SSG Salvatore Giunta - HERO.
Tuesday, November 16, 2010
Friday, October 29, 2010
Milspouse Friday Fill-In
1.What’s the nicest thing a stranger has ever done for you?
I had a gentleman insist on buying breakfast and lunch far over the the voucher value for me when I was traveling with a then 2-month-old Reagan and got weathered in at the Denver airport for nearly 8 hours. He made two coffee bar runs for us. He also schlepped my bags and stroller each time they played "Change the Gate!" game. He was missing his granddaughter and was hoping there was someone willing to help his daughter when she traveled in the next few weeks. An 8-hour delay with a 2-month-old could have been brutal. It really wasn't bad at all thanks to this man. He was my constant companion and with his having a new grandbaby and being an Air Force Retiree we really did have a lot to talk about. The time actually flew by.
2.If you are having a hard time going to sleep, what do you do to help yourself?
Once I get the millions of do-lists shoved into a corner of my brain I start saying The Decades of the Rosary. I try to alternate them between English, Italian and Spanish.
3.Name something that makes you wish you were a kid again. Bills, parental issues, relationship issues. Stress over making the best choices for my children.
4.What is something you never believed until you experienced it?
Ghosts/Spirits. Neither were "conjured up." One appeared to me at the side of my bed to give me some strong advice about a situation. The other was my departed Father-in-Law who came to me in a dream to tell me to be diligent in my pregnancy (with Taylor) and to make sure the doctors were thorough because baby sister was going to have some problems. He also passed on the same message to my Sister-In-Law.
5.What can’t you say “no” to? Right now it is the huge bag of Tootsie Rolls
I had a gentleman insist on buying breakfast and lunch far over the the voucher value for me when I was traveling with a then 2-month-old Reagan and got weathered in at the Denver airport for nearly 8 hours. He made two coffee bar runs for us. He also schlepped my bags and stroller each time they played "Change the Gate!" game. He was missing his granddaughter and was hoping there was someone willing to help his daughter when she traveled in the next few weeks. An 8-hour delay with a 2-month-old could have been brutal. It really wasn't bad at all thanks to this man. He was my constant companion and with his having a new grandbaby and being an Air Force Retiree we really did have a lot to talk about. The time actually flew by.
2.If you are having a hard time going to sleep, what do you do to help yourself?
Once I get the millions of do-lists shoved into a corner of my brain I start saying The Decades of the Rosary. I try to alternate them between English, Italian and Spanish.
3.Name something that makes you wish you were a kid again. Bills, parental issues, relationship issues. Stress over making the best choices for my children.
4.What is something you never believed until you experienced it?
Ghosts/Spirits. Neither were "conjured up." One appeared to me at the side of my bed to give me some strong advice about a situation. The other was my departed Father-in-Law who came to me in a dream to tell me to be diligent in my pregnancy (with Taylor) and to make sure the doctors were thorough because baby sister was going to have some problems. He also passed on the same message to my Sister-In-Law.
5.What can’t you say “no” to? Right now it is the huge bag of Tootsie Rolls
Thursday, October 21, 2010
Thankful Thursday
Thankful for:
The Nut Man. He was at the BX today. I got totally addicted to the sweet, lightly coated, roasted nuts in Italy and Germany. I was so happy to find them here in Ohio. Of course, the BX lobby is no European market, but I will take what I can get! And, be thankful for it.
Roomba. I love being able to turn that little guy on as I walk out the door and come home to a vacuumed floor. With three stories in this house, I am especially glad that I have not one, but two Roombas!
St. Peter Parish and School. We attended Mass last night to celebrate the 50th anniversary of the church and school. I am very thankful my children attend such a wonderful school that is rooted in the faith.
Fall. It seems fall has finally come to Ohio to stay. The days are crisp and sunny and the leaves are stunning.
The Nut Man. He was at the BX today. I got totally addicted to the sweet, lightly coated, roasted nuts in Italy and Germany. I was so happy to find them here in Ohio. Of course, the BX lobby is no European market, but I will take what I can get! And, be thankful for it.
Roomba. I love being able to turn that little guy on as I walk out the door and come home to a vacuumed floor. With three stories in this house, I am especially glad that I have not one, but two Roombas!
St. Peter Parish and School. We attended Mass last night to celebrate the 50th anniversary of the church and school. I am very thankful my children attend such a wonderful school that is rooted in the faith.
Fall. It seems fall has finally come to Ohio to stay. The days are crisp and sunny and the leaves are stunning.
Wednesday, October 20, 2010
Tuesday, October 19, 2010
Missing Italia
While looking for something completely unrelated, I stumbled across some pictures on the computer and have spent most of my morning revisiting the beauty of Italy and Slovenia.
This little guy was always sitting in this window greeting us as I dropped Taylor off at Asilo in Dardago. On really cold and/or rainy days he was inside, but always in the window.
Lake Bled
This little guy was always sitting in this window greeting us as I dropped Taylor off at Asilo in Dardago. On really cold and/or rainy days he was inside, but always in the window.
Lake Bled
Saturday, October 16, 2010
The Waiting Game
All I want for Christmas is an answer! And, I want it early.
Several weeks ago we found out that husband made the command selection board list.
Yep. With more than half of our boxes yet unpacked from the most recent PCS we learned we could very well be boxing everything up after less than a year here and moving again.
It was very bittersweet.
On the one hand, I am so proud of husband. On the other hand, we are really happy here. We have a great house in a great neighborhod. Husband has a short commute to work and works with good people. We have several old friends here and have made new friends. The girls are in an amazing school. They love their teachers, the priests, their classmates and they are thriving.
In a move quite uncharacteristic, I dived into getting things unpacked and sorted even though I toyed with the idea of just leaving things packed until we knew if we were moving again.
The impetus was twofold.
First, I do not want to move the enormous amount of crap we have into yet another house. It all fits in this house and we have room to sort and purge. The likelihood of having another house this large is very slim. Second, and most importantly, this will probably shake out to be the worst move in his career.
THE. WORST.
I really thought the damage and loss on our Maxwell AFB to Fairchild AFB PCS in our second year of marriage would never be topped. I was wrong. It is so disheartening to open a box and see the utter disregard the movers had for our belongings. So, I emptied, marvelled, wept and documented.
And, now, I may actually be more ready for a PCS than ever before. So, now we wait. We wait for the Air Force to decide if we get to stay put for a while or if we get to play Russian roullette with our belongings again in the next few months.
We should have an answer just before Christmas. I want Christmas to come early.
Several weeks ago we found out that husband made the command selection board list.
Yep. With more than half of our boxes yet unpacked from the most recent PCS we learned we could very well be boxing everything up after less than a year here and moving again.
It was very bittersweet.
On the one hand, I am so proud of husband. On the other hand, we are really happy here. We have a great house in a great neighborhod. Husband has a short commute to work and works with good people. We have several old friends here and have made new friends. The girls are in an amazing school. They love their teachers, the priests, their classmates and they are thriving.
In a move quite uncharacteristic, I dived into getting things unpacked and sorted even though I toyed with the idea of just leaving things packed until we knew if we were moving again.
The impetus was twofold.
First, I do not want to move the enormous amount of crap we have into yet another house. It all fits in this house and we have room to sort and purge. The likelihood of having another house this large is very slim. Second, and most importantly, this will probably shake out to be the worst move in his career.
THE. WORST.
I really thought the damage and loss on our Maxwell AFB to Fairchild AFB PCS in our second year of marriage would never be topped. I was wrong. It is so disheartening to open a box and see the utter disregard the movers had for our belongings. So, I emptied, marvelled, wept and documented.
And, now, I may actually be more ready for a PCS than ever before. So, now we wait. We wait for the Air Force to decide if we get to stay put for a while or if we get to play Russian roullette with our belongings again in the next few months.
We should have an answer just before Christmas. I want Christmas to come early.
Thursday, October 14, 2010
Finally! Maybe.
I think fall might finally be here. It toyed with us a few weeks ago with a couple of crisp days and two nights of low temperatures that ALMOST required the heat. But then Mother Nature decided we needed a few more days in the high 80s. And, the air conditioning got a late season workout. Ugh!
The trees don't seem to be deterred by the fickle Mother Nature. They are absolutely stunning! I really need to get out and take some pictures.
The trees don't seem to be deterred by the fickle Mother Nature. They are absolutely stunning! I really need to get out and take some pictures.
Thursday, September 30, 2010
And, a Fine Good Morning to You!
Perhaps I have inadvertently angered some obscure hillbilly mafia.
Since I understand what a horse head in the bed that is the only conclusion I can come to regarding the dead racoon in my driveway this morning.
At this point I choose to focus on the positives. Husband did not run over it when he left in the dark for work this morning. I was able to dispose of the carcass before the girls got up and lost their ever-loving minds. I earned the respect of the next door neighbor who walked out to find me holding a shovel with the recently deceased contemplating my next move. Most importantly, I did not hurl.
Here's to hoping I can make it through the rest of the day without incident. However, if the hillbilly mafia plans to make another deposit I repectfully request moonshine.
Since I understand what a horse head in the bed that is the only conclusion I can come to regarding the dead racoon in my driveway this morning.
At this point I choose to focus on the positives. Husband did not run over it when he left in the dark for work this morning. I was able to dispose of the carcass before the girls got up and lost their ever-loving minds. I earned the respect of the next door neighbor who walked out to find me holding a shovel with the recently deceased contemplating my next move. Most importantly, I did not hurl.
Here's to hoping I can make it through the rest of the day without incident. However, if the hillbilly mafia plans to make another deposit I repectfully request moonshine.
Tuesday, September 28, 2010
Blowing the dust off
With another move under our belt, I figured it was time to blow the dust off the blog and try to do a better job of updating.
Key word: TRY!!
Key word: TRY!!
Sunday, March 21, 2010
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?
And, really, who would turn down cake for breakfast?
Monday, March 8, 2010
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.
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.
Thursday, February 25, 2010
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.
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.
Thursday, February 18, 2010
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!
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!
Tuesday, February 16, 2010
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.
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.
Thursday, January 28, 2010
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?
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?
Monday, January 25, 2010
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.
The originial blog can be found here.
Sunday, January 24, 2010
We are party people
Husband and I cannot be accused of not knowing how to have a fun evening. Perhaps interestting is a better word.
Kiddos down for bed. Husband or should I say Fellow since he was in study mode says "Hey, do you want to watch a biography on Hugo Chavez." The surprise here was the quickness with which I said "Sure!"
I took the stack of papers I was working on and the laptop and settled into my chair in the living room and waited. He walked through and asked what I was doing. "Huh? Didn't you just say we were watching something about Chavez?" "Oh,no. I've already seen it for class. I thought maybe you might want to see it. I put it in the DVD player in your office. Oh, but, I'll find something we can watch together."
I go back to flipping through the paperwork which was my humongous stack of medical files and a much smaller stack I needed to finish filling out for a doctor's appointment tomorrow.*
Call me crazy, but knowing what I was sorting through, the recorded, not yet watched Burn Notice might have been a good choice. Nope. Fellow chose the oh-so-uplifting Fail-Safe and tricked me into by asking if I wanted to watch a George Clooney movie with him.
Between stumbling across the report of and the memory of my friend Julie and her husband Nate saving my life and giving the Italian paramedics an earfull. Finding and reading the results of my two MRIs done at the Italian Cancer Center in Aviano. Gosh, what I'd love for just one sheet to say "Pt came in for follow-up appointment. Good to go."/
The combo of that and the movie left me in a somber place.
Fellow is no longer allowed to plan mommy-daddy time when mommy is already doing less than thrilling things.
*For those wondering, tomorrow's appointment is with the neurologist -FINALLY. The good news is I have already had a very thorough MRI scan done about a month ago. So, hopefully the doctor will be able to give me some sort of information since we have lots of data. And please or please, don't let him turn into Dr. Evil and demand a spinal tap.
And, for those who really care or have no life I intend to try to keep my head issues at OMG.
Kiddos down for bed. Husband or should I say Fellow since he was in study mode says "Hey, do you want to watch a biography on Hugo Chavez." The surprise here was the quickness with which I said "Sure!"
I took the stack of papers I was working on and the laptop and settled into my chair in the living room and waited. He walked through and asked what I was doing. "Huh? Didn't you just say we were watching something about Chavez?" "Oh,no. I've already seen it for class. I thought maybe you might want to see it. I put it in the DVD player in your office. Oh, but, I'll find something we can watch together."
I go back to flipping through the paperwork which was my humongous stack of medical files and a much smaller stack I needed to finish filling out for a doctor's appointment tomorrow.*
Call me crazy, but knowing what I was sorting through, the recorded, not yet watched Burn Notice might have been a good choice. Nope. Fellow chose the oh-so-uplifting Fail-Safe and tricked me into by asking if I wanted to watch a George Clooney movie with him.
Between stumbling across the report of and the memory of my friend Julie and her husband Nate saving my life and giving the Italian paramedics an earfull. Finding and reading the results of my two MRIs done at the Italian Cancer Center in Aviano. Gosh, what I'd love for just one sheet to say "Pt came in for follow-up appointment. Good to go."/
The combo of that and the movie left me in a somber place.
Fellow is no longer allowed to plan mommy-daddy time when mommy is already doing less than thrilling things.
*For those wondering, tomorrow's appointment is with the neurologist -FINALLY. The good news is I have already had a very thorough MRI scan done about a month ago. So, hopefully the doctor will be able to give me some sort of information since we have lots of data. And please or please, don't let him turn into Dr. Evil and demand a spinal tap.
And, for those who really care or have no life I intend to try to keep my head issues at OMG.
Friday, January 15, 2010
Getting antsy
Husband is the planner in the family. His lists have lists. The man lives for spreadsheets and flow charts and contigency plans.
Me? Yeah, not so much. I'm not into flow charts, but more of a go-with-the-flow kinda gal.
I don't know if he is starting to rub off on me, but I am chomping at the bit to get organized for our upcoming PCS. The problem is the Air Force just hasn't let us know yet where we are headed.
Where we are headed is rather important in my move prep. I have quite an assortment of cold-weather clothing for myself and the girls. If I start purging those bins the way my luck runs we'll get orders for Minot, Grand Forks or Siberia. If I seal them up and stash them out of the way to focus on other items, we'll end up headed to a hot, humid climate.
There is one category hanging over my head that is far more important than the clothing.
Liquor.
We stocked up on fabulous wines and liquores from Italy, Slovenia, Germany, France and Belguim. If we get sent back overseas we cannot ship our stash back over.
Fortunately, the planner in the family was wise enough to have only about one-third of our booty shipped to us here in Alabama. The rest is still being held by our "wine guy" in Italy.
So, there lies the dillema. What to focus on?
I suppose I could always combine the two. I can work on consuming copious amounts of my European treasures while sorting and purging clothing. It could lead to some interesting wardrobe choices. But that is okay. It's not as if people commenting on my clothing is anything new.
Me? Yeah, not so much. I'm not into flow charts, but more of a go-with-the-flow kinda gal.
I don't know if he is starting to rub off on me, but I am chomping at the bit to get organized for our upcoming PCS. The problem is the Air Force just hasn't let us know yet where we are headed.
Where we are headed is rather important in my move prep. I have quite an assortment of cold-weather clothing for myself and the girls. If I start purging those bins the way my luck runs we'll get orders for Minot, Grand Forks or Siberia. If I seal them up and stash them out of the way to focus on other items, we'll end up headed to a hot, humid climate.
There is one category hanging over my head that is far more important than the clothing.
Liquor.
We stocked up on fabulous wines and liquores from Italy, Slovenia, Germany, France and Belguim. If we get sent back overseas we cannot ship our stash back over.
Fortunately, the planner in the family was wise enough to have only about one-third of our booty shipped to us here in Alabama. The rest is still being held by our "wine guy" in Italy.
So, there lies the dillema. What to focus on?
I suppose I could always combine the two. I can work on consuming copious amounts of my European treasures while sorting and purging clothing. It could lead to some interesting wardrobe choices. But that is okay. It's not as if people commenting on my clothing is anything new.
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