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The Care & Feeding Of The Good House {Beth Stephens ~ Home Tour}

 
Warning: this may not be the stereotypical home tour. In fact, it’s really more of a love letter on the care and feeding of The Good House. I hope you don’t mind. 
 
We have loved this house.
 
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For well over a decade – two thirds of our married life – we’ve loved its expansive porch, the shady canopy of its old trees, its peeling paint and uneven hardwood floors.
 
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We are not the first family to love this house well: built in 1905, it is rife with clues to its past scattered by other children galloping from room to room and other couples who spent cozy nights near the fireplace. 
 
However, I’d like to think we’ve loved it best.
 
We are not leaving, but we occasionally have a case of wandering eyes. We day dream about a little more breathing room and a little more outdoor elbow room, although we’re by no means cramped. The Good House is much larger than it appears, and it sits on a double lot in the heart of historic downtown Rogers – where old is new and families tired of a cookie cutter life are starting to seek its many charms.
 
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Still, when we think about a place where we can have acres and chickens and live just a little more like country mice, it feels like an owner’s manual is in order. We view the charming attributes of this house through rose colored glasses, and the next family who loves this house will need to be cut from a certain cloth. They:
 
Must be porch people who understand that the southern-facing porch craves attention. It will need people who drink coffee in the mornings as the sun peeks through the leaves and the town is quiet, who prop their feet up and listen to the old church bells at 5 o’clock and who gather those nearest and dearest to them for raucous evenings of laughter and children chasing fireflies by summer candlelight. An affinity for mason jars is suggested. 
 
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Should love neighborhood birds and be willing to provide all manner of seeds, treats and morsels for the woodpeckers, cardinals, hummingbirds, sparrows, wrens, dark-eyed juncos, robins, nuthatches, gnat catchers, cat birds and brown thrashers who call this place home. 
 
The cedar waxwings will come to the sugar maples in the spring, and it is possible the legacy of the albino sparrow will endure. The starlings are maddening but entertaining, the cooing doves are soothing and the squirrels are determined, wily and competitive.
 
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Ought to appreciate legacy and lineage. Actually, this is not our house. It’s “Betty Sutton’s old place,” where half of Rogers took piano lessons in the 70s and 80s. You’d best refer to it as such. 
 
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It’s also the Larimore home, where a man spent his childhood before becoming an itinerant bush pilot in Alaska and eventually – along with his future wife Nita (of the flaming hair) – leased a nearby storefront to Sam Walton to open the very first Walmart in 1962.
 
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Hettie Harris lived next door in the brick house, and she still drives by on occasion to check on the memory of her garden. Mr. Records lived down the alley, and one ought to think of him fondly each spring on all fours digging in the garden – into his nineties – to encourage hundreds of naturalized irises and tulips.
 
Must be welcoming, bordering on overwhelming. This house must have its screen doors thrown open each spring. In the summer, its residents must light candles while sitting together on the front porch swing so as not to frighten passersby who do not see them sitting in the shadows.  They must feed and water stray cats, and pause to take friendly lost dogs by the collar and call their owners to come fetch them.
 
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When it rains, they must rush like banshees to the front porch to appreciate the downpour. Bonus points are awarded to the homeowner willing to run out into a gully washer to relocate hanging plants for a free dousing and place watering cans under the downspouts. Also, fairies are abundant (obviously), so tread lightly.
 
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In the autumn, its proprietors must race to the front door around the third week in October (peak fall foliage) to encourage hesitant young couples that it is absolutely fine to take pictures of their children on the streetside wooden swing with a backdrop of auburn maple leaves. These young parents shouldn’t glance sheepishly over their shoulders toward the house, or feel judged or obligated to rush along. The swing is public property, provided with genuine delight. 
 
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Should love a cadence and a rhythm in life. The fireflies arrive in June. The ladybugs come (back) in the fall. The raking of leaves nearly kills you, but the flaming colors in the dappled fall sunlight make it tolerable.
 
At Halloween, the residents must throw on the street lamp and leave the porch lights blazing to communicate that this house has candy! Trick or treaters who venture down the otherwise dark street must be greeted over-enthusiastically and showered in candy. 
 
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A flag must be kept on the front of the house. When it appears tattered, the homeowners must take it down with pomp and circumstance, folding and properly retiring it before replacing it with a salute in their hearts. The red-bordered kitchen wall chalkboard is an appropriate place to broadcast the key verse of “In Flanders Field” come Veterans’ Day. 
 
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Speaking of chalkboards, they abound here – so tenants are advised to have a sense of humor and to infuse a little personality in the kitchen, dining room and every other chalkable nook and cranny. 
 
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In fact, I do believe the house is happier with artists, creators and day dreamers in residence – whether they work with whisks, words or watercolors. 
 
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A holiday open house is ideal on the first Monday in December when the annual holiday parade marches down Walnut Street. It’s always frigid, so it’s best to offer cookies, warm drinks and easy parking to friends and family unfamiliar with the charms of downtown living. Have your children press their noses to the windows as they thaw out afterwards, because Santa and Mrs.Claus ride back along this street toward Fire Station #1 at the end of the night.
 
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There’s so much more.
 
The owners must shout hello while gardening, walk the grounds to greet returning perennials, sit near a fading backyard fire under the starry summer skies and place a well-lit Christmas tree, menorah or holiday token in the windows in the depths of winter.
 
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They must love the creaking floors and the sturdy silence of this house at night, appreciate its irregularities and preach the gospel of old house living and a slower pace of life to anyone who will listen. They must encourage new neighborhood residents almost maniacally and compliment their home improvement efforts. 
 
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Upon taking a vacation and feeling accosted by life and generally overwhelmed by the many demands of this persnickety old house, the owners must return – crooning and apologizing, delighted to slip back into the welcoming arms of this cozy place. 
 
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The upstairs area needs, at its very core, to be a playroom. The front porch wants an eventual nip tuck – maybe tin ceiling tiles or haint blue paint. The sidewalks grow despondent without the regular application of chalky drawings, hopscotch and tricycle races. 
 
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The backyard periwinkle and irises are from my grandmother’s garden in Mena. The peonies are from my other grandmother in Texarkana, and being southern and obstinate, they resolutely bloom a good three weeks later than all the others in northwest Arkansas. The roses came by way of a neighbor, but that’s another story. 
 
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Don’t tell too many people, but coveted morel mushrooms pop up under the old ash tree following the spring rain. Spearmint and green onions grow on the east side of the dining room. Native Arkansas grapes show up here and there in the yard, Virginia creeper meanders along the white picket fence and tart thornless blackberries have been cultivated on the back fence. 
 
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A few generations of pets are buried under the weeping privet marking their place in our lives. Digging in the garden will occasionally yield the odd army man or piece of broken glass; this house has raised many families. I snuck that honeysuckle in near the west gate and planted that flowering quince too close to the house about ten years ago when I was still learning about gardening, and my husband is still fuming… but it’s home to a cardinal nest we can see from our bedroom and stands in as a leafy headboard. 
 
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The snowball viburnum blooms in April and then showers petals on the garden path after the first pummeling spring rains. My sturdy jack-in-the-pulpit pops up then too, but you have to have an eagle eye to appreciate it. Speaking of which, you’ll see bald eagles here and there, and the sound of the night hawks at dusk is as predictable as sunset. 
 
Every spring, the owners must genuinely welcome back the shy little garden snakes with their celadon and fuscia stripes on black. They don’t mean to startle, and they’re a tremendous asset – welcome and encourage them. The residents must firmly scold the hawks who swoop in from Mr. Records’ tree to steal away the aforementioned snakes as they thaw out on the first sunny spring day.
 
They’ll need to diplomatically usher the crickets, garden spiders and mosquito hawks who wander inside back out, and they must cultivate children who do not squeal when they see bugs. They must deeply appreciate the stucco walls, skinny window seats and the way the light falls differently in every room, and should smile once in a while at the 1956 handprints and signatures in the carport concrete.
 
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The residents of this house must be caretakers, playing their part in a much larger story but never feeling their role is anything less than essential and timeless. 
 
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Last but not least, a sense of wonder must accompany the privilege of living here. Once in a while, the owners must wake in the dark of night and meander through this house, knowing it by heart and dragging their fingers along the old walls, slipping into the children’s bedrooms to listen to their breathing and looking with shining and expectant eyes out the windows at the quiet, still little neighborhood that is home to The Good House.
 
Come to think of it, we had better just stay put another decade or three. There’s no way anyone else will understand this house quite the way we do. 

The Quicker, Thicker Picker-Upper: Bounty (or The Bounty at Our Feet)

by Kayla Shown-Dean

When I heard this month’s theme was bounty, I immediately thought of the quicker, thicker picker-upper: Bounty.

Share the Bounty Christmastime

I find myself at YouTube, watching a few of the old 1992 and 1993 commercials of little ninjas and cowboys knocking over juice. It makes me think of my own little ninja turtle who is at his Mimi’s tonight. Then, I start counting my blessings.

My Little Ninja BOUNTY

I have a mother who lives near by and who is good enough health to care for my child. My son goes to a great daycare. He has access to a good doctor, healthy food, and clean water, which is so much more than many have. We live in a nice enough home. I mean, sure it’s an older home with older home problems. The bathrooms are outdated, and the washer overflows onto the patio after every rinse cycle. But it serves its purpose; it keeps us safe, warm (or cool, in this Arkansas summer heat), and dry.

My mind continued to wander as it’s prone to do.

I remember Christmastime, the loads of presents that my mother insists on filling our vehicle with. A lot of her gifts are used, things she picked up at yard sales or Goodwill, but it’s new to us, and we are happy to receive it.

I think of a specific memory: a night during Christmas week 2015.

I had just got off work. My plan was to take my family out for dinner at Waffle House, and then go home and make Christmas cookies for Santa. But as soon as I made it to my car, I got a phone call. A friend needed me. I postponed my dinner plans, of course, and went to help her. But I wasn’t happy about it. I was tired, hungry, and had a long evening of baking to look forward to, when all I wanted to do was sleep. I made it to the restaurant. We ate. The waitress chatted with us. She asked us if we were enjoying our holiday. “It’ll be better when tonight’s over,” I said under my breath. Since we are regulars, she asked what was wrong. I told her about my stress and how much I dreaded the process of making Christmas cookies that evening. All the while my little boy bounced in the seat across from me, excited to be eating at his favorite restaurant and celebrating Christmas.

The waitress brought our food, and we ate. But my husband just shook his head. “I don’t believe you,” he said, “Here you sit complaining about making Christmas cookies with your son, who is excited to help you by the way, to a woman who would probably love to be baking cookies with her kids tonight, but she can’t. She’s working, serving you.”

 Christmas Cookies BOUNTY

His words were harsh, but he was right.

Too often we focus on what we don’t have. We complain we don’t have enough time to ourselves, to do housework, to write, to rest, whatever. We stress and worry and complain over such petty things that we don’t see the bounty before us. We don’t see how much we truly have. And if we would take the time, just for a minute, to take a look at our bounty we would discover that the commercials were right: it is the quicker, thicker picker-upper. By taking note of the bounty at our feet (and sharing it with others), we can pick ourselves right up out of our negativity and see how blessed we truly are.

My Hometown – Blogger of the Month

by Carmella Fryer, Miss May 2016hometown-downtown

I have a hard time when people ask me about my hometown. Is my hometown where I grew up or where I currently reside? I looked it up and as it turns out both are correct. My most natural response when asked about my hometown is Alma, Arkansas, the town in which I grew up.

hometown-park

For all y’all foreigners (i.e., not from Alma) it’s pronounced AL-muh. A woman recently argued with my mother and me on this matter. She told us her friends make fun of her for saying it this way. They told her it is pronounced ALL-muh. We told her the friends were wrong. She looked at us as if we were poor, uneducated souls. Mom and I both grew up here. Mom still lives here. I’m pretty sure we are authorities on the pronunciation. I don’t think we ever convinced her of the correct pronunciation. I share this now as a public service announcement.

hometown-pizza

You may have stopped in Alma many times and not realized it. For years it has served as a pit stop on the way to Northwest Arkansas. Interstate 40 intersects with Scenic Highway 71 and Interstate 49. Because of this you will find quite a few fast food restaurants, stores, gas stations and motels along the Highway 71 strip, most of which have everyday names recognized in most places. There are a couple local food establishments worth noting.  Up at the top of the hill on 71 is the Pizza Parlour. My brother and I were partially raised on the pizza in this hole-in-the-wall. The décor will take you straight back to nineteen-seventy-something. The pies are good and easy on the pocket book. The supreme and taco pizza with salsa are our family favorites.

hometown-catfish

Just south and across the road from Pizza Parlour is The Catfish Hole. This is the new fancy location. The original was a few miles north in a small, shabby house near my childhood home. I’m a traditionalist and stick with the fried catfish. I have no doubt that everything else on the menu is good, too. Be sure to get the fixin’s which include hushpuppies, coleslaw, pickles, onions, and green tomato relish.

hometown-AtoZ

If you enjoy shopping for antiques and good deals then visiting Alma is a must. There are several antique/flea market shops stretching along Highway 71. Three miles north of Alma on 71 you’ll find A to Z which has a little bit of everything, from crafty supplies to groceries and sporting goods. There’s even an antique/flea market shop on site. If you are looking for high-end furniture at a bargain price, head another mile or two north on 71 to Dean’s Furniture.

hometown-pac

One of the things I love most about Alma is its juxtaposition of small town, country living with elements you might expect to find in a bigger city. In other words, Alma has always been just a little too big for its britches and I’m proud of that. Alma is host to Eagle Crest golf course which is on the Natural State Golf Tour. It is home to one of the largest Aquatic Parks in the area. Possibly the biggest juxtaposition of all is the Alma Performing Arts Center which serves to bring the arts alive in the River Valley area.

As you can tell, I’m quite proud of my hometown. I could go on and on for days talking about this little pit stop. If you haven’t already, I hope you’ll stop by for a visit.

Blogger Home Tour – Carmella

1.home-tour-home

I signed up at the first of the year to host a home tour in April. My brother had just accepted a new job in central Arkansas. He, his lovely wife, their four children and 100 pound golden had just moved in with my son, two 12 pound pups and me. I thought signing up to host a home tour would give us good motivation to get settled in. While it did provide good motivation, what it did not do is give us more hours in the day or remove the challenges that life decided to throw our way.

2.home-tour-truck

Since that moving van left Oklahoma and headed this way in late December, we have had four emergency room visits by individuals in this house (seven if you include visits by our mom and step-dad). We’ve celebrated seven or so holidays, two birthdays and one anniversary. My brother started his new job. The kids started new schools.

We have been busy.

This is not exactly the home tour I imagined sharing when I signed up. I had grandiose ideas of picture-perfect décor. That’s not our reality. Ours is an organized chaos filled with grace. I like this post much better. It was more fun and much less stressful to pull together than what I originally envisioned. So without further ado, here’s a little peek into the place we call home.

3.home-tour-front-door

Welcome to our home. Be careful coming up the steps. You might want to take an allergy pill, too. Those pollen worms from the oak trees are everywhere this time of year. Oh and watch out for the birds that are nesting in the right corner of the grapevine garland. They swoop a little low when leaving the nest.

4.home-tour-boxes

We still have boxes piled up in some rooms and too much furniture in others. But you know what? That doesn’t keep us from having a home filled with love and laughter. We are making memories that will be forever cherished. Isn’t that what matters most?

5.home-tour-kitchen

Just like most homes, the kitchen is the heartbeat of the house. It’s where we gather to grab breakfast on our way out the door to school and work. It’s where our dogs hang out while we are away. It’s where my sister-in-love whips up amazing dishes for our party of eight. It’s where we make tasty and fun treats with the kiddos.

6.home-tour-mantel

The second busiest room in our home is the family room. I try to keep the mantel changed up with festive decorations (for the kids, right?). Having a chalkboard that takes up most of the space makes it easy and fun to change out. Cheap banners from Target, Walgreens, and Party City make for a quick and cute statement. I enjoy shopping our home to add a few final touches. Sometimes I’ll grab a discounted bouquet of fresh flowers to add an extra touch of happy. The reactions from the kids as I change it out make it more than worth the effort. I highly recommend having one place in your home that you change out a few times a year. As you can see, it doesn’t have to be complicated or expensive.

7.home-tour-den

In the family room we have a ginormous sectional, a requirement for a family of eight. This is where we celebrate, watch TV, chat, chill and wield lightsabers.

8.home-tour-den2

It’s where we have dance parties, balloon fights and family game nights. It’s where we host family meetings and get to the bottom of mysteries. It’s where we connect and encourage one another.

9.home-tour-backyard

The third most used room in our home is the backyard. Lately, we have been admiring the new blooms and nesting birds. We have a lot of fun with our four-legged family here, too. Soon we will be creating new memories poolside.      

And with that, I’ll conclude our tour. Thank you again, Arkansas Women Bloggers, for allowing me the opportunity to share our home. I hope sharing our reality encourages others and drives home the point that it’s not the picture-perfect décor that will be remembered, it’s the memories.

Creativity

by Melinda LaFevers

MidSouthCon 2016

Imagine, for just a moment, a world without imagination. What would it look like? We would have no space shuttles, no sky scrapers, no X-ray machines. No planes, trains and automobiles. We would have no music, no movies, few, if any, books. Most forms of art would be non-existent. We might not have houses or running water, and we might even still be eating our meat raw.

It took someone with the creativity and imagination to think of all of those things – and then to figure out how to make the impossible come true. Imagination and creativity are the first requirements for any invention or discovery. Yet we seem to value those things less and less.

A recent study showed that America’s creativity quotient has steadily dropped since the 90s. The main speculation on why this is occurring is the “No Child Left Behind” program. Because school test performance was so closely tied to funding, for the last couple of generations teachers have been teaching “to the tests.” American students have only been taught how to memorize facts and take standardized tests. They have not been taught how to think or problem solve.

I read an article in the newspaper a few years back about a school in California. This school decided that any child who did not make a satisfactory score on the benchmark tests would only be allowed to take math and English courses the following year. No art, no music, no social studies (that wasn’t tested, so it wasn’t important) no P.E. – nothing but math and English, all day long. Can you imagine what that type of schedule would do to a child’s spirit?

But what is so important about creativity, anyway? Why should we encourage it? Sir Ken Robinson, a worldwide known expert in education, says:

There are two other concepts to keep in mind: imagination  and innovation. Imagination is the root of creativity. It is the  ability to bring to mind things that aren’t present to our senses. Creativity is putting your imagination to work. It is applied  imagination. Innovation is putting new ideas into practice.   

But so what? Isn’t it true that only certain people can be creative? Robinson says no, that is a myth. He believes that creativity can and should be encouraged, developed, and taught in our schools.

But why? Why should we bother trying to develop creativity and imagination? Sure, creativity might be good for inventors and artists, but what about the rest of us? Do we actually need it? One of type of creative fiction is science fiction. To use one author, Heinlein   his stories were full of innovations that had not yet happened when he wrote about them. The cell phone, water bed, air dryers for hands and body, astrogation, auto cars (now being tested), microwavable food, waldos, artificial meat   those are only a few of the innovations he put into his books that did not exist when he wrote about them, but do exist today. Creativity and imagination is necessary for innovation and invention.

That might be fine and dandy for the researchers and inventors. But what about your average person? Why would “Joe off the street” be interested in developing creativity in himself or his family? In 1958, researcher Paul Torrance gave nearly 400 Minneapolis children a series of activities designed to measure creativity quotient. For over 50 years, researchers tracked those students, their achievements and their life-time accomplishments. Those students who had showed the greatest creativity and imagination on the Torrance tests were the ones most likely to end up as business owners, doctors, authors, diplomats, etc. They were also the ones most likely to express satisfaction with their life. The data has recently been reviewed and re-analyzed. The correlation between lifetime accomplishment and satisfaction and childhood creative quotient was three times higher than it was for childhood intelligence quotient.

So, why do we need creativity? For innovation. For new discoveries. For new inventions, new ways of doing things, new art pieces, new music, new books, new science…We   All of us   we need creativity, imagination, innovation, to make us better people, with happier lives.

Imagine a world with no imagination. That is not a world I want to live in. I’d rather imagine a world full of creativity, wonder, and imagination. Go forth and imagine. Go forth and create!

References:

http://www.newsweek.com/creativity-crisis-74665

http://www.mondaymorningmemo.com/newsletters/college-isnt-for-everyone/

http://money.cnn.com/1997/02/03/busunu/creativity/

http://ww2.kqed.org/mindshift/2015/04/22/sir-ken-robinson-creativity-is-in-everything-especially-teaching/

http://www.technovelgy.com/ct/AuthorTotalAlphaList.asp?AuNum=2&offset=160
Melinda LaFevers is a creative, imaginative, renaissance woman with a wide variety of interests. She is a substitute teacher, an Arkansas A+ Fellow, and a writer. She is also on the Arkansas Arts in Education residency artist roster with two programs, Life in a Castle  and Life in a Log Cabin that she presents in schools around the state. She has speculative fiction stories in several anthologies, writes a regular column on herbs for The Renaissance Magazine, and her first non-fiction book, Meditations of a Hoarder, was released last June. She likes to imagine the day that her house is completely organized. More of her writings may be read at https://melindalafevers.wordpress.com/ and https://hoardinglife.wordpress.com/

Sarabeth Jones: Food Adventures in Argenta

Celebrate Food Adventures in Argenta

I love my hometown of North Little Rock, especially the revived historic downtown district of Argenta, where you can have a food adventure just walking down Main street!

Start with at Mugs Café. Yummy coffee concoctions and breakfast – and folks line up out the door on Saturday mornings for their all you can eat pancakes for just $5.

Food in Argenta - Mugs people

Food in Argenta - Mugs Cafe breakfast

Work off some of that breakfast by wandering down to Argenta Bead Company, Galaxy Furniture, or the Argenta Drugstore – each with it’s own eclectic atmosphere and plenty to look at. Or, if it’s summertime, you definitely will want to spend some time at the Argenta Farmer’s Market, where the food and products are all guaranteed Arkansas-grown.

Food in Argenta-farmers market

Perhaps you are thirsty by now, so walk a couple blocks over to Diamond Bear Brewery to enjoy their patio and a local craft beer. More likely than not, there will be some sort of fun event going on as well.

Food in Argenta - Diamond Bear cases

Food in Argenta - Diamond Bear Brewery

Or perhaps you are ready for a lovely lunch. Back over on Main, you’ll find fantastic pizza and pasta dishes at Ristorante Capeo, a beautiful spot that has long been known for excellent Italian dinner. We are all grateful that they’ve added lunch to their repertoire.

Food in Argenta - Ristorante Capeo

If you find yourself in the area during the evening, you’ll want to head to The Joint. This coffee shop/comedy club also serves cocktails and light meals while hosting live music and improv nights. And there is always an original theater show running performed by The Main Thing, a brilliantly funny comedy trio. Truly – something for everyone!

Food in Argenta-The Joint

Food in Argenta - The Joint outside

Or maybe you’re just looking for a quiet spot. Sit and enjoy a lovely glass of wine or beer and a charcuterie plate at Crush. The atmosphere is as much a draw as their extensive wine selection; this is the perfect quiet spot to have a date or meet friends for conversation.

Food in Argenta - Crush Wine Bar

Food in Argenta - Crush Wine Bar patio

There you have it: morning, noon, or night, there’s are food adventures to be had in Argenta!

[Tweet “When was the last time you took an Argenta adventure? How about now? #foodiefriday #ARWB” @sarabethjones]

sarabeth jones 2JPGSarabeth Jones is a creative at Fellowship North who enjoys all kinds of artistic work; her latest project is bringing the national live-reading show Listen To Your Mother to Little Rock. She lives in Sherwood with her husband, Bryan, and their kids, Elizabeth, Jonathan, and Will. She loves to write about the way they make her laugh on her blog, thedramatic.com.

Twitter & IG: @sarabethjones
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