Treasures and Time off

I hope everyone had a pleasant Thanksgiving. We enjoyed both a nice overnight stay with our families and some time away from the kids who stayed with my parents an extra couple of nights after we left. As much as we love the kiddos, it is always nice to have a break. We are lucky to get that opportunity with some regularity. I head down to pick them up this afternoon and on the way home we are going to listen to more of Madeleine L’Engle read her novel, A Wrinkle in Time. It is my all-time favorite book and R’s first time hearing it. I’m tickled she wants to hear more (we only listened to part of it on the way down) and I really love to hear the late, great Ms. L’Engle read her own words. I enjoy hearing the author’s interpretation of what they wrote—I like to know how they heard what they wrote as they wrote it. Plus, for me, I just feel such a connection to her, that it’s a treat to her her voice.

I digress. We had a lovely time at Auntie L and Uncle D’s for Thanksgiving dinner. We hung out with Grammie and Auntie S & Uncle Fungus and got to see how much little E has grown since he stayed with us this summer. The four bigger cousins: R, C, A, and Monkey all ran around together like good cousins do, with very little tattling, fighting, or arguing which is always a bonus. Earlier in the day I had brought over the furry kids, CaseyJones and Zoe, to play with their cousin Ayla. We wanted to wear them out so they would sleep while we ate copious amounts of meat. It worked like a charm. They ran around playing fetch and they wrestled and Zoe and Ayla cut each other off from water and people, trying to prove who had the better position in their temporary pack. I was amused to watch Zoe cutting off Ayla from Casey who apparently is only allowed to be tormented by Zoe. Ayla, a beautiful German Shepherd, is the youngest, but as big as Casey who is an adult male Lab, with Zoe, coming in a close third size-wise. But my girl is tough and liked to remind Ayla that she was the elder of the two. There wasn’t any real fighting, but a fair amount of teeth showing and warning growls. Luckily, all of them are smart and good listeners so nothing ever went too far. All in all they were great dogs and they were definitely tuckered out.

After dinner, R and I went over to visit with my side of the family for dessert (not that I could eat anything, I was so full). We got to visit with some of my cousins who live even farther away than I do, which was fantastic. I’m pretty close to my cousins and always miss them even if I’m lousy at letting them know. The next generation of cousins all ran around screeching and giggling and singing like a band of pixies on crack…or frosted cupcakes as the case may be. In any event, it was good to see my family even if it was for a short time. We’ll see them again around Christmas when we head down one more time before K leaves the country.

Before we came home to enjoy the quiet, we stopped over at my grandfather’s house so K could visit with him too since he didn’t get to the night before (not that we could have heard a conversation over the screaming mimi’s). I loved to hear his stories especially the one when he was a young boy hitching a ride on the bread guy’s horse-drawn cart. Stories he told of my great-grandmother’s brushes with death always amaze me : on her way over from Greece on a freighter carrying marble, the cargo broke loose during a storm and ripped a hole in the ship, forcing the passengers into lifeboats for 2 days; and a few years later, when my grandfather was very small, their landlord set the house on fire for the insurance money but blocked the main way out causing my great-grandparents to make a jump from their house to the house next door. It always makes me pause to consider how many different times our family could have ceased to exist. I’m glad all my grandparents were so tough.

Those great stories weren’t the only treasures we got to leave with. Oh, no! My grandfather’s tenant recently passed away and apparently he was a hoarder. While his family did take care of most of what he left behind, my grandfather held on to a good chunk of the guy’s cigar box collection. The boxes are not really worth much, but for some of us, it was like Christmas come early to get to poke around and find the most unusual or useful of the many varieties. I, personally (and R, too) love wooden boxes and I if I hadn’t shown some restraint would have come home with several more than I did. Here are the ones K and I chose to bring home and eventually put to use:

I loved the shape of the inside of the box in the upper left of the picture:

It is rounded on the outside to accommodate rounder, more natural cigars.

This next one I was so excited to find among the boxes my mom had. It’s going to be my new art supply box for when I start my drawing class next week.

I love that it has all the different compartments. I don’t particularly care that the box isn’t in mint condition because it will be so useful to me. All my different pencils and erasers and sharpeners will fit beautifully in here.

I suspect I’ll be using at least one box to hold letters from K should he decide to send any while he’s away. And I might keep one for the various little things the kids make for me. I love to put things away to find later and reminisce over and these cigar boxes are perfect.

K and I have had a very mellow weekend without the kids. We slept in, started (and almost finished) watching Generation Kill, food shopped, sat in front of the fire, I went for tea with B again, K and I went to dinner, and we just generally took advantage of the quiet. I should have enough peace stored up to last me at least the drive back after picking up the kids. I’m glad one holiday is down and just one more to go. I’ve got lots of organizing to do for Christmas and even more freelance work to do before the end of the year. Fitting it all in should be quite the juggling act. We’ve got one more short time with K being gone, and then we all need to get into longer-term mind-sets of separate lives after the new year. It’s a lot to contemplate, so I’m thankful we’ve had this little quiet before the storm.

 

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Gobble Gobble!

There was a turkey loose in my back yard yesterday. He tried to make a break for it, but I caught him…on film anyway.

There’s no getting away, little turkey!

Happy Thanksgiving, everyone. I’ll be off for a couple of days visiting family and friends.  Hope you will be too.

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Familiar ground

Lots to catch up on again—I decided to take a little time off from writing to readjust to having K. home for this short break. Some things were easier to adjust to than others. I’m just not good at shifting gears repeatedly or in quick succession. Needless to say, I make things complicated. For instance, on the one hand, I don’t want to get out of the practice of doing everything myself, but on the other hand, I don’t really want to do everything by myself. Even though I find it difficult to let go of my need to control the universe, I think we’ve been fairly balanced about the household chores and kid wrangling so far. K is as much of a neat freak as I am and he knows how to cook and manage the kids perfectly well, so I have no complaints there. I really am trying to enjoy the relative normalcy, but it is hard for me to be in the moment when I need to continue planning for future abnormal moments. Buddha I am not.

I did take advantage of K. being home and wanting to spend time with the kids, though. Saturday I took a much needed break from the house and escaped for adult conversation and chai with my friend, B. We are definitely two peas in a pod. I am glad she is around to help me stay sane this winter. Or maybe I’ll bring her over to the dark side and we’ll be insane together. Either way, I’ll have company and that can’t be a bad thing! Luckily, too, we live close enough that even if it snows a ton, we can always snowshoe to each others’ place. If we didn’t live at the North Pole, I wouldn’t even consider it, but after a couple winters’ worth of 8 feet of snow, it’s a factor. Winter accentuates the hermit in me, but I am excited at the prospect of having someone to be semi-anti-social with and I totally expect us to end up being like Statler and Waldorf from the Muppets by the time Spring rolls around.

Speaking of warm weather activities, Monkey has been somewhat obsessed with camping out lately, and it’s definitely too cold to actually do outside, so Saturday night I went out and picked up a cheap little 2-man tent for him. Yesterday we rearranged his room so that the tent would fit under his loft bed and still leave plenty of room for all his other stuff. I officially would love to be Monkey. He has the coolest room in the house. K. gave him an old sleeping bag of his and Monkey swiped a flashlight or two, so he and R. have been camping out. The good thing with that, even on school nights, is that Monkey wakes up early and will force R. to as well so I won’t have to. He’s my own little alarm clock. I just wish he had a snooze button on the weekends.

Just in time for the holidays, I’ve made the executive decision that it’s time to get back to losing weight. I’m not the heaviest I’ve ever been, and I have no inclination to see that particular number again either, but the yo-yo is on its way in that direction. So it’s time to lay off the Oreos—reduced fat though they are—and get back to the business of moving around more than not and not absentmindedly eating kid leftovers. This would also be the time I need to dig deep and recover my motivation to make this and about 10 other things happen. My motivation is quite the elusive, fair-weather friend who goes on vacation regularly. Like Peter Pan’s shadow, it needs to be sewn on me so that I will stop misplacing it. Even velcro would be fine because then I can stick it somewhere else when I need a break from it. Needless to say, if I’m going to be counting calories, points and/or repetitions, I had better start looking for my motivation under some rocks asap.

Actually, today is the day I get organized for the next couple of months and square myself away. It’s going to be hectic between holidays and K. traveling so much between here and there. He’s not going to be around to help with Christmas things, and the snow will no doubt be falling sooner than I would like. I’ve got my next art class starting up early next month and need to square away babysitters and class supplies. I also don’t want to start the new year without an idea how I’m going to work on my personal goals for the next several months. I would like my mantra to be something other than “I’m late! I’m late! For a very important date!” It would be a change of pace. So, the word of the day, dear readers, is “proactive.”

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Little things

Thanksgiving is approaching and I am generally not one of those people who gets particularly sappy about the holiday. Of course I am thankful for the big things: family, friends I can count on, good health, my relative sanity, the Internets (and all the many devices that connect me to it), and a roof over my head. All important items on the “To be thankful for” list.  But it’s not Thanksgiving yet, so I’m not going to wax poetic at this time—possibly not this year even. I try as best I can to be thankful for them daily and not just trot them out once a year.

Instead, I am going to count some of the little things I’m thankful for, though, that maybe don’t get the press they deserve. In fact, I might just make this type of list a semi-regular event so I remember to pay attention to them.

1. Playing tag and hide-and-go-seek with Monkey while we wait for his school bus. We hide in the same places every time but he’s always surprised to be found and we always laugh like it’s the first time. It’s becoming my favorite part of the day.

2. Zoe sleeping at my feet every night. She is so warm and my feet are always so damn cold. She was meant for me.

3. A clear night sky. Living in the country has made star gazing one of my favorite things. We have very little light pollution in our neighborhood, so it’s “Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star” on a regular basis. Finally, the longer hours of darkness have a perk.

4. My Tuesday morning trips to the cafe for a Chai Latte. It might not be Calgon, but it’s a close second.

5. Reduced fat Oreos. Why isn’t there a diet based around these? They go with everything. I know because I’ve tested the theory.

Any other items on this list would reveal just how big a fangirl and/or geek I am, and really, no one needs to know the full extent of that.

Thanks, little things!

If anyone would like to share some little things they are thankful for, please do! (And no quoting Bull Durham‘s list either—that’s cheating!)

 

 

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What’s knocking around my noggin

I wish I could bottle whatever it was that made me so productive the last few days because it was a beautiful thing. Not only did I get several tasks accomplished and crossed off my list that normally would sit there undone for days, but I was able to think—and finish—several thoughts which is damn near unheard of around here in the land of chatty children. On Sunday, R. and I cleaned the house. I cleaned things I haven’t looked at since we moved in almost 2 years ago. Cleaning that much is not my normal routine. I do function better in a clean house so I try to keep it that way, but Sunday’s cleaning was a bit excessive even for me. I guess I needed to keep my hands busy so my brain could do its thing. I don’t think I’ve ever been more grateful for Clorox Wipes and orange cleaner.

Many things worked their way through my noggin as I scrubbed the stove and oven—some short story ideas that my never see the light of day, design ideas for a couple of jobs I’m doing—but chief among them was how to approach things here at Gainfully Deployed as we get deeper into this journey. My goals for writing this are to be honest about what goes on at home during a deployment and find the positive at the end of the day. While I have no intention of lying, I am not sure how forthcoming I want to be in a public forum like this either. Every life has its ups and downs and every relationship has one issue or another, but I think those problems are exacerbated and a whole set of new problems arise by being part of the military. It’s that part I want to get across to people who may not really understand or have even thought about it, plus I want to get past them myself with a fair amount of grace, and writing is what helps me work through problems. I think finding the balance between enlightening and TMI is going to be tricky though.  I value my privacy very much, but I also want to dissuade people of the notion that everything is right with the world again when a soldier returns home. If that were the case, I would not bother writing this blog because there would be nothing to learn.

Some days I resent this life attached to the military and other days I’m grateful for it. Nothing is purely good or evil and this is no different. I, personally, don’t enjoy living contradictions, but it seems that this time in my life is chock full of them, and reconciling everything in a positive light takes work and a whole lot of diligence. Being apart during a deployment changes everyone involved and when you come back together you have to hope that the new people you have become can at the very least peacefully co-exist with the intent to grow together in the future. I can tell you from past experience that the coming back together is the hardest part of any deployment, and I would be lying if I didn’t say it is the part that concerns me the most in all this. We still haven’t finished adjusting from K’s return from Iraq 4 years ago, and from talking to my friends from that time, I know we are not the only ones.

So why is all of this on my mind now when the deployment is just starting? K. is due home later this week and even though he’s only been gone a few weeks, there is still a mini-adjustment we have to go through on top of keeping the momentum of our new routine for when he is gone. He’ll only be home for a short time before leaving again and as much as I’m glad he gets to be with us even for a little while, I find these stops and starts difficult. If he were going to be home on leave and not have to work, or even if he were coming home and not leaving again, I might feel differently, but he’s going to be very busy with final preparations for his unit and not really available to help the way he normally would. It’s tougher on the kids than it is for me because I can control my expectations somewhat better, but these in-between times are just not normal. I know all of this leans on the negative side of things, but it’s really just background information. Putting life in context, so to speak.

Today is today though, and I’m going to enjoy the sunny, crisp, Fall day. I’m going to take Monkey to his OT session and have a chai at the cafe downstairs and relax for a change. I might work on those short stories or I might bring my colored pencils and do some drawing. When Monkey heads to school this afternoon, I’m going to focus and plow through some work that’s been on my plate for a while and then I’m going to help the kids with their homework when they get home and then I’m going to enjoy a quiet night with my dogs and sleep well. You really can’t ask for more than that.

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Plague, Possums, and Birthdays all around

Looks like the plague disrupted my writing plans again. I had a symptom a day ranging from chills to ear ache to headache. I can’t decide if having everything at once would have been preferable. I suppose it would have been more efficient. I will say that taking Lysine seems to have tipped the scale so that no one symptom lasted long. Either way, happy to not be feeling icky today. Of course being sick put me behind in just about everything, so this weekend is all about catching up and moving ahead.

In the on-going gang war between my dogs and a local opossum, you can finally score 1 for Casey and Zoe. We’ve had a run-in with said possum before, and the last couple of times the possum (with a little help from me) bested my pups. The first occasion ended with the possum playing—you guessed it—possum and faking all of us out. When K. went out to dispose of “the body” it was high-tailing it across the street. The other night I went to bring the dogs in for the night and there was a whole lot of barking going on at the side of the yard and sure enough, there was a (or the) possum just outside the electric fence range mocking Zoe. She was not pleased. Casey was at least interested but was perfectly happy coming back to me for some plain old treats. That is only because the possum was not a quilled, slow-moving, animal whose capture would result in a $250 vet visit and a week of antibiotics. The other morning, I was pulling into the driveway and to the left of our barn I thought I saw something that could have been a piece of a broken birch limb that the dogs liked to run around with. I figured I’d go put it back on the wood pile. Instead, I found (finally) dead possum. I have no idea of the possum corpse was the result of a revenge killing, or a gift from an admirer. Either way, I left it there for an overnight just to make sure it was really dead. It is. The dogs have ignored it but I no longer can. Tomorrow morning, if it’s not raining, I’ll head out and be a big girl and dispose of the body. It’ll be my first cover-up! I can’t wait.

Of course, I could learn to strip the carcass and make some possum fur birthday slippers for one of the many men in my life who shared a birthday yesterday. I’m not entirely sure who would appreciate them more: my grandfather, who at 93 would be dazzled at my skinning and sewing skills (especially since I was the kid who could never cut the live crab in half to use as bait when we went fishing); my oldest cousin who would appreciate the originality of the gift and at least model them for me before hiding them in his closet for eternity; or DG who would gladly take them and re-gift them to DS later as a joke, which is exactly what I would do.

As I said, my grandfather turned 93 yesterday. I love my Papou. He’s still spry and sharp and all-around awesome. He knows something about everything but he’s not a know-it-all. He is always curious and we know this because he likes to tap on walls to see what’s hiding behind them. As kids we were not allowed to wake Papou up from a nap because it was suicide. My cousin, S., thought that memo was crap, apparently. He only ever ignored it once though.When Star Wars originally came out in the theaters we told Papou he should go see it and he told us he’d wait until it came on TV… we told him that was never going to happen. Papou has always been all-knowing as you can see. Back when he had the restaurant (we’re Greek, we always have a restaurant somewhere in our past), I would go have a grilled cheese with tomato whenever possible. It’s still my favorite sandwich and favorite comfort food. I especially liked to walk over after school (my middle school was a block away) and visit him on my own because he always made time for me. And Mondays, which was his day off, he and my grandmother would come visit and I always looked forward to it. Papou outside of the restaurant was pretty novel when I was little. During my marriage, my grandfather has provided my husband with a range of weaponry that sadly, I have not let through the front door of my house. Papou likes K. apparently, otherwise, no doubt the various knives and such would remain in the treasure trove that is his basement. I love that basement and it’s clutter. If you can’t find what you need in there, you really just don’t need it. You know you love someone when even their crazy basement is a source of enjoyment. And that’s my Papou: a crazy assortment of amazing stuff.

Today was a pretty good day for me and the kiddos as we wait for K. to get home at the end of this coming week to wrap up part 1b of this deployment. We made a library run, a shopping trip to Target for various and sundries, and then tonight R. went to a “Girl’s Night” at her dojo, and I took Monkey on a date to see Astroboy. I love that he can finally sit through a movie without being a complete looney. And now, to finish this satisfying day, I’m going to hang out and watch episodes 4-6 of Generation Kill and snuggle with my slightly damp puppies.

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Girlie

Last time K. deployed, R. was 3—almost 4—and oh, was it a nightmare being the one at home with her. Poor kid was just a wreck and too young to understand really what was happening and unable to communicate everything that was going on in her head. Well, she did communicate it, but as is typical of her age at the time, she expressed herself through tantrums, grudges, and attitude: the “Evil Axis” of toddlerhood. We did not have fun for that year. We were both on a steep learning curve and it was just painful. Every day was painful. I don’t think I’ve ever fought with anyone the way I did my pixie-faced little girl that year. I felt quite often that I was failing her as a parent because I was spread so thin and all I wanted to do was lay down in my room and sleep like the dead for a few decades. There was no way she could understand what I was going through and I couldn’t expect her to. Not that it made my life any easier or her to deal with, of course.

There is something to be said for older kids in times of difficulty. Sure they are prone to drama or utter silliness, but at least for the most part, you can reason with them. Since they were babies, I could not wait for my kids to get to the point where I could use logic to influence their behavior. When logic works with small kids, it’s like getting exactly what you wanted for Christmas. I have finally (mostly) hit that point with R. and getting her prepared for this deployment was far easier than I had expected. I was finally able to explain to her what I would be going through (more or less) and what my vast responsibilities were throughout this and she was also able to recognize that when she helps me, I’m less on edge and we tend to have more fun together and I can be the affectionate parent she needs. You have to love those “Eureka!” moments.

Over the weekend, I was sure I was coming down with the kid plague (I started to have chills and aches and a tickle in my throat–I’m still not sure I’m out of the woods) and I warned her that 1.) we were going to finish our chores ASAP while I felt relatively ok; and  2.) that I was going to rest for a while after we were done so I could hopefully stop getting sick. To her credit, R. cleaned her bathroom, her bedroom, helped with the laundry and dogs, and played with Monkey to keep him out of my hair so I could finish things up around the house—all with little to no nudging on my part. She even made me a “Get Well Soon” card. So in return for her help we had her favorite meal (tacos) and she and I watched a movie together in my room which both kids know is a treat. I felt a whole lot of relief that she was no longer an angry 4 year-old.

If these past several days are any indication, my girl has definitely grown up and I could not be more thankful. I set her up with her own email account a long time ago so she could contact her Dad whenever she wanted. Knowing how frustrating it was for her last time being unable to talk to him, I think it’s very important that she have some control over how she deals with this deployment and communication is really the only aspect available. And as I have been trying to get through to her the last few days, even communication isn’t easily controllable. Sure, she can write to him whenever she wants (which is the most important part), but he can not always reply quickly, and even if he’s online he can’t always chat with her. That is a lesson that is going to take time to really understand. I’m still getting used to it myself. She is on the same path I was on that first deployment: never far from a computer and always hoping he’ll be there. Having those moments of connecting with someone so far away is like a drug. And those random moments of successful communication are the greatest positive reinforcements ever—like playing a slot machine. Sometimes you win big, so you keep trying. Computer use is still somewhat novel for her, so on top of having a very good reason to use it, I can see the addiction starting. I’m trying to curb that in her, but I’m not the best example either of moderation. My computer is always on and I’m not far from it unless I have to be. I use it for work though too, so I have an excuse, but I also just enjoy it.

I’m sure R. and I will butt heads throughout this deployment—she is a master button-pusher after all—but I have faith in her ability to be a good kid and to look out for me sometimes too. I couldn’t ask for a better partner in crime throughout this deployment, really. You can’t underestimate the power of a shared experience like this and as difficult as it could be for us, I know she and I will come out on the other side with a greater appreciation for each other.

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Get the funk out

Looks like I have some catching up to do. I wasn’t expecting to have “one of those” weeks right off the bat, but there it was. It was as if instead of the planets and/or stars aligning, black holes and antimatter fell into place. Of course, that’s a little melodramatic, but there was definitely a convergence of craptastical stuff going on. Between sick kids, trying to remain germ free myself, hormones, excessive amounts of Halloween candy, and working out the mechanics of single parenting again, I pretty much just checked out.

About all I was good for this week was wiping noses, pouring juice, doling out medicine, snuggling, reading, eating cake & candy, and staying up too late. I just couldn’t seem to think or be proactive no matter how much I wanted to. You’d think I’d be happy to do not much, but I wasn’t. It’s not me. The kids were quiet for a change and didn’t need me constantly, but they needed me often enough, plus I was checking on their symptoms regularly, so I just couldn’t accomplish anything that was going to take longer than 10 minutes. I can’t tell you how many times I even started to write, but I just couldn’t throw together a coherent sentence. Weeks like this are mentally exhausting for me because I spend so much time having inner arguments about getting up off my butt and doing something instead of cutting myself slack and recognizing that these lapses don’t ever really last long. While it goes on though, I feel like I’m slogging through a foggy swamp.

On the upside, the house managed to stay neat (not clean–I do have two dogs after all), the laundry did get done if not folded and put away, and no one died. I’m calling this week a win regardless of all the things I didn’t do. Like leave the house for 5 days. I guess you can throw cabin fever into the mix up there too. Heard from K. who is enjoying his training oddly enough, had a visit from a friend bearing beef which is always a bonus, heard from a colleague from my days in publishing which was awesome, I read some great short stories written by friends of mine, plus, I started watching Generation Kill via Netflix and it’s fantastic.

Once I had kids, I suddenly had a hard time watching war movies which, normally, I really enjoy. Part of the reason K. and I got together in the first place is my love of military history. I think now that the kids are older and I nurture somewhat differently and not constantly, I’m not as wigged out by the idea of death and destruction. So back to war movies I go.  Generation Kill is about a Marine Recon unit during the first days of the Iraq invasion. I don’t know that I could have watched this while K. was over there last deployment (not that it was out at the time anyway…), but it’s not a problem now. Even though K. is not in the Marines, there is enough similarity that some things about it just felt familiar to me. The griping soldiers I don’t think are much different across branches of the military. The humor among the men wasn’t unfamiliar either. When you live among soldiers long enough, you hear their stories a million times and you start to understand pretty quickly how they think and what they bond over. And now that there aren’t any soldiers in my house, watching Generation Kill felt oddly comforting, I guess. The miniseries is based on a book of the same name by Rolling Stone reporter, Evan Wright and I may just go pick it up at the library later. The type of writing he did at the time—magazine feature writing—is what I’ve gone to college and grad school for and what I have wanted to do since I knew writing was my calling. Seeing the process in action is always a neat thing to me and what also attracted me to the tv show.

As if quality tv weren’t enough, I was also treated to Monkey going back to school yesterday which allowed me to get out of the house for a couple hours to do some food shopping as well as sing loudly in the car. Blissfully by myself. Today we clean the house and head over to the library for a bit and maybe the park to air out. Things are finally back to a version of normal I prefer.

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Early Dark

I can’t say I’m remotely fond of the early darkness that comes with Daylight Savings. However, we had a beautiful moonrise last night. Would you like to see it?

I wish I were just a bit better with my camera (or felt like tinkering in Photoshop) because the color was really beautiful. Maybe I’ll put photography lessons on my master list.

And here’s Luna (or Moona as Monkey likes to call her) a little closer up:

He asked if he could catch her and I think someday he just might.

Today I kept both kids home from school. Monkey is definitely not himself and R. is just shaking off the last of her cold. Fevers are gone, coughs are intermittent. I suspect I’ll be keeping Monkey home again tomorrow to rest. He just looked exhausted even though he insisted I chase him at one point today. I know he’s not public ready yet because he curled up on my lap a half hour before bedtime and didn’t really move, although he did complain I was kissing his noggin too much. Hopefully one more day of rest will get him back on track. He was back to eating today which was good and I think between a couple of meals and a bath, he felt better. I am glad he’s on the mend because I didn’t want to take either of us to a doctor’s office so we can leave with more than we walked in with.

Needless to say, today was relatively quiet. K. did call to check in finally and let me know that there is pretty much no cell coverage and even less internet at the base where he is for training. He happened to be “in civilization” this morning and called because he could. He talked to the kids and we caught up on the germs and visits and how everyone is getting along on his end. It was good to talk to him even for a little while. After Yaya and Papa left for home, the kids and I did the lunch thing and then we all went to our rooms to rest for a little while. R. listened to the CD version of Magyk by Angie Sage and Monkey played some games on nickjr.com while I reclaimed my room and moved the dogs beds back in with me. After dinner I sent R. in for her shower and she made my night by also doing a load of laundry. This deployment is definitely better than last time. She’s a good girl, that one. I might just post-pone her indentured servitude to the local gypsy tribe after all. We settled in for some anime and snuggling and all was right with the world. Well, mostly right. Right enough for us, anyway.

Got a call this afternoon from a good friend of mine from my dog daycare days while I was puttering around. She had to put one of her dogs, Deva, down this weekend. She is the second of my good friends to have to do that in the last 2 days. My heart broke for each of them. I can’t think of many things more devastating than making the decision (no matter how right it is) to end the life of a loved one. Auntie K’s Deva was one of the dogs we had Zoe meet when we first got her so she could socialize with stable dogs. Deva was the most solid and well-mannered Rottie I’d ever known and I will miss her and her very no-nonsense attitude. She and CaseyJones were good buddies too and she was just a great dog. So was my friend D’s dog, Quinn—another handsome black furry boy like my own. Every time I visited them, Quinn and Peanut, their other dog, were not shy about soliciting scratches and pets from me and I loved it, of course. I’m glad I got to see him this past Spring. He’s in good company now which makes me feel better about the whole thing.

This all really hit home for me today because at the beginning of the last deployment I had to put down our dog, Ike. I wish I could say he was fondly remembered by anyone other than myself, but he had issues and was not the perfect dog by any stretch of the imagination and I know that. I loved him though and he was there for me during some really tough times and I can’t forget that. Putting him down was harder than saying good-bye to K. when he left for Iraq. Ike was not coming back, but there was a pretty good chance K. was. While not having a crazy dog during that deployment really was a good thing, I am so grateful to have my two furry hooligans this time around. I feel totally naked without Casey and Zoe nearby on a normal day, and I would truly feel much more alone with K. being gone if I didn’t have them. One more check mark in the “win” column for this deployment.

And now? Just me, a stack of books, some music, Zoe at my feet, and clean sheets. Things could be worse.

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Sick or Treat

It didn’t take long for something to happen after K. left. Nothing like getting things out of the way early. Luckily for the kids Trick or Treating happens a day earlier in our town (why, I’m really not sure) otherwise they would not have made it out the door. Given how excited Monkey was this year to go candy begging, I would have been heart-broken for him to have missed it. He had a blast being Dash from The Incredibles, and his big sister was an “eraser” or assassin from her newest favorite anime, Black Cat. Of course not one single person around here would have known it, but she looked pretty close to the mark minus her hair. Hey, she was pretty happy with it, and I’m just glad the days of being a Princess of any kind seem to be over. As Lafayette says, “hallalujas, hallalujas.”

Here they are with R.’s BFF, S. (a corpse bride) right before the candy begging started. We were one of the first groups out and the kids had a blast.

Here are a few more from the evening’s festivities…

We took the kids around a townhouse complex and even though they maybe went to a third of the condos, they had quite the haul by the time it got dark and they (I) got tired. I did enjoy watching them run around all hopped up on the idea of eating their loot as soon as they slowed down enough to eat something. This was the first year Monkey really understood what he was supposed to do and he did it well. He was polite and excited. His big sister did a fantastic job of heading off as much peanut butter candy for him as she could. She’s a good kid that way and it’s nice that she doesn’t want him to die…in spite of her chosen costume. And that costume gave people pause on occasion which I thought was fantastic. I think a sparkly, blue-eyed, dimpled assassin would be pretty terrifying myself. Nothing like standing a stereotype on its butt.

They were both fairly wiped out by bedtime and they each woke up sick. It’s fevers and coughs all around now. Monkey has a runny nose, and R. has a headache. Yaya and Papa are here this weekend to hang with us and give me a chance to do some of my own things which I truly appreciate even at this early stage of things, and I really hope they won’t leave sick as payment for their good deed. I hate spreading germs around. I am doing my best to drink my ginseng tea and hope that the plate of Thea Sofi’s cranberry squares I have demolished will be a good vitamin C supplement. Thanks, Thea Sofi! The kids layed around watching horrible Disney Halloween movies all day between coughing and napping and not eating their candy. With any luck they will forget they have candy and I can get rid of it before I feel obligated to eat all the good stuff for them.

I did knock out one project yesterday afternoon while the kids rested and my folks kept an eye on them. I worked in the upstairs part of our barn and got it organized. Uncle Fungus had been living up there off and on since April and now that he and K. have left for duty, I was able to go up there and sort through some of the piles of boxes and organize things so that I would know where everything was. We still have a ton of unused space up here and I intend to keep it that way. I say this as one entire, and very large, shelving unit holds all mine and K.’s childhood memorabilia. That’s about half of the boxes and storage containers up here. Of that group, I would say that 75% of them are mine—and I’m not really that much of a horder. I have to go through the boxes and cull many things, but not today. I did peek in some of my boxes and found many examples of my earlier writing. Barely touched journals, papers from middle school, high school, college and grad school, and a play I wrote with a friend in high school called “Cheerleaders from Heck” which I pulled out to read along with a journal I kept my senior year of high school for my Advanced Composition class. We were to pick someone specific for our audience and I picked my future kids so they would know that I was like them once too. We’ll see how that goes. Funny thing is I still write for my kids for that same reason. Sometimes what goes on on the outside isn’t representative of what’s going on inside and they are too young to get it anyway. But someday they won’t be and I would like them to know. I was surprised to see just how passionate I was about writing even back then. Back in high school and college I had A Plan. On the one hand I was quite proud of myself for working towards my goals even back then, and on the other hand, I was sad to see how far I had strayed from those dreams. I can honestly say that writing—or wanting to be a writer—has been the one constant in my life. I may not have been as diligent about doing it for many years, but the desire never went away. I’m glad I boxed up that young, ambitious woman I used to be so that I could find her again. I think she’s going to come in handy this year.

 

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