Gaggle of Garland Readers

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Gaggle of Garland Readers A group that enjoys reading, each other's company, good food and some wine!

09/20/2026

Chris Nagel and David Steele, Tee Lake residents, met with Erick Elgin, a lake biologist from MSU, and toured the lake for three hours on Saturday, looking for invasive plant species, discussing the lake's biodiversity, and how to be responsible stewards of the lake. Erick was impressed by the lake's health, the lack of invasive plants, and its high biodiversity. An indicator of high biodiversity were the kingfishers around the lake, who have a low tolerance for over-development. He felt the best thing we can do for the lake in the long term is to increase the amount of native plant lake shore buffer zones at our homes, which is already high, and reduce the amount of lawn fertilizer near the lake. The photo is of Erick with a native white water lily, a.k.a. PacMan.

08/09/2026
06/30/2026
03/06/2026

She sold everything so her sons could graduate. Twenty years later, they arrived wearing pilot uniforms and took her somewhere she had never imagined. Judith Parker was 56 years old and a widow. Her only children were Logan and Dylan. They lived in a humble neighborhood on the outskirts of Asheville, North Carolina. The house was small, with unfinished walls and a sheet-metal roof, built through years of effort alongside her husband, who had worked as a construction laborer. One day, everything changed. Her husband d/ie/d in a workplace accident when a structure c0llapsed at the site where he was working. There was no fair compensation. No swift justice. Only silence. And debts. From that moment on, Judith became both mother and father. They had no business. No savings. Only that modest home and a small plot of land inherited from her husband’s family. Every sunrise reminded her of her loneliness. But also of her mission. To give her sons a future. And there was one thing she never allowed to fade. Logan and Dylan’s dream. Every day at four in the morning, Judith woke to prepare tamales, atole, and sweet bread, which she sold at the neighborhood market. The steam from the atole fogged her glasses. The heat from the griddle burned her hands. But she never complained. “Fresh coffee and hot breakfast.” she would call out warmly between the stalls. Some days she returned with sw0llen feet. Some days without having eaten. But she always brought something home so her sons could eat before school. At night, when the electricity was cut off for lack of payment, Logan and Dylan did their homework by candlelight. One of those nights, Logan spoke. “Mom. I want to be a pilot.” Judith paused. Pilot. A big word. An expensive word. A distant word. “A pilot, son?” she asked gently. “Yes. I want to fly big planes. Like the ones at North Carolina’s airport.” Judith smiled, though fear stirred inside her. “Then you will fly. I will help you.” She knew aviation school was costly. When both boys finished high school and were accepted into an aviation academy, Judith made the hardest decision of her life. She sold the house. She sold the land. She sold the last material memory of her husband. “Where will we live?” Dylan asked. She took a deep breath. “Anywhere. As long as you study.” They moved into a small rented room near the market. The roof leaked when it rained. They shared a bathroom with other families. Judith washed other people’s clothes, cleaned houses in wealthier neighborhoods, continued selling tamales, and sometimes sewed school uniforms. Her hands cracked. Her back ached every night. But she never allowed her sons to quit. Logan graduated first. Dylan soon after. Yet becoming commercial pilots required flight hours, certifications, and experience. Opportunity came. But far away. Both found work abroad to build their careers. Before departing from North Carolina’s airport, they embraced their mother. “We’ll come back,” Logan said. “When we achieve our dream, you will be the first to fly with us,” Dylan promised. Judith hugged them tightly. “Just take care of yourselves.” Then came the waiting. Twenty years of occasional calls. Of voice messages. Of video chats she learned to use with a neighbor’s help. Twenty years of birthdays spent alone. Whenever she heard an airplane overhead, she stepped outside and looked up. “Maybe that one is my son…” Her hair turned white. Her steps slower. But her hope never faded. One ordinary morning, while sweeping the entrance of her modest home, someone knocked. She expected a neighbor. When she opened the door, she froze. Two tall men stood before her. Uniformed. Insignias shining. “Mom…” one whispered. It was Logan. Beside him, Dylan. Wearing pilot uniforms. Holding flowers. Tears in their eyes. Judith covered her mouth. “Is it really you?” They embraced as if time had never passed. “We’re home, Mom,” Dylan said. And this time, it was not a promise. The next day, they took her to international airport. Judith walked slowly, eyes wide with wonder. “Am I really going to board?” “Not just board,” Logan smiled. “Today you are our guest of honor.” Inside the aircraft, before takeoff, Logan spoke over the intercom. “Ladies and gentlemen, today we have on board the woman who made this moment possible. Our mother sold everything she had so we could study aviation. This flight is dedicated to her.” Silence filled the cabin. Dylan continued. “The bravest woman we know is not famous or wealthy. She is a mother who believed in us when we had nothing.” Passengers began to applaud. Some were crying. Judith trembled with emotion as the plane lifted from the ground. When the wheels left the runway, she closed her eyes. “I’m flying…” But that flight was not the true destination her sons had prepared. What awaited her after landing would change her life forever.⬇️⬇️⬇️

02/25/2026

Plan your trip!

01/23/2026

Boone NC officials have confirmed that 62 members of the Pennsylvania Amish community have completed the construction of 12 tiny homes in Western North Carolina in under 48 hours.
The total cost of the project for was over $300,000, all of which was donated by the Amish community. Reported on X, aka Twitter.

Just in case you were wondering?
01/23/2026

Just in case you were wondering?

In a speech at the World Economic Forum in Davos, Switzerland, on Wednesday, President Donald Trump raved about the U.S. economy and the cost of products.

12/29/2025

Ernest Hemingway once said, "The hardest lesson I have had to learn as an adult is the relentless need to keep going, no matter how broken I feel inside." And that truth resonates deeply.

Life doesn’t stop when we’re grieving or exhausted. It doesn’t pause when we feel lost or like we can’t go on. It keeps moving forward, expecting us to keep up even when our hearts are heavy and our strength is spent.

As children, we were told that resilience meant a happy ending, that pain always had a purpose, and storms always passed. But adulthood teaches us a different truth. Survival isn’t poetic it’s messy, often invisible, and sometimes it feels like we’re barely holding it all together.

It’s getting up when all you want to do is hide. It’s smiling through tears. It’s showing up even when you feel completely worn out. Yet, somehow, we keep going. We keep moving forward, one step at a time, even when the path feels impossible.

Resilience isn’t always loud. Sometimes, it’s the quiet whisper that tells us: “Keep going.” It’s exhausting. It’s unfair. But every small step is proof that we’re still fighting. We’re still here. And that? That’s the bravest thing we can do

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