It is the most important meal of the day

We had birthday cake for breakfast because Taylor said so. When it's your 5th birthday and you are a princess no one dares cross you!



And, really, who would turn down cake for breakfast?

What the future holds

If I had to guess what my girls will be when they grow up...

I think Reagan will be a chef. The girl loves to cook and does a great job and occasionally cleans up behind herself. But, isn't that what busboys are for?

I can totally see McKinley as a veterinarian, a trainer at Sea World (mom's a little unsettled on this one given recent events) or a zoo keeper. The girl loves animals. She is always on the lookout for a stray to take care of.

Then there is Taylor. I'm thinking benevolent dictator because, well, she can. And, honestly, I am a little iffy on the benevolent part.

40 bags

The 40 bag challenge is well underway at Casa d'Ikesters. So far, it has only been clutter. I feel a bit guilty about that.

While it is unnecessary clutter that takes away from the focus on the things that are truly important, I feel like I'm "phoning this one in." It is supposed to be a sacrifice. Getting rid of some of the magazines I hadn't quite gotten around to reading all the way through did leave me questioning if I was missing out on a great fashion tip or some fabulous recipe. But my paying attention to fashion is well-known and the instructions are clearly printed on the mac and cheese box.

So, it is time to ramp this up a bit. It has to be a sacrifice. I have done a bag a day, but just don't feel like I'm doing enough. I still have a hard time walking into my fabulous closet (those overseas will understand how fabulous actually having a closet is) and finding exactly what I am looking for because there's just too much stuff!

I have a gorgeous black evening dress that I wore to the Marine Corps ball when we were here attending ACSC - 11 YEARS AGO! Three kids and over a decade later and I somehow think I am EVER going to get back into that thing is just downright laughable. One of the local dry cleaning chains here is collecting dresses for high school girls who wouldn't otherwise be able to attend prom because of lack of funds for a dress. Today, I dig through my closet and see if there are any relics that will never fit. So, today's bag will feel like a sacrifice. Just as it should.

Lent

The Lenten Season reminds me again of how so very different things are than they were a meer year ago.

Last year we lived in a country whose national religion is Catholic. We were a short days drive from the heart and seat of our beloved Church. Church bells rang out several times each day from various churches. Different tolls for different ocassions, calls to Mass, funeral chimes, and hourly chimes. Long before we left Italy, I knew that was going to be one of my most treasured memories of our time there.

I was right. I still get a bit sad at 7:30 am. That is when the largest church in our town rang the morning call to Mass bells. Taylor and I had usually just arrived back home after walking her sisters to the bus stop and I would leave the front door open so we could listen. On warmer days, we would stop and look at all the flowers blooming or see what fruits we could find in the orchard. The bells would begin before we reached our gate.

Oh, how I miss the bells.

One thing that won't be different this Lenten Season is the 40 bag challenge. I did it last year because we were moving back to the US and I we had too much stuff. I am doing it again this year, because, just like last year we have too much stuff and we are moving again courtesy of the USAF.

I am not committing to one size bag. I know somedays I will be able to fill a commissary bag, and some days I will be able to fill large black trash bags. Some will be clutter that will go to trash curb, but I hope to be able to do more purging of overage items that can be donated and used or sold by The Salvation Army or Catholic Charities.

I hope to actually post some of my progress, but, no promises. My posting is sketchy at best!

Olympic coverage

This is for me the most enjoyable Olympic coverage. Of course, I react with utmost enthusiasm when Team USA wins a medal.

Thanks to our three previous years in Italy, I have found myself finding excitement in seeing certain competitors not from the US win. I nervously watched as Magdelena Neuner skiied across the finish line to win the gold in the biathlon. I let out a little "whoop!" and the girls asked who won what.

"I know why we were happy about the Italian winning a medal in the scary sled thing, because we lived in Italy. I get that. But, why are we happy about the German lady?" asked McKinley. "She's from Garmisch," I replied. "Where we went on those vacations? And, stayed in the cabin and built a snowman for Reagan's birthday!?" she asked with a glint in her eye.

Once it sunk in to all three of the girls that we had been in her hometown, probably at least once while she was there, that we had built snowmen from the very same snowfall that blanketed her family home's yard, we had to rewind and watch her performance.

The girls were riveted. I see skis and guns in our near future. Now, if the Air Force would agree to send us to Garmisch for the next several years, I could have some future Olympians on my hands.

This won't make me popular

I have received several invitations on Facebook over the past few days inviting me to join a FB group that celebrates my hometown.

The group proclaims "We are proud of our hometown heroes."

Heroes my ass. This group is to show how proud residents are of Sheryl Crow, Trent Tomlinson and David Nail.

Yes, our small town has turned out what is probably an inordinate number of extremely talented musicians.

I have nothing against the three people mentioned. In fact, I admire and celebrate their musical talent. One, though I haven't seen him in several years, I still consider a good friend. Another has the most fabulous dad who was one of my most favorite teachers. He is truly talented and I am glad his talent is being rewarded. I still have vivid memories of him as a teenager bringing tears to my eyes with his acoustic rendition of Billy Dean's "Once in While" at First Baptist Church.

But, the use of the word heroes really bothers me and for that reason, I will not join this group.

I found an old post from the archives I recently recovered that I shows this is not a new feeling. I originally posted this August 22, 2004.

What's wrong with our country

I had an epiphany a few days ago.

Well, maybe not actually an epiphany because it is really no secret that our nation is way too obsessed with celebrities.

I guess it was more of a sad realization that even "small town USA" buys into the hype about how great the celebrity du jour is.

As we were approaching my hometown I saw the welcome sign in the distance. Just as I was getting that warm-fuzzy feeling of being back in the area that housed the memories of my childhood I was smacked with a new harsh reality. There was a new sign.

It proudly proclaimed "Welcome to Kennett." That part didn't bother me. It was the second line.

"Home Town of Sheryl Crow."

This is all my little hometown has to be proud of!?

They had replaced "Service Industry Agriculture" with a pop star!

I could have understood if there had been a small sign added proclaiming that the musician had been reared in the sleepy town, but to replace the town's livelihood with one former resident was just sad. Okay, so her parents and a brother still live there.

Seriously. I had tears in my eyes.

Kennett is home to the men and women of the 1137th MP company of the Missouri National Guard. They have been activated and deployed numerous times over the past decade or so. But, I guess that is not worthy of mention.

It is home to C.P. Bridges, recipient of two Purple Hearts and numerous other medals while serving as a gunner on the ACH-47. And, Larry Pritchard who lost a leg while serving his country in Vietnam along with many other men from the town.

It is also home to several World War II veterans like Herman Bone, recipient of five Bronze Stars, two Purple Hearts and a Silver Star. One of seven of his 141-man company which stormed the beach at Normandy on D-Day who lived to see the next day.

But, I guess that's nothing compared to winning 9 Grammy Awards.

They say "you can never go home again."

I don't know who they are, but with skewed adoration like that who really wants to?

Remember

Remember when I said I was coming back to blogger where it all started? Well, I found the original blog!!! I forgot I owned a domain name before theikesters. Whooops. Fortunately, I do have all those files saved on one of our many drives. Maybe when I am an old, crotchy Colonel's wife and I decide to write my memoires I'll figure out which one.

The originial blog can be found here.