Showing posts with label Military Life. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Military Life. Show all posts

22 November 2016

Celebrations Of The Little Things…

I've been blogging on and off since about 2006 and I always seem to come back to it as I find writing meditative therapy most of the time. I've also always come back to this post when I need to count my blessings. Our family has changed, been added to, grown up and most of the chicks have left the nest but some things never change. I hope this might help others keep things in perspective. There are many things in the world that seem divided right now. I don't particularly care what your race, creed, religion, political views, citizenship or sexual orientation is. The following is about what we need to think about in our own lives. Anger and frustration that rules one's day, helps no one and steals something precious from everyone. So take a deep breath, open your mind, step into the present and truly look around you...

and celebrate the little things in life

Every once in a while, I think we are all given little 'Wake Up' calls. Either something happens to someone we know or someone says something to you that really resonates with something inside of you (if you have a heart) and the little voice that resides in everyone (who has a conscience) prods us to remember to celebrate the little things. It’s easy to celebrate holidays and some of us can remember birthdays and anniversaries (if we have a memory).
I think that I didn’t learn this lesson early enough in my life. I’m left with a lot of shoulda, coulda, woulda moments of regret that need to be replaced with the celebration of life, in the moment. 

Did you notice how fast your parents and siblings were growing when you, yourself are a child? Did you think about or even realize that there would soon come to a time when because of school, work, military service, marriage, and all the other myriad of detritus that life hands you, that you would no longer live with them?  In many cases you would physically live far away from them?  I don’t ever remember stopping long enough to take an actual or mental picture of those days in my mind to keep in my memories.

The years flew by, I don’t know where they have all gone but I have very few actual pictures of my childhood, school, military service, my husband and I when we were first married. There are lots of pictures of Nicole when she was a baby. The pictures, however, become scarce as the rest of the children came along. It is not because we were any less proud of them or happy that they came along. I think that the worries of everyday life become exponential with each child. Worries that eat at our ability to enjoy life in the moment. We are even less likely to stop and celebrate the little things in life.

September 11th gave many people I know the wake up call I speak of, but like human nature often is, the lesson, no matter how horrific in it’s execution, softens with time. We don't forget, but it becomes blurred with age.  I don’t know when this realization happened for me. It was before September 11th. I think it started just after my husband and I got married. I started asking questions of relatives about their lives. I started writing down their stories. I started keeping track of my immediate genealogy, although at the time, I didn’t realize what I was doing. It eventually evolved into tracing both my parents genealogy back to the time their ancestors immigrated to North America. It wasn't far to find the 1st generation American’s. All four of my grandparents came to the United States from Canada and were the first ones to stay. I count myself lucky to know their life story.

Our own children are growing so fast. Nicole and Danielle’s childhood moments are overshadowed by the struggle of survival, because both my husband and I separated from active duty within 6 months of each other during the last national economic downfall. We were then blessed with Rachel but like so many other people, we struggled with everyday worries. We both worked 2 and 3 jobs to make ends meet until I became pregnant with Erin, our youngest.

After that, a disability I had received in the military finally left me unable to take care of not only myself but our children. I feel like I have lost about 7 years of my life. It has been a very long road back. During this time, our families and our truly closest friends and family, John and Kelly were what kept us going. 

I have learned to try not to miss the little milestones that come to us every day. They come whether you stop long enough to appreciate them or not. So many times they can pass you by and you mourn their loss when you finally realize they are gone. I forgot where I read that life does not have any ‘do-overs’ but occasionally you will be blessed with a ‘do-again’.

Despite not having most of my family and friends around lately, I have lately found pleasure in the moments with Erin. At 8 years old she is still my baby. She is growing and her personality is becoming more pronounced. She tackles life so differently than the other three. I have blown off most of the housework this week. It will keep. I’m going on treasure hunts and exploring the world through the eyes of Erin. I am collecting these moments of time in my memories to be taken out at some future date to be relived and enjoyed again. I am not going to try not having to re-live another moment of regret for this time that I was given with her.

If you want to know how this lesson solidified in my mind…the moment that I truly learned this lesson… it was the first time my husband was in the mid-east. He would send the kids and I pictures of grass. Yes, you read that right. There was this one spot where everyone threw out their wash water and eventually a straggly excuse for grass started growing. My husband had a picture of himself taken sitting in this 3 ft by 3ft patch of grass. He was cross legged and his eyes were closed. His hands were in the position of someone meditating and saying 'ooooohhhhmmm, ooooohhhhmmmm.' (Man that man cracks me up!)

He also would pick these small flowers that he would find among the rocks. Proof that life will survive in the most unlikeliest and most inhospitable places on earth. They do not stop growing because of the war being waged. Their ability to exist with such beauty is a testament to life. My husband used paper, plastic wrap and cardboard from his care packages to press these flowers. He brought them home to us and when he returns to the mid-east our daughters and I will be using his away time mounting and framing them for our rooms.

I usually write my quote of the day as a way to wrap up a point to my posts. Today I will only impart my own humble message. “It is not always possible to live in the moment, but when the opportunity does present itself….do not waste it for it is precious and may not come again.”

11 January 2016

Mr Alarm Clock's Obituary

humor
Mr Alarm Clock
I am contemplating the premeditated murder of our old alarm clock. The same alarm clock my husband has already resurrected once before.

At least I have the obituary written already. Only have to update it a little bit. It's Monday. Nuff said.
Mr. Alarm Clock (1998-2006) New England - Alarm Clock of the Lemon Stand household died Thursday morning, October 26, 2006 after a sudden traumatic incident involving the accidental awakening of the mistress of Lemon Stand. Mr. Clock died of massive internal injuries. He was 8 years old.

Mr. Clock was adopted in 1998 and was a permanent member of the bedside nightstand of the owners of the Lemon Stand Household, where he served admirably for many years in the master bedroom. His service included performing the duties of time keeper and wake up calls no matter what shift the owners worked.

Later in life, he remained a faithful companion of the Master of the Lemon Stand household and was so distraught upon the recent deployment to Iraq of said Master that he became inconsolable. He would alarm the household at inappropriate times and on occasion would break out into song without prompting.

In the early morning hours of Thursday, before the sun had come up, Mr. Clock startled the mistress who promptly defended her sanity by propelling Mr. Alarm Clock into a wall at a high rate of speed. Mr. Clock died on impact caused by the sudden stop. No charges have been filed as it was an act of self defense.

Mr. Clock will be buried with full military honors at the town transfer station (garbage dump) on Saturday. In lieu of flowers, Memorial Contributions may be made to Soldiers Angels. Mr. Clock would have been pleased to know that his demise was able to touch another service member.

(Originally posted 26 Oct 2006)
QOTD: "My alarm clock is clearly jealous of my amazing relationship with my bed." ~ unknown

10 November 2015

Veteran's Day...

My family and I would like to thank every Veteran alive today.  Today's Veterans are the reason we still live on free ground, paid for with their service.  I know this.  All Veterans stand securely on the shoulders of so many who went before them.  And just like they, they build the foundation our freedom rests upon.

To every American who stands upon free Land today ~ there is no higher honor to a Veteran than to have been entrusted to stand guard for you and preserve your Freedom of Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness.  When all diplomacy failed, to have bodily prevented these rights of being stripped from you.  It is no less an honor to also have served any American citizen who have taken these rights for granted.  Who have not honored, showed respect or loyalty to the Veterans who have willingly stood sentinel between any bullet, bomb or weapon and youself. We have been honored to have safeguarded your right to do so.

Why are we honored to do so?  Because we realize you do not understand deep within yourself, the concept that Freedom is not hereditary.  It is not automatically passed down to you or your children.  'Freedom Is Not Free' is just a slogan for you, not a realization of fact because you have had no frame of reference to compare it with.   Freedom is paid for with sweat, blood, determination and lives when all diplomacy fails.  Less than one percent of the American population today serve in our voluntary armed forces.  They have or will have seen those same rights you take for granted, stripped from citizens of foreign countries.  When the eyes cannot deny the vivid image burned within them, the memories of the mind will not forget.   Forever more, they are changed.  Veterans who no longer serve actively, live this.

To those Veterans who no longer stand among us, I want to assure you that your spirit, loyalty, strength, courage, patriotism and life has not been in vain.  I have seen this with my own eyes.  I have felt this in my own heart.  I have nurtured this in my own soul and I have tended it with my own hands.  There are no words with depth of meaning to thank you for protecting and ensuring that I may have done so.

30 April 2014

The Most Amazing Discovery...

12 Nov 2010
Email from Me to my Husband: Honey, I’ve made the most amazing discovery!  There are other homo sapiens like you (other than our kids) after all.  I am sure you are so relieved!  Just look!

From Laura of Fetch My Flying Monkeys
J is a freedom-hating-Michael Kors-loathing Nazi and here's proof.

J: "I want you to take my credit card on vacation with you. I want you to only use in it in case there's an emergency." Hands me a black card.

Me: "Sweeeeet."

J: "Umm Laura, an emergency only, okay?"

Me: "Okay." Fondles card. "My Preciousssss."

J: "Maybe we should go over what constitutes an emergency."

Me: "If I see a Michael Kors purse 50% or more off."

J: "No, Laura. I was thinking about if there's an emergency on the road traveling."

Me: "So we're driving down the road and there's a roadside stand and they're selling Michael Kors purses 50% or more off."

J: "No. Do not use it to buy a Michael Kors purse."

Me: "Okay. So we're driving down the road and there's a roadside stand selling otters, and for every otter you buy you get a free Michael Kors purse."

J: --

Me: "Two free Michael Kors purses per otter?"

J: "I'm not kidding, Laura. Use it for emergencies ONLY."

Me: "Like in case there's a zombie attack?"

J: Sighs. "Zombie attacks would constitute as an emergency, yes."

Me: "Like for buying weapons, right?"

J: "Yes, you can buy weapons on it in case of zombie attack."

Me: "And bullets? Lots of bullets?"

J: "Yes. In case of zombie attack you can use it for weapons and lots of bullets."

Me: "And a Michael Kors purse to keep the bullets in?"

J: "Give me my card back."

Me to Husband: Honey, I am also sending a copy of this post to our (five) daughters (who are convinced a zombie invasion is imminent) just to make sure they are prepared. Gotta tell them to make sure they get a Michael Kors purse to put the bullets in... then, it's not a purse, it's a supply chest... Right?

Husband: Who is Michael Kors, and will a purse made by him hold a chainsaw and/or M249 SAW magazine? How many nadgrenades can it hold? Are the seams double stitched so it won't spill my 12 gauge rounds while knocking down zombies with it? 

Me: What are nadgrenades?

Husband: Sorry typo on a small keyboard, insert hand grenades, either GP (general purpose) or white phosphorus...

purse
Me: This one would be PERFECT!!!  MICHAEL KORS Darrington Shoulder Tote, Taupe  995.00

(That would be the amount of American dollars required to acquire said specimen. Zombies optional.) Since we have five daughters and myself... we'd need six of them... but wait!  It's taupe!  It would look fabulous with any of your fashionable desert camouflage wardrobe... In that case then, we would need 7 of these babies, please. Since you ARE currently stuck in Las Vegas, perhaps you could take advantage of the opportunity to earn a few extra dollars shakin' your bootie?

Love,
your wife and daughters...

Husband: Bootie? I think I broke it, however if you allow me to withdraw the mortgage money, I'm sure I can double it...

Me: Sigh.  Well, if your bootie is broken, perhaps you could rent yourself out as an executive level escort?  As for the mortgage money, no.  We really do need to buy these Michael Kor Handbags with money not already earmarked for current expenses.  This is strictly so that we can be ready for when the Zombies DO attack.  I do believe we will have a little time for you to work the magic of your sparkling personality.

Husband: I am too old for an "escort service".  I have thought about a side job as a thong model, perhaps some conservative right-wing loud mouth will pay me in a subtle reverse psychology attack on the male undergarment industry.

Me: A thong model? Hmmmm.  That sounds like it has potential... How soon do you think you could get started?  I, personally, would not pay for the thongs, but the pictures DO sound like they might have promise....

Husband: As soon as...

A. I can find one in green (of course).
B. Get limber enough to strut properly, probably not any time soon.
C. File the necessary environmental impact statement. It's Friday the day after a federal holiday, I'm sure the EPA is swamped.

Me: Why would you need an environmental impact statement?  Afraid to shock the squirrels?  Scare the bears?  Besides, I think you'll look much better in a thong than I will...

Husband: Not according to the maid…

Me: OK.  I guess I need to become resigned about our inability to fend off the zombies....

Husband: Just rethink the plan. We don't have children, we have 5 opportunities to distract them...

Me: Riiiiggght.  Unfortunately, "Don't worry... the zombies are looking for brains.  You're safe." only applies to our daughters and I really didn't want to have to sacrifice you like that... Sentimental reasons, you know.  Thirty years and you've kinda grown on me.  I have you trained almost to perfection.  Still... I guess a girl's gotta do what a girl’s gotta do...

15 March 2013

Observing Instead Of Vacationing...

So the husband is currently on temporary duty (TDY) at a different base and has been tapped to be an inspector for a 'practice' military exercise even though he was only expecting to be an 'observer'. This means instead of observing the action, he's grading those doing the action and writing up what they did wrong. In other words, no vacation here...

After the panic of the first day, I got a text message this morning that said, "Today is fun. I get to kill folks and break things."

(In military speak, that means something like, "I get to point at someone and say, 'You just got shot.' then say to his buddy, 'Just what are you supposed to do now?' and 'This piece of equipment just broke, how are you going to do your job without it?'")

I, of course, texted him back and said, "Life is all about the little trade offs."

Then I get the call this evening...
"I missed breakfast and lunch and just got back to the hotel after a very long day and four double shots of scotch. Think I'll go to bed now..." 

It's 7pm there. Yup, military life rarely changes it's spots.


QOTD: "Airplanes suffers from so many technical faults that it is only a matter of time before any reasonable man realizes that they are useless!" ~ Scientific American (1910)

13 March 2013

Loretta Lou And The Logistics Of Selling Your Kids On Ebay...

A few years back I was reading another favorite blog of mine, Just Another Snarky Wife. Her post was about her husband coming home after being deployed and doing the happy snoopy dance.  I laughed and cried reading this post.  But the one thing that really stuck a chord with me was her theory about how to be a successful Navy spouse. After pondering this theory I now believe it is true for any spouse, single parent or caregiver (regardless of military affiliation), that has one of those days.  You know the kind I'm talking about...
"I have a theory: The successful Navy spouse is the one who can paste a cheery smile on her face even though she's working out the logistics of selling the kids on eBay, ditching the house, finding a job at a truck stop restaurant in Podunk, Arizona, and changing her name to Loretta Lou. Okay, it's not a theory so much as an intense desire to know I've hit some type of marker of success. /snort"
That was just too funny a definition to pass up passing it on!  Please read the entire post, I've linked it here (and on her blog name above)

QOTD: "I have always believed that writing advertisements is the second most profitable form of writing. The first, of course, is ransom notes..." ~ Philip Dusenberry

30 January 2013

It's Not Always About The Funny...

http://mayhemandmuse.com/funny-illustrations-by-ursula-vernon/lurking-sock-puppet-loch-ness-monster-fright-surprise-funny-humor-art-illustration/

I promised Meleah of Mama Mia, Mea Culpa that I would be brave, dig deep and post about my demons (which I rarely do).  [I think I've actually ended up in China] Meleah's walking a hard road, and I seem to have a lot of friends (Sarah) and family that are also struggling right now with life. My post started to look like the Encyclopedia Britannica so I decided to not reinvent the wheel as you will see below.


I may say that writing about demons is not really what my blog is all about, but that's not quite true.  Meleah made me remember, if I truly want to be honest with myself, why I don't just write this blog for the funny, humorous ways I try to look at things. A way to try to understand why things happen the way they do and that all tears that are shed are not necessarily bad. 

This blog started as a place for me because I don't just want to write, I need to write, and this includes those very few serious posts that dig deep and allows me to rip off the bandage of a hurt to air what is festering within me beneath the surface.  To help heal and be at peace with what causes deep pain within me.  This blog is part of what helps me to stay on track.  It's my map and it almost always shows me the right way. In truth, I find I sometimes have gotten lost without it. I need this compass to reset me in the right direction. 

I keep this blog public because I have found, to my surprise, that I am not alone in my troubles and that is heartening.  I have been told that sometimes, my posts touch and helps to soothe something in someone else's life. The good, the bad, the ugly, the scary and the depressing things are all aired like dirty laundry. Knowing that what helps to heal me helps others is humbling.

So I want to share what this blog means to me. It's a commitment... I believe a commitment is to keep going even when you knowingly or unknowingly let life knock you on your ass.  A commitment is when you try even harder to reach that goal no matter how many bricks are placed in your path, it is a determination to adapt, adjust and overcome. To use those bricks to build a solid foundation that won't allow you to crumble. A commitment is when you look at that brick wall and you automatically start looking for ways to go around it, under it, over it, breaking through it, or when necessary, you paint it with a picture of what you are committed to attaining and then you find a different road to your goal.  


Jimmy Dean once said, "I can't change the direction of the wind, but I can adjust my sails to always reach my destination."

I am like every other human being and get discouraged, lost, depressed or sometimes feel unappreciated.  I need reminders of what is important.  New Year resolutions are an excuse to wait for a certain day to make a commitment to something better for you, your friends or your family.  Just like Alice in Wonderland, instead of celebrating ONE birthday, we should be celebrating EVERY UN-BIRTHDAY.

I have many goals and blessings to remember and be thankful for.  If reading any of this helps someone else take a good long look around on the road they are on, where they are really going, and helps to scrounge up the courage to take that first step that may start a journey of a thousand miles for them, then the fear and humiliation of sharing these things are more than worth it to me. I have made a lot of mistakes, but I choose to look at myself as a work in progress whenever I can.

With all this in mind, I give you my thoughts on the toughest things I've ever faced.  Not for pity, not for attention, not for someone else's amusement.  This is for those who come here to read about keeping it together.  To find humor or a different way of looking at a problem. A different perspective. I pray that I have been lucky enough to have painted many clear mental pictures and that you will find somewhere in the middle of it all a small nugget that will 'speak' to you, maybe give you some small measure of peace...

Feel free to skip this post. This post is not about the funny. There are many people do not want to read of someone else's troubles and how they got through them and I can totally respect that.  I'll be back to the funny soon.  For those that want to know what has kept me sane despite the lobbing of so many lemons then go ahead and click only on those things you feel a need know. There are 11 posts (out of over 500 posts I've written here and on my previous blog) and I doubt anyone one wants that much of me in one day... at least without some serious chocolate or libation. :)  Yes, there are always hints of humor, but I've truly never been more serious in my life. The humor merely helps to ease the pain.

First, I think it's important to know the definition of courage, bravery and change. I used to think I was never brave. That I was a coward all the time for not handling events in my life better.  I was wrong and maybe it's time for you to find out you are too.


Learn to celebrate the little things in life.  “It is not always possible to live in the moment, but when the opportunity does present itself….do not waste it for it is precious and may not come again.” ~ Lemon Stand

Remember to count your blessings. "When you arise in the morning, give thanks for the morning light, for your life and strength. Give thanks for your food, and the joy of living. If you see no reason for giving thanks, the fault lies with yourself."  ~ Tecumseh Shawnee Chief (1768-1813)

Do not allow your past to ruin or take away your future.  Remember, "A man whose yesterdays rest on his horizon travels forward into his past.  The result is that he goes a very long way to nowhere." ~ Catherine Anderson

I have a very deep and personal relationship with depression and if the winter blues or any other form of the depression gets you down.  You are NOT alone.  Far from it.  These were the hardest of all my posts to write. There is no deeper digging that I could do. Depression and PTSD are the 'Nessie' (of Loch Ness fame) in my life and I tried to explain how it affects and has affected my family.  

I've written about Alcoholism. My father's to be exact.  His story is so sad because it is very common.  Then I wrote about the legacy he left me and my final understanding of the 'why' of it and how I escaped his fate.

And lastly I have written about how I can look back and laugh at it all and have discovered there truly is an Instruction Manual of Life.
 

Nessie And I...

Yes, Nessie The Loch Ness Monster,  and I are on a first name basis, but we will never be BFFs!  Nessie and I have been fighting and it's turning into a no-holds-barred, no-rules-applied, knock-down, dragged-out fight.  As I sit here writing this, it's sounds rather comical and if life were all puppy dogs and rainbows this would actually be comical.  As it is, though, there are times when my own personal 'Nessie' wins no matter how hard I fight it.  No matter how many times I tell myself (and everyone around tells me) that there are so many others who have problems that are way more serious than mine.  Most of the time, this works.  But for someone who battles severe depression, panic attacks and PTSD up close and personal, there are times when that statement only makes things worse. 

Of course I know that I am in a way better place than most people.  Here's the thing, though.  Within that very vivid awareness of those other people... my problems are just not important.  I'm not important.  Sometimes, this statement just says, "I have absolutely no right to the emotions and feelings that I am fighting."  Which is why I do not write when I am in this terrible place.  It is why I do not call when I am in this terrible place.  It is why I seem to disappear off the face of the planet and it is why I don't even leave my house when I am in this terrible place.  What right do I have to complain over something I have no control over?  And do you want to know the worst part of all this?  It's the effect it has on my family.  They hurt for me.  They worry for me.  They have learned that they cannot not count on me when I am here in this terrible place.  Which also makes them question whether they can count on me when I am not in this terrible place.  How do you think that makes me feel right at this moment?

It also has an enormous effect on my friends.  They feel they are just not important enough to me when I don't call.  They feel the burden of friendship with someone who they can't be around because it brings them down.  I don't think they're aware that I know how I effect those around me.  That because I care a great deal for them, I do not want to do that to them?

Shielding everyone I care about from the worst of the effects of depression, panic attacks and flashbacks is the only way I can keep going.  Why would I want to share that much despair and misery?  I hope I never turn into that kind of person.  They hurt and have to deal with enough as it is because of me and this incurable illness.  It's a mythical illness to most people, because they can not see or feel how you bleed inside.  Your wounds are not visible, therefore they are not real to them. 

If I have to battle it out with Nessie, then I would rather drag her to my doctor's office where she can't effect those people who are most important to me.  So yes.  It means they can't count on me when I am away at war, so to speak.  That hurts more than anyone could know, but you want to know what would be worse?  The idea that I would ever bring that war home with me.  No.  This is a battle where only I can see the enemy.  Therefore that enemy is as invisible to everyone else as if it were the Loch Ness Monster (only without the colorful and interesting myths surrounding it)

By the way, this does not mean I am deliberately isolating myself at home with no battle plan in mind... a backup battle plan... and even a backup for the backup battle plan.  It means that I am aware of the need to take care of 'me' so that I can go back to taking care of everyone else.  It is mentally tiring to avoid saying anything negative when I am at this point, so talking with family and friends about anything more important than 'what's for dinner?' becomes very difficult, if not impossible.  Those conversations I save for my therapist.  At least I try to, but there are still times when I can hear myself saying something and cringing in horror inside, but unable to stop the severe diarrhea of the mouth.  I sound bitter, angry, ugly, selfish, and the rest of the negative adjectives Mr. Webster ever published... and a few he probably never even considered.  I decided long ago that when telephone conversations became so stilted and mentally draining by the effort of not just breaking down and crying, it was best not to place the call in the first place.  It's also time to seek more time with the doctor and therapist.The effort to communicate also includes handling the labeling consequences.  The expression on people's faces when, for some reason, I have to explain to them why I am acting like someone just revoked my access to oxygen or I that I have PTSD is almost universal.  Their expressions say, "Oh, my God!  Is she going to go postal?" or "I knew there wasn't something right about her." or "Depression is contagious." If there is one thing I am sure of, it's that I am NOT insane, nor has it ever crossed my mind to hurt anyone (regardless of how irritating they are... although I might make an exception for the person who has been doing the 'snow dance' lately).  As for the "Depression is contagious"?  I'd have to agree with that one.  But it's also true that "Happiness is contagious." 

I think the best way to describe depression and PTSD to give others a frame of reference here is...  depression is like a cold of the mind instead of cold of the body.  If left untreated, it can turn into pneumonia of the mind.  And yes.  Just like this cold bug, untreated, it can eventually kill you.  Even when the worst of the battle is over, just like recuperating from any other severe, physical illness, it takes time to get back on your feet.  I have often wished that I would turn as blue as a Smurf when this hits, so that everyone can see I'm getting sick and then everyone can see when I am better. 

I am so very aware of the effect I have on my family, friends and the world around me, so it's important for me to heal from my invisible illness.  It is why I try to write of good things.  Happy things.  Humorous things.  There is not one person on this flipping planet that does not need something to smile, laugh or feel good about.  It is why I try to go out of my way especially when I am depressed to do something nice for someone else.  It doesn't only make them feel good.  It makes me feel like I can still share a smile, and that if I can do that, then I'm going to be ok.  It might take me a while, but I now know I am going to be ok.

[PS.  Most of my family and friends do not know about my writing outside of this blog, so I'm going to finally  link to a post over at SpouseBUZZ about the "Winter Blues" and depression in general I wrote a while ago.  I included some really great links about what depression IS and what it ISN'T.  And that is really where "Nessie" got her name...(and yes, I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner]

12 January 2013

The Most Amazing Discovery... Again...

OK. I admit, I should have known better than to just link this on Facebook instead of reposting it. "Not everyone has or wants a FB page."  I GET it. I GOT it! (and you're lucky I'm allowing you to remain anonymous... sheesh!) Everyone else gets a free pass to post new intelligent comments, even ones that take pot shots at social media websites...
So for 'she who will not be named':The Most Amazing Discovery...Email from Me to my Husband: Honey, I’ve made the most amazing discovery!  There are other homo sapiens like you (other than our kids) after all.  I am sure you are so relieved!  Just look!
From Laura of Fetch My Flying MonkeysJ is a freedom-hating-Michael Kors-loathing Nazi and here's proof.
J: "I want you to take my credit card on vacation with you. I want you to only use in it in case there's an emergency." Hands me a black card.
Me: "Sweeeeet."
J: "Umm Laura, an emergency only, okay?"
Me: "Okay." Fondles card. "My Preciousssss."
J: "Maybe we should go over what constitutes an emergency."
Me: "If I see a Michael Kors purse 50% or more off."
J: "No, Laura. I was thinking about if there's an emergency on the road traveling."
Me: "So we're driving down the road and there's a roadside stand and they're selling Michael Kors purses 50% or more off."
J: "No. Do not use it to buy a Michael Kors purse."
Me: "Okay. So we're driving down the road and there's a roadside stand selling otters, and for every otter you buy you get a free Michael Kors purse."
J: --
Me: "Two free Michael Kors purses per otter?"
J: "I'm not kidding, Laura. Use it for emergencies ONLY."
Me: "Like in case there's a zombie attack?"
J: Sighs. "Zombie attacks would constitute as an emergency, yes."
Me: "Like for buying weapons, right?"
J: "Yes, you can buy weapons on it in case of zombie attack."
Me: "And bullets? Lots of bullets?"
J: "Yes. In case of zombie attack you can use it for weapons and lots of bullets."
Me: "And a Michael Kors purse to keep the bullets in?"
J: "Give me my card back."
Me to Husband: Honey, I am also sending a copy of this post to our (five) daughters (who are convinced a zombie invasion is imminent) just to make sure they are prepared. Gotta tell them to make sure they get a Michael Kors purse to put the bullets in... then, it's not a purse, it's a supply chest... Right?
Husband: Who is Michael Kors, and will a purse made by him hold a chainsaw and/or M249 SAW magazine? How many nadgrenades can it hold? Are the seams double stitched so it won't spill my 12 gauge rounds while knocking down zombies with it?Me: What are nadgrenades?
Husband: Sorry typo on a small keyboard, insert hand grenades, either GP (general purpose) or white phosphorus...
purseMe: This one would be PERFECT!!!  MICHAEL KORS Darrington Shoulder Tote, Taupe  995.00
(That would be the amount of American dollars required to acquire said specimen. Zombies optional.) Since we have five daughters and myself... we'd need six of them... but wait!  It's taupe!  It would look fabulous with any of your fashionable desert camouflage wardrobe... In that case then, we would need 7 of these babies, please. Since you ARE currently stuck in Las Vegas, perhaps you could take advantage of the opportunity to earn a few extra dollars shakin' your bootie?
Love,
your wife and daughters...
Husband: Bootie? I think I broke it, however if you allow me to withdraw the mortgage money, I'm sure I can double it...
Me: Sigh.  Well, if your bootie is broken, perhaps you could rent yourself out as an executive level escort?  As for the mortgage money, no.  We really do need to buy these Michael Kor Handbags with money not already earmarked for current expenses.  This is strictly so that we can be ready for when the Zombies DO attack.  I do believe we will have a little time for you to work the magic of your sparkling personality.
Husband: I am too old for an "escort service".  I have thought about a side job as a thong model, perhaps some conservative right-wing loud mouth will pay me in a subtle reverse psychology attack on the male undergarment industry.
Me: A thong model? Hmmmm.  That sounds like it has potential... How soon do you think you could get started?  I, personally, would not pay for the thongs, but the pictures DO sound like they might have promise....
Husband: As soon as...
A. I can find one in green (of course).
B. Get limber enough to strut properly, probably not any time soon.
C. File the necessary environmental impact statement. It's Friday the day after a federal holiday, I'm sure the EPA is swamped.
Me: Why would you need an environmental impact statement?  Afraid to shock the squirrels?  Scare the bears?  Besides, I think you'll look much better in a thong than I will...
Husband: Not according to the maid…
Me: OK.  I guess I need to become resigned about our inability to fend off the zombies....
Husband: Just rethink the plan. We don't have children, we have 5 opportunities to distract them...
Me: Riiiiggght.  Unfortunately, "Don't worry... the zombies are looking for brains.  You're safe." only applies to our daughters and I really didn't want to have to sacrifice you like that... Sentimental reasons, you know.  Thirty years and you've kinda grown on me.  I have you trained almost to perfection.  Still... I guess a girl's gotta do what a girl’s gotta do...


Bookmark and Share
7 Intelligent Comments:
Mrs. Who said...
We don't have children, we have 5 opportunities to distract them...
Damn...we've already sent two of ours off...down to two distractions!
Y'all crack me up! :)
November 12, 2010 10:54 PM
VW said...
I was snickering until I hit this line: Still... I guess a girl's gotta do what a girl’s gotta do...
and then I laughed out loud. You two are originals.
November 13, 2010 6:02 AM
LeeAnn said...
If H ever wanted to email, we'd have conversations like that. Probably with more cussing, but that's just us.
I love it.
November 13, 2010 8:32 AM
Lemon Stand said...
"I just read your conversation with your husband (notice "not my brother"), I am pretty sure Mom said the mold was broken after he was born so there really can't be another one like him. Really!~ Me" ~ my SIL, whom I shall let remain anonymous (although you DO realize he sometimes DOES read my posts when he's really bored... or needs a sleep aid...) ~ If the mold was broken 'after he was born', then it sure looks like someone glued it back together... LS
Mrs. Who - one can always live in hope that the zombie invasion won't begin until there is some sort of family get together... just so you can make full use of all your opportunities...
VW - I DO love him dearly. However, I know that he feels the exact same sentiment. So in his words, "It's a dog eat dog world, and we're all wearing milk bone underwear."
LeeAnn - Ah, but I have to admit that most of our conversations have to be edited. Cuss words are not left unheard of in this house.(the decibel level of which, is an indicator of how well a building or repair project is going for my husband) In most of our cases, it is the realm of depths to which EVERYONE in the family can sink to... with the husband as an example or the instigator of how such an achievement can be reached. I used to think he had warped our kids... now I just realize that through some fluke of nature, they only got all of HIS DNA. :)
November 13, 2010 9:52 AM
Andy said...
Ain't it grand to be hitched to a friend?
Thanks for the glimpse.
Seriously, thanks. That put a big smile on my ugly old mug this morning.
November 13, 2010 10:58 AM
Felicitas Linda said...
LMAO That was Epic!
November 13, 2010 3:28 PM
Lemon Stand said...
Andy - you are most welcome... I take it you have a problem with an ugly old mug in the morning? Man... you should really have yourself a pretty nap at least once a day... I hear it improves your condition... just sayin' :)
Linda - The unedited version was even better, but alas... I'm attempting to keep this blog family friendly.... for families that are obviously other than mine...
Still, You all have missed the perfect opportunity to go read a post at Laura's blog... I DID put the link in. Really. I really love to lurk there. (Just don't eat or drink while reading... oh, and I guess I must also warn you that breathing while reading her blog has proven to be a health hazard for me... can't laugh, snort, cough and breath at the same time... guess I'm a failure at multi-tasking...)
November 13, 2010 8:51 PM
 reposted from 10 Nov 2010




18 November 2012

The Pillow Story...

Since being reminded that my husband will, again, be going back to the sandbox, I thought I'd repost a story about one of the other times he has gone there. This time the travel won't be quite as luxurious, but I couldn't help hoping that if he HAS to be on the advon team, then I hope they at least get to stop in Sioux Falls, South Dakota...

Sunday, October 29, 2006


The Pillow Story....

I have been reminded that I have yet to tell "The Pillow Story." So here it is:

The day DH left home for Iraq was very stressful for all of us. If all the changes to his orders were holes, his final copy would be swiss cheese. So after finally getting to the airport, he and Mr. T (another member of his unit) were treated to 2 1/2 hours of sitting on the runway awaiting liftoff. The bad news was that they only had a 40 minute layover at another busy airport where they were suppose to catch a different flight. The good news was the their tickets had been stamped with some kind of code that told the stewardess that they were servicemen bound for Iraq....so all drinks were on the house...so liftoff was slightly achieved before the plane left the ground.

They get to the next airport and low and behold their transfer plane is still waiting for them! On to the next plane they go....and wait another hour on the runway waiting for clearance (still with free beverages)....HOPING there would be someone on the other end to pick them up at the airport because at this point in their journey they had a Hotel reservation at the Sheraton, in Sioux Falls, South Dakota for what was left of their last night on US soil.

Their luck held out and there was someone from the base who apparently deposited gently, two service members seriously in need of a pillow.

At some point DH realized that he had forgotten to pack one thing in his luggage....A pillow. So he got up the next morning intending to find a place within walking distance to find a pillow and get some breakfast. So he asks a Sheraton employee if there was a store close enough to buy a pillow. She suggests he check with housekeeping. She gives him directions to their office and off he goes.

After explaining his dilema to housekeeping, they tell him that will be $60. Ummmm. He wasn't about to pay that much for a pillow bound for a sand pit. So he politely declines the offer and sets out again, once more, for the dining facilities.

Upon reaching his destination he encounters the first employee who immediately asked if housekeeping could help him. He told her of the conversation and thanked her for trying and did she know of any stores nearby who might sell pillows. She said she would ask around as to the best source and get back to him.

So he sat down and had breakfast. Went to gather up his things for the shuttle and then to the front desk to settle his bill. There, behind the counter was a King Size FEATHER pillow with pillow case in a plastic covering. The three ladies responsible for it had 'reallocated' it for the war effort.

Darned if DH didn't squeeze that thing into luggage that didn't even have room to scream. Once he got to Iraq, he wrote the Hotel manager of the wonderful service provided by his hotel and in particular these three ladies. (I don't think he mentioned the pillow reallocation :o)

If you EVER get a chance to go to scenic Sioux Falls, stay at the Sheraton and ask for Pam, Gina or Nikki. Tell them from me...."Thank you!"


QOTD: "The everyday kindness of the back roads more than makes up for the acts of greed in the headlines." Charles Kuralt (1934-1997) Folksy CBS newsman whose reports from the small towns and back roads of America endeared him to millions

22 August 2012

Notes Confirming Life As We Know It Is Back To Normal...

Although I have not been able to do much in the way of blogging this past week, I have been gathering various sticky notes, note pads and receipts that I tend to write on, to capture wonderful family moments. Note to self: make notes more descriptive so I can be more accurate in the details.

I cannot remember exactly when my husband was talking to Erin, but it was not too long after he first got home.  The conversation went something like this (see above note to self about notes):

Husband, "Remind me NEVER to go to war with you. I can hear you now:"

"I can't go into that foxhole, it's too dirty."

"Whoa! Time Out!!! My pack is too heavy, I couldn't possibly be expected to carry it AND march, hike or whatever."

"But, I don't know how to set up a tent... Come to think of it though, we're Air Force... we can just call room service, right?"

Husband, "And if you were a superhero? Your power would be whining at the bad guys until they died just to get away from you."

"Your superhero alias would be Goldilocks:"

"My porridge is too hot. My porridge is too cold..."

Erin, "I really hate you right about now."

QOTD: "Newspaper ad:  Hiring clowns, must be serious." ~ Unknown

13 July 2012

Sometimes The Odd Thoughts Seem Hilarious...

It may be because my husband has been deployed and hence the wit is out of country... 

It may be because dinner conversation is just not the same without him here (see above)... 

It may be because Murphy has lived at our house lately (see above)...

It may be because I have five daughters who take after their father (see above)... 

It may be because I am finally losing my marbles (see above)...

It may be because I found a few scraps of paper I had written on recently that were supposed to have reminded me of something to blog about... but my memory has left on vacation (see above)...

Still, the notes seem funny to me, wish I could only remember what they were about:
Some Things In Life Are Technically Possible... But Not Recommended.

Not feasible, not reasonable, not realistic... this generation's 3Rs.
I dreamt of flying monkeys and zombies.

I can't sleep but I sure can dream.

My husband came home three days ago which means, "Hello wit and humor!  Welcome Home!!!"

Life is good.  :)

14 May 2012

To Look Back And Laugh...

I've been thinking about all the horrendous and spectacular disasters that have peppered our lives.  My husband's and mine, that is.  I have realized that over the years, I've become pretty good at trying to find the silver lining... and most of the time, it's because it's seems hilarious now that it is a good distance in the past.

There was the time a 6 foot snake in our laundry room ended up in his own 'spin' cycle. There was the time that natural disasters seemed to follow us around the world.  In the span of about three years there were three major hurricanes, a volcanic eruption, earthquakes, a tsunami, and a typhoon that completely destroyed our house.  (My father-in-law told us (mostly kidding) that we could not come home until our relationship with disasters changed.  Can't say I blamed him.)

Actually, if I go far enough back (and forward), we've also survived floods, hail, blizzards, ice storms, and tornadoes.  There was the time we played the game of hide and seek with a rat and we all lost in a rather gruesome fashion. See (only if you are not drinking or eating anything... hmmm, maybe I should also warn you that you might not want to be at work... or a library?)  Resurrection of the "I'll See You the Flu During a PCS and Raise You an Online Hotel Reservation that Turned Out to be a Drug Den" Military Poker Game...

Lately our vehicles are either engaging in unhealthy relationships or just plain committing suicide on us.  (Husband, daughter and a date with a tree and ALL our vehicles dying the week after the husband leaves them behind for sandier climes?) I must remind myself of the possible silver linings here... After all, the search for replacement vehicles could have me sitting back and watching while the rest of the family uses dead bodies as a unit of measure needed in their requirements for trunk space. Seriously. After you read memories like that or rather in my case, remember memories like that, how could I NOT laugh?  The realization that there are actually very few events in my life that I can't look back on with humor, always gives me hope.  I can not predict the future, nor can I change the past but I can invite the memories over for a 'movie night'.  All I'll need is a little popcorn and soda.  (to be ingested only during commercials and intermissions)  :)


http://www.doityourself.com/stry/rosebushcare

QOTD: "God gave us memories that we might have roses in December." ~ J. M. Barrie, Courage - 1922