COVID-19 pandemic, the judge held conference calls for local leaders with briefings from the epidemiologist. I asked to be included to help bring needed state resources to the county. At first the judge acted like I was included but the information for the calls never arrived. When other elected officials sent me the call in information, he changed the call in time at the last minute. The judge implied in texts to me that I had nothing of value to offer and told me not to text him. When mayors and commissioners advocated for me, he yelled at them. He instructed county staff to not communicate with me.

I felt disrespected and angry, but it was a global pandemic, and the work was more important than one badly-behaved elected official. I pulled together medical experts and did virtual town halls for the community. The judge’s then chief of staff and I developed a backchannel about mask orders and federal relief money, which I believe he largely hid from the judge. I fought to get the state to bring the National Guard to Hays County for testing sites, going around the county to get the first week organized. I worked with mutual friends who still had a relationship with the judge to feed him information and ideas without my name attached.

I made myself smaller to make it work and to try (not entirely successfully) to avoid public disagreements between myself and the judge. But it was three times as much work for everyone to tiptoe around the judge’s utter refusal to work directly with me, and we accomplished less for the people of Hays County because of it.

When the judge exhibited such similar behavior last week, I wasn’t willing to make myself smaller anymore. Some of my fellow Democrats, even some of my friends, have criticized me for being divisive. But I can’t believe that calling out lies, gaslighting, and bullying is more divisive than the bad behavior itself.

This is the sad truth: Judge Becerra’s bullying and dishonest behavior has been an open secret in Hays County for years. You’re either with him or against him, and he publicly attacks those whom he considers to have opposed him. County staff and contractors report fear of retribution if they speak out. Local nonprofits, elected officials, business owners, and even many within the Hays Democratic Party have the same fear.

Just because someone is theoretically on the same side of an issue or in the same political party doesn’t mean we should accept bad behavior. Bullying and lying make true unity and collaborative work impossible in a time when we need everyone’s talent and time at the table. We must break the culture of silence, of using the idea of “everyone getting along” as a shield from accountability. I hope that my speaking out gives others the courage to do the same.

I picked out some plants that are easy to grow, like tomatoes, green beans and green peppers. I also stretched my abilities by purchasing flowers, flower seeds and some herb seeds so the butterflies and bees will visit. I remembered reading about a kindred spirit who bought plants every year at the same garden center. The sales person asked her if they should kill them there, or will she wait until she got home. I laughingly mentioned that to the cashier as she rang up my plants. She knows me well enough not to comment. She pursed her lips into half a smile. I told her that this year will be different. These plants will enjoy living with me and I may even bring her some of my excess vegetables.

In order to better ensure the health of my plants, I also purchased a plastic green house to give them a perfect place to start out and to protect them from the critters that seem to like my young veggies before they get a chance to develop. Not this year!

When I got home, I transplanted them into larger pots, added plant food and showered them with water. The weather was perfect. Every day, I took care of them and watched the seeds begin to sprout and the small plants start to show new shoots. For three days, the plants and I were happy. When I woke up on day four, I found that the temperature had gone down to 28 degrees overnight. It seems that a plastic green house doesn’t protect from freezes. I sadly lost a few flowers and vegetables that weren’t hardy enough to live with me. I am not giving up. I just hope that when I go back to purchase more plants, there will be a different cashier.

President of Texas Local Media

“Welcome to Texas.”

That was how the gentleman on the other end of the phone greeted me.

For a moment I tried to place the voice. My day had already been full of calls. Some folks offered congratulations. Others were gentle but direct, reminding me of the long history and significance of the newspapers that had just changed hands.

This caller was another publisher. Someone who understood exactly what had just happened.

Times Media Group – the company I started in 1997 as a single 5,000-circulation newspaper – had just acquired Texas Local Media (also known as Moser Community Media) and its 32 community newspapers. In our business, news like that travels fast.

While operating newspapers in the great state of Texas represents new ground for me, becoming the owner and steward of historic community publications is not. I’ve spent the better part of my career doing exactly that. And over the years I’ve learned something that tends to surprise most people.

Running a successful community newspaper is not nearly as complicated as some make it out to be.

At its core, it simply requires a deep understanding of one thing and a firm belief in another. The understanding is that communities will always need reliable local news and information. The belief is that trusted local sources will only become more important as the world becomes louder, faster and more confusing.

Technology changes. Methods of delivery change. Printing presses turn into websites, mobile editions and social media feeds. But the reason community newspapers exist remains the same.

People want to know what is happening where they live.

They want to know which issues matter, what decisions are being made, which teams won, which businesses have opened, and which neighbors deserve recognition. Most importantly, they want that information to come from a source they know and trust.

In many ways, the job simply comes down to showing up, paying attention and caring about the place you are writing for. From what I’ve learned about the team here at Texas Local Media, I’m confident we have plenty of that.

I’ve also learned that every community newspaper, whether in Texas, Arizona, Colorado or California, shares something in common. The names of the streets change. The high school mascots change. The barbecue gets way, way better. But the heartbeat of each community newspaper remains the same, and it belongs to the people and the community it serves.

Something you may notice about our coverage over time is that the news and information produced by these publications will become more visible and accessible. We believe strongly in making local journalism available to as many people as possible. Whenever practical, we try to democratize the news by making it available free of charge.

Readers can still choose to have the newspaper delivered directly to their door for the modest cost of a subscription. Many still enjoy that ritual and we intend to continue providing that service. Others prefer their news digitally, which is why you will also find our publications arriving in email inboxes and appearing more frequently online.

This approach has not always been the Texas Local Media way. It is now.

Our goal is simple: we want the journalism produced here to reach more people in the communities it serves, not fewer.

Because at the end of the day, these publications are about something bigger than headlines and pages. They are about bringing communities together. A good community newspaper helps neighbors understand one another, celebrate one another and even disagree in productive ways.

When that happens, communities become stronger. And strong communities are very hard to tear apart.

We are proud to continue the work of strengthening communities here in Texas.

From where I sit, there is no more important job in journalism. And we intend to do it every day and do it well. If we succeed, we will exceed the standards of these fine newspapers and keep the promise we’ve made to you and your community – to tell your stories fairly, accurately and without bias.

Why do nonprofits who are wanting donations, send an envelope with pre-paid postage, yet our insurance or electric bills comes with envelopes that need stamps? Who needs the money more?

Why is there 24-hour non-drowsy allergy medicine? Is it to prove they can keep us sniffle free for that long? Is this why I often have trouble sleeping?

Why don’t all videos or photos have to show if they are AI generated? Now I am embarrassed that I told my friends and family about the dinosaur family that scientists have made from their DNA. And they could use donations to help feed them. I like animals so I almost sent a donation until my young grandson told me this was all fake and AI generated. Well, this didn’t actually happen, but it could have.

Why don’t they sell socks and earrings in sets of three? They know we will probably lose one. But I guess that would take away from their profit since we wouldn’t need to buy another pair as often. To make me feel better and not waste my singles, I stuff my individual socks into a larger individual sock for all of the neighborhood dogs. And I can give my single earring to someone with only one pierced ear.

Why can’t you actually see when a pen is about to run out of ink? Even though most have see-through tubes, they always look like they are full. I now bring two or three pens with me so something will possibly have ink left in it. It is a bit embarrassing to start writing an address and the black ink stops working, so you have to switch to red, and possible blue if the red quits. I guess I need to just buy black ink pens.

When we came here, we were looking for something different: a genuine small-town community that is quieter, more varied and more personal. We appreciate the narrow asphalt streets and the diversity in the size, style and value of the homes—and in the people who live in them. We even smile at the sight of a large tree preserved right in the middle of the street, protected rather than removed. That character is part of what drew us here.

This is what we value and what we hope to preserve. A community like ours, which grew naturally and a bit haphazardly over time, cannot simply be remade into one of the large, carefully planned developments many of us chose to leave behind.We have already had the asphalt of one of our major streets replaced with concrete (and it looks out of place), there has been talk of adding sidewalks where there is simply not room for them and, now, someone is wanting to add a bright, digital sign at one of the entrances of our “dark skies” community? I’m hearing a community that is saying, “no thanks!”

I have a few pair of slacks that act as magnets to dog hair. Somehow, I can brush them clean before leaving the house, yet by the time I get to the car, it looks like I'm wearing fur pants. I hope there are no PETA folks around because I don’t know if they would believe me if I tell them that no animal was harmed in the making of my fur pants.

For this reason, I have switched to wearing gray sweat pants. Either these pants don’t attract dog hair or I can’t see it. Either way, it works for me.

Besides matching every top I own, I can dress grey pants up or down, depending on the outing. A fancy top, pretty scarf or giant necklace gives them the look of luxury, at least that is what I tell myself.

If you see me at a fancy party, just know that I’m wearing my best-looking grey sweatpants to be there. And be thankful that I left my furry black pants at home.

Dear Hill Country Neighbors,

We need to have an honest conversation.

The Texas Hill Country — our rivers, our ranches, our dark skies, our wildlife, our way of life — is under pressure like never before. Growth is coming faster than our land and water can handle. Developments are approved before infrastructure is ready. Aquifers are strained. Rural roads are overwhelmed. Native habitat is scraped away. And once it’s gone — it’s gone forever.

This isn’t about being anti-growth. It’s about being pro-Hill Country.

There are many environmental as well as local Conservation Authorities that have long warned that the region is one of the fastest-growing areas in the nation. Groundwater Conservation Districts continue to sound alarms about water availability. Farmers and ranchers — the original conservationists — are watching generational land get divided and sold because the economics of stewardship are getting harder.

We cannot sit quietly while the very thing that makes this place special is exploited for short-term gain.

This moment requires leadership at every level:

Politicians must prioritize water policy reform, regional planning, and responsible infrastructure before approving unchecked expansion.

Environmental organizations must keep educating, organizing, and pushing for science-based protections.

Farmers and ranchers need tools, tax protections, and incentives that make conservation economically viable.

Counties and Municipalities must demand the right to protect their citizens!

And yes — artists, business leaders, and even celebrities who love this place must use their voices to amplify what’s happening here.

Every platform MUST be used and used before it’s too late!

This is not a partisan issue. Clean water is not political. Protecting private property rights while also protecting shared natural resources is not political. Ensuring our grandchildren can swim in clear rivers and see the Milky Way at night is not political.

It is stewardship.

Here in Blanco, we fight hard to protect the Blanco River — one of the few rivers in Texas still considered pristine. We talk openly about water supply, wastewater standards, dark skies, and responsible development because we know once we make a mistake with water, there is no undo button.

The Hill Country does not belong to developers.

It does not belong to special interests.

It does not belong to any one generation.

It belongs to the future.

If we do not raise our voices now — together — we will wake up one day and realize we protected nothing.

Call your legislators. Support conservation groups. Attend county meetings. Ask hard questions about water. Support local agriculture. Elect leaders who value long-term stewardship over short-term profit.

This is our home.

This is our heritage.

This is our responsibility.

For the very soul of the Texas Hill Country —

Let’s protect what cannot be replaced.

With determination,

Candy Cargill

Mayor, Blanco, Texas

Now I have two obsessions that luckily don’t include food. I had been looking for an antique letter opener, thinking it would be fun to use one while looking great on my desk. I bid on a few, but lost. And now I realize it was a good thing. I read that things often happen exactly when you need them to.

I happened upon a battery-powered letter opener, at midnight, on Amazon. It had great reviews and it was inexpensive so I ordered one. I am now obsessed with opening all of my mail, including the junk mail, with my new gadget. I loved this gadget so much, that I ordered some for Christmas gifts. Although some of the recipients loved it, others were less than excited over their strange gift. If you’re interested, I will let you know when they will hold their next garage sale.

My other obsession is a rebounder. When I was younger, they called them mini trampolines. Why I thought I needed a piece of exercise equipment, purchased at midnight, I might add, is beyond my understanding. When it arrived, I had second thoughts and packed it back up. My daughter said I should re-think returning it because people love them. Several YouTube videos showed me people happily bouncing away on their rebounders.

So, I kept it. Now I am totally obsessed and love bouncing to the oldies. It reminds me a bit of of my pogo stick from years ago. I am also losing a bit of weight. I just hope I don’t obsess about carrot cake again.

If you have comments or stories to share, send them to itsnotjustmehumor@yahoo.com.

I first met him as a small customer needing house plans for a small addition here at my home.

This chance meeting led me find Charles was soon to seek election to the Wimberley City Council. He was versed enough to recall my previous effort to get elected to the City Council in ’05. I was modestly flattered that he would even ask my advice, what I might offer to help his chances of becoming elected. Best I could discern, he “feigned” no memory of what a train wreck he was asking about. I gave it about a 5 second pause before answering.

“Just don’t do anything I did, and best of all, don’t mention my name.”

Then he might just have a decent shot at winning. Charles prevailed and won pretty big his election to City Council.

Our friendship grew and soon he shared a question. Was I ever going to seek election again? I don’t to this day know if he was just bored or being kind in posing this question, but I responded, “Yes!”

I had thought about it, and I knew my friend Bob Flocke was going to run for Mayor. That would leave Council Place 2 vacant for election.

With Bob dragging me behind him every step of the way, I skated in with a massive voter mandate. Winning by two Yup! Two votes!. In that era, and even now, you just do not ever want a narrow two-vote margin of victory. Every voter owns you and is really quick to tell you so. You are there because of their vote.

A few days passed, all sworn in and seated in Place order from the Mayors position right to left starting with Place 1, then 2 then the Mayor and rounding out in numerical order 3, 4 and 5 to the Mayor’s left. I already was keen to be seated next to Charles. He always knew the material and the logical questions to ask at the right times. Soon the answers were so clear to me, JUST VOTE like Charles does. This soon became obvious to the Mayor that I was “drafting” off Charles, more like a clone really. The Mayor liked verbal Roll Call voting and always started rolling up from Place 1 ending with Place 5. One night, the Mayor I guess decided enough was enough, and flipped the roll call vote starting with John White in place 5 rolling down ending with Place 1 my pal Charles. Before this shift, if I had a procedural question or needed a point of question/explanation I would gently nudge Bob and quietly ask my question. I always suspected Bob was ‘carrying’ or packing. I think it’s called “carrying” now days. This night I didn’t nudge Bob as typical, I elbowed the crap out of him all over his right rib cage. That didn’t work well at all. Best I recall, I fractured my elbow. I’m real sure Bob was carrying something at least the size of whatever it was Clint Eastwood used in “DIRTY HARRY.” I forget what it was, but it was big and heavy. I’m surprised the thing just didn’t discharge itself. All the while, I’m sitting in my chair, elbow writhing in pain, my pal in Place 1 leans in and speaks softly. Guess you didn’t know he was carrying that big thing, HUH? I muttered, “No, Charles. I didn’t. Not really.”

As he carefully patted his own breast pocket and said, ‘Don’t worry we’re covered.” The irony in this circus was I had a very good rapport with Place 5 John White, so no way was I likely to get caught just flat footed.

My respect for Charles only grew higher. He was a joy and a wizard at ciphering though the BS and false items we were so often presented with and most often just cut to the chase or the significant, salient point and we moved on.

These same traits were the same when I attended any Wimberley Water Supply Corp meeting where Charles was a Director.

Whatever Charles became involved in-work, politics or hobby-he gave it his best and was all in 100%.

Charles set a high standard and ascribed to it wholeheartedly. I liked and respected him. He was a joy to work with.

Mac McCullough

The family of squirrels who hang out in my front yard seems to have grown quite a bit. I think my local squirrels have contacted distant relatives and told them that their human is putting out a smorgasbord of yummy seeds every day. I hear them laugh when they see me put out, yet another “squirrel-proof” bird feeder.

In fact, I believe that the companies who make those expensive feeders also have a “Feed all Squirrels” non-profit, and the extra cost of those feeders help fund it. The more I spend on squirrel-proof bird feeders, the happier the squirrels are. I have tried the expensive “squirrel-proof” bird seed with jalapeño or something spicy in it. It worked for less than a month before the squirrels knew how to pick and choose through the seeds to get what they want. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t mind feeding the squirrels, but I don’t appreciate them eating most of the birdseed before the birds are even awake. There is nothing more peaceful than watching a variety of birds delicately picking up seeds and sharing the feeders with each other. And then, here comes the squirrels.

As I noted, my squirrels are very smart and adaptable. It doesn’t take new families of squirrels taking residence near my yard to learn how to take over my bird feeders. That means there must be a squirrel school nearby. Somehow, I need to find it and try to learn what they are teaching. Would they let me be a guest speaker so I can tell them that if I put a designated squirrel feeder in my yard, would they be willing to agree that the bird feeders are off-limits? I wonder if anyone makes squirrel food so tasty that they don’t ever want to eat bird seed again.

I’ll check on Amazon.

If you have comments or stories to share, send them to itsnotjustmehumor@yahoo.com.

As I felt my way out of the doctor’s office, I realized that I couldn’t drive very far. Luckily, there was a big box store nearby. Blindly, I collected a few items before coming to the toilet paper aisle. Anticipating a drawn out ice storm, the store had stocked a mountain of toilet paper. By standing close, I could see large red print, usually indicting a sales item. I picked up the package, loaded everything in my car and cautiously drove home.

After waiting for my eyes to clear, I unloaded the car and was shocked to see I’d bought a package of 45 toilet paper rolls. I have a small family and a small house and unless I could cover that package with a table cloth and use it as a side table, I had nowhere to store it.

Once the storm landed and the streets turned icy, I became the most popular person in my neighborhood.

Sometimes I am so upset about a situation that bad words come out of my mouth instead of just thinking them. My dog listens and doesn’t judge me, especially if I give him a treat afterwards.

If I am watching a sports event and get a little too rowdy, I quickly apologize and explain that I wasn’t upset with him. He understands and calmly goes back to sleep against my body.

I don’t have to explain to my dog why I am wearing the same outfit three days in a row. He is still proud to take a walk with me.

A friend told me that, although they don’t like to play favorites, my dog is one of the special ones. I was just telling him the same thing this morning.

My dog and I are both nervous during a bad storm. When we cuddle together, we are both calmer. My dog is a good cuddler.

My dog’s silly antics make me laugh harder than most humans can. He seems to understand and will continue his craziness until we are both out of breath.

I sometimes ask my dog for advice and his look tells me that I already know the answer. And he is usually right.

My dog has seen me at my worst yet still comes to me with tail wagging and no side eye look at my mismatched clothes, hair in disarray or spotty shirt.

I believe that my dogs instinctively knows good people from not so good people, even if they are on TV. I support his judgment. I think that, at times, his gut works better than mine.

No one knows me as well as my dog.

If you have comments or stories to share, send them to itsnotjustmehumor@yahoo.com.

Sometimes I am so upset about a situation that bad words come out of my mouth instead of just thinking them. My dog listens and doesn’t judge me, especially if I give him a treat afterwards.

If I am watching a sports event and get a little too rowdy, I quickly apologize and explain that I wasn’t upset with him. He understands and calmly goes back to sleep against my body.

I don’t have to explain to my dog why I am wearing the same outfit three days in a row. He is still proud to take a walk with me.

A friend told me that, although they don’t like to play favorites, my dog is one of the special ones. I was just telling him the same thing this morning.

My dog and I are both nervous during a bad storm. When we cuddle together, we are both calmer. My dog is a good cuddler.

My dog’s silly antics make me laugh harder than most humans can. He seems to understand and will continue his craziness until we are both out of breath.

I sometimes ask my dog for advice and his look tells me that I already know the answer. And he is usually right.

My dog has seen me at my worst yet still comes to me with tail wagging and no side eye look at my mismatched clothes, hair in disarray or spotty shirt.

I believe that my dogs instinctively knows good people from not so good people, even if they are on TV. I support his judgment. I think that, at times, his gut works better than mine.

No one knows me as well as my dog.

If you have comments or stories to share, send them to itsnotjustmehumor@yahoo.com.

Somewhere in the past, I must have gone through a short-lived period of organization because a few of the cords were labeled. One was to an old portable CD player that I haven’t seen in years, and one said it was to be attached to an iPod.

The other cords were snaked together like a city in hibernation. I gathered the few electronics I could find and started matching the cords to them. The clump of USB cords proved to be different sizes, and none fit my mini battery banks. The cords I’d saved for my phones, while looking perfect, wouldn’t charge. While I hated to toss any cord that looked like it should work, I did send a few to the grave.

So now, I’m on the hunt for those old electronics, cameras, DVD players and iPods, wherever they are, to match up with the rest of the cords. Why don’t cord companies standardize their cords? Your guess is as good as mine. But since they don’t seem to be willing to do that, I’m buying stock in cord companies.

In the “Where in the World is the Water?” station, we model for the students, showing them first a water molecule model and a globe, as a model of our earth. Our first question is, “How much of the earth’s surface is covered by water?” The students generally know that the answer is just a bit more that 70 percent. Then we use a circle graph to explain that 97 percent of that wonderful water is salt water, unavailable for use by humans and other terrestrial life forms.

Next the students get a chance to do the modeling. Using a graduated cylinder, a pipette and a plastic cup, the fifth graders end up with only 3 milliliters of water in their cup representing all the fresh water available for our use. Now the bad news comes. About 2 percent of that water is locked up in glaciers and icebergs. It’s our turn to ask questions. There were plenty of answers to, “What can we do about having only this small amount of available water?” In each class we saw evidence of what they learned in the classroom and at home. Some of the answers were, “don’t leave the water running when you brush your teeth,” “pour extra water from your water bottle on a plant,” “run the dishwasher only when it’s full,” and so on.

This year one of our volunteers suggested a new question. What if we asked the kids, “How does it feel when you see that one milliliter of water and know it represents all the water available to us. In each class there was one child who was not bothered by this dilemma, saying, “there is enough water for us now.” My favorite answer came from the young man who answered with just one word, “Terrified.” Perhaps we should all consider that question.

Read a Road Map Day - Apr 5

I guess I will need to pre-plan this because I will need to find one of my old road maps. I will definitely read it, but may not follow it anywhere.

Lost Sock Memorial Day - May 9

I have plenty of single socks that I could use to set up a large memorial. It would be colorful enough to place on my front window sill for my neighbors to appreciate.

Talk Like Yoda Day - May 21

I will need to practice this but how fun would it be to talk like Yoda when you go to the bank or a restaurant. Even better would be to do it with unwelcome sales callers.

Put a Pillow in Your Fridge Day - May 29

I am not sure who thought this one up, but they probably live in the south. I will need to clean out my refrigerated expired food products before May 29th.

National Donut Day - June 5

I do seem to like these national food days. This is another one I might need to practice ahead of time.

World Juggling Day - Jun 20

I hope there are YouTube videos on how to Juggle because I would love to participate on this day. I took lessons years ago (yes, along with my tap dancing lessons, but that is for another day), and I need a refresher.

Typewriter Day - Jun 23

Anyone who knows me, knows that I look forward to this day all year. My friends who have to listen to me talk about typewriters, not so much.

Embrace Your Geekness Day - Jul 13

We all have a Geek side that we may not show others. This is the day to show your geekness with pride. I will probably only do it with strangers, because I don’t want to lose any more friends.

Emma Nutt Day - Sept 1

I’ll admit I had to look this one up. She was the first female telephone operator. Talk like a telephone operator every time you use your phone today.

I loved camp. Camp was sublime. I was growing up, building a little independence away from home with my friend Kathy as my camp buddy. We had both been born in the Rio Gand Valley in McAllen, Texas, and our mothers had been good friends; and so here we were.

While I started camp as this weird little ‘tween, I blossomed there. My Mom knew it had the power to allow me to grow. I tolerated riding, shunned rifle shooting, but it was in the river that I excelled. I aspired to be part of the prestigious Canoe Club, and I got in!

In school the year before I had been taunted and teased by my classmates. I was new, returning to Texas from Colorado, and therefore weird and an outsider. I didn’t even know what a 7-Eleven Slurpee was! I thought everyone’s drawl was a big joke. But at camp, I was around all these new girls similarly displaced and so we bonded – with our cabin-mates and our counselor. I had friends!

It was July 21, 1969. Little did we know that a remarkable thing was happening on the moon that night. I guess we went to sleep first? I honestly can’t be sure, but I will never forget what happened next. We were asked to bring our blankets to the lawn in front of the main lodge. There, we settled down and made one huge camp-wide pallet while the director of the camp turned on a small black and white TV. I thought: ‘This is cool, outside under the stars and we were going to watch TV!’ Along with everyone at camp and a majority of humans on Earth, the next thing we saw, on live TV was Neil Armstrong climb down ladder, and make the remarkable statement, “That’s one small step for man, one giant leap for Mankind.”

Me, all by myself, without my own family, but with this family of campers, beside this beautiful river I had come to love – we saw an astronaut walk on the moon! In thinking about this years later, what really resonates with me is this statement on a plaque that the astronauts left on the moon: “ Here men from the planet Earth first set foot upon the moon, July 1969 A.D. We came in peace for all mankind.”

Just for a moment, the vast majority of Americans, and hundreds of millions of other people on planet Earth, were united.

After the July 4, 2025 flood in the Texas Hill Country, you could say that Mankind has shown up for good once again – all kinds of people came forward to help ease the suffering of that tragedy.

In 1969, on the shores of the serene Guadalupe River, under a Texas sky full of stars, I was blessed with an experience and a truth that I wouldn’t fully realize until more than fifty years later. “We Came in Peace for All Mankind.” That night, in 1969, for many of us, it was the first time, but thankfully not the last time, that Mankind has felt real.

(Elizabeth Buckley is a Peabody and Gracie Award–winning filmmaker, known for PBS’s ‘Wishbone’. Her documentary film ‘The Stars at Night’, first workshopped at Wimberley StoryFest, has screened worldwide. She teaches film at Texas State University. Find out more at thestarsatnight.org and environmentalartsalliance. org; bbcreative@me.com)

The seat is now held by U.S. Sen. John Cornyn, who faces two major opponents in the GOP primary: Texas Attorney General Ken Paxton and U.S. Rep. Wesley Hunt of Houston. Cornyn is seeking his fifth term.

The Georgetown debate is sponsored by the Texas AFLCIO. Crockett is stressing her standing as the race’s progressive and hopes to inspire left-leaning voters to turn out in November if she wins the nomination. Talarico is emphasizing electability, noting he flipped a Republican district to get elected state representative and saying Democrats need a nominee able to compete statewide.

Early voting in the March 3 Democratic primary begins Feb. 17.

White drops bid to take on Abbott

Andrew White has dropped his bid for the Democratic nomination for governor and has thrown his support behind state Rep. Gina Hinojosa, D-Austin, who is widely seen as the frontrunner, according to the Houston Chronicle. The crowded Democratic primary has 10 candidates vying to take on Gov. Greg Abbott, who is seeking an unprecedented fourth term.

Abbott has $90 million in his campaign war chest and faces only token opposition his party’s primary.

Besides Hinojosa, who has served in the Legislature since 2017, the primary field also includes Chris Bell, a former Houston congressman and gubernatorial nominee, and Bobby Cole, a rancher and retired firefighter. White is the son of former Gov. Mark White. He ran for governor in 2018, coming up six percentage points short in his Democratic primary race against former Dallas County Sheriff Lupe Valdez. She lost handily to Abbott that year in the general election.

500 miles of buoys to be added to Rio Grande

In a move to increase border security, the U.S. Department of Homeland Security plans to add floating buoys along more than 500 miles of the Rio Grande, The Texas Tribune reported. Secretary Kristi Noem announced the deployment last week while visiting Rio Grande Valley.

The state of Texas deployed 1,000 feet of the water barrier along the Rio Grande near Eagle Pass in 2023 and added another 1,000 feet in January 2025.

“Texas finally has a partner in the White House,” Andrew Mahaleris, press secretary for Abbott, said in a statement Wednesday. “The floating marine barriers deployed by Texas have been a resounding success, and Gov. Abbott is proud to work with the Trump Administration and Border Patrol to expand the program.”

Under the Biden administration, the federal government sued Texas over the buoys, citing migrant safety and saying that they violated water treaties between U.S. and Mexico. That case is still before the courts.

“They’ll create a safer environment for agents on patrol, and securing our waterways not only protects Americans, it saves the lives of illegal aliens by deterring them from daring to attempt to cross through this treacherous water,” Noem said.

Texas flu levels ‘very high’ with new strain

Flu activity in Texas has reached a “very high” level, according to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention. The Austin American-Statesman reported that in the last week of December, the state recorded 25,000 flu-related emergency room visits, with children ages 5 to 11 accounting for more than a quarter of all ER visits statewide.

“It’s been really, really startling,” said Dr. Jeff Shilt, president of Texas Children’s Hospital in Austin. “What’s most startling to us is the number and the severity.”

The surge is fueled by a rapidly spreading H3N2 subtype of influenza A. Although the flu vaccine has been less effective against this strain, doctors emphasize that vaccination still helps protect against severe illness.

Other respiratory illnesses, such as COVID19 and RSV, remain at low levels in Texas, according to the CDC.

Teachers’ union sues TEA over Kirk probes

One of the state’s leading teachers unions has sued the Texas Education Agency in an effort to block investigations into public educators who commented negatively about conservative activist Charlie Kirk after his assassination, the Chronicle reported. The lawsuit said the probe has “unleashed a wave of retaliation and disciplinary actions against teachers” by their local school districts.

TEA launched the inquiry last fall and has yet to issue any disciplinary action. AFT represents about 66,000 educators in Texas. The agency said in December that it received more than 350 complaints from the public, of which 95 are “open and undergoing further investigation and review.” The remainder have been dismissed. TEA Commissioner Mike Morath warned soon after Kirk’s death that educators who posted or shared “vile content” would be investigated for possibly violating the educator’s code of ethics.

At a press conference last week, Randi Weingarten, the president of AFT, called the TEA investigations a “statesponsored attack on teachers.” She noted only Texas and Florida launched probes of this type.

“Mr. Morath decided to exploit the strategy of Mr. Kirk’s senseless murder,” Weingarten said. “His actions were a transparent effort to smear and shame educators, divide our communities and deny our kids opportunities to learn and thrive.”

New World screwworm case reported in Tamaulipas

A new case of New World screwworm was identified in December in a six-dayold calf in the Mexican state of Tamaulipas, less than 200 miles from the border. The Texas Standard reported this is the northernmost active detection of the flesheating larval parasite.

“The continued detections of New World Screwworm near the Texas border are grim reminders of the serious threat this pest poses to our state,” Texas Agriculture Commissioner Sid Miller said in a statement.

The U.S. Department of Agriculture has developed a fivepoint plan to address the issue, including building a sterile fly production facility in Edinburg. The parasite was eliminated from the United States decades ago through similar efforts.

“This proven strategy is key to the longterm eradication of New World Screwworm,” Miller said.

Gary Borders is a veteran award-winning Texas journalist. He published a number of community newspapers in Texas during a 30yearspan,including in Longview, Fort Stockton, Nacogdoches, Lufkin and Cedar Park. Email: gborders@texaspress. com.

So how do we keep our community looking beautiful in such arid, desert-like conditions? Enter “xeriscaping.” In Greek, the term means “dry scaping.” At its root, xeriscaping is a landscaping method that aims to use as little water as possible while still maintaining aesthetically pleasing and ecofriendly landscaping.

Key Principles and Practices include: - Plant Selection: Focus on native and adapted plants that thrive in dry conditions, such as Agave, Red Yucca, Texas Sage, Lantana, Desert Willow, andTexas Frog Fruit.

- Watering Wisely: Group plants with similar water needs using the practice of hydro zoning and use drip irrigation or soaker hoses to deliver water directly to roots. Water deeply and infrequently, especially after establishment, and aim for early morning watering.

- Mulch: Apply two to four inches of organic mulch, like compost or shredded bark, to retain soil moisture, moderate temperatures and to control weeds.

- Reduce Turf: Replace water-hungry grass with rock gardens, patios, native ground covers, like Texas Frog Fruit, or other low-water features.

- Soil Improvement: Amend native soil with compost to help plants establish strong root systems but avoid creating a “bathtub” effect with overly rich soil pockets.

- Design Zones: Map your yard for sun, shade and water flow, placing thirsty plants in moister areas and drought-tolerant ones in hot, dry spots.

To learn about xeriscaping in Texas, focus on resources from Texas A&M AgriLife Extension for comprehensive guides and local events and the Native Plant Society of Texas for native plant expertise.