And Honored I am….

Right at a time when I felt void of any friends after having moved away again to a new city, I got an invitation from a familiar voice. One of my nearest and dearest invited me to join in to a (and please tell me if I’m getting this wrong), “meme.” — A chain letter for bloggers, if you will. Instructions are as follows:

Grab the nearest book. Open the book to page 56. Find the fifth sentence. Post the text of the next two to five sentences in your journal/blog along with these instructions. Don’t dig for your favorite book, the cool book, or the intellectual one: pick the CLOSEST. Tag five other people to do the same.

As my trademark reading habits can only be described as an orgy of various genres at any given time. I can’t help myself when I go to the library or bookstore. Should I find some interesting reading material even while something near and dear to me is already waiting for me on my nightstand, I must pick up… I must read…. and if I like it, it comes home with me. At this moment I am “finishing up” The Fiery Cross, by Diana Gabaldon; Sense and Sensibility, by Jane Austen; Eat Pray Love, by Elizabeth Gilbert; and just HAD to start The Tao of Willie, by Willie Nelson.  Because Willie’s book is closest to me at the moment (and truthfully my favorite to quote) I choose it for my … er… meme. 

<ahem>  “One result of all that writing is that I’m not quite as motivated as I used to be and don’t feel like I have to write any time in particular.  Now, instead of searching my brain for the songs, I just let the songs come to me.  And I’m thankful when they do.

     The Tao teaches that the act of creation is a form of liberation.  You can’t always change the circumstances of your life, but you can change your perception of those circumstances and of the world around you by any creative act.

     Remember Father Taliaferro.  Creation will set you free.

     So to each of you, I say, “Create!”  It doesn’t matter what:  a line of poetry, a phrase of a song, or a perfect pot roast. 

     Cook a perfect pot roast and you will never dine alone.”

Ok.  So I chose ten sentences — sue me.  However, I thought the passage was fitting for my blog and for anyone who needs a little creativity in their lives.  Because I don’t personally know anyone who has a blog (besides the dearheart who tagged me with this task) I invite any of you to do the same.  Happy writing.

From the Desks of Babes

We’ve all heard the saying, “from the mouths of babes,” and then there’s the one, “kids say the darndest things.”   But you rarely hear about the fantastic trails of communication by kids when pen it put to paper while sitting at their Little Tykes desk.  I was recently entertained by a blog pertainting to this very genre, where the blogger’s son angrily passed a note to his mom with the message, “I hat you!”  From experience, I know how it feels to have to surpress a laugh all the while lovingly understand that your little one is emotionally expressing their thoughts — thoughts that are intended to either hurt you or cry for your attention.  I recently received a note of my very own.  Tonight, as a matter of fact, I was the receiver of a beautifully handwritten note from my 8-year old.  Apparently, while watching the Vice-Presidential debate – something I had been looking forward to all day — I missed an exchange between two of my children.  The older calling the younger a name; however, it was my personal responsibility to moniter this exchange and stop the older from her wrongdoing.  Of course, I missed my calling and in return am the receiver of a most emotional response.   An emotionally charged and brutal lashing, yes, but also a keepsake that will be cherished in time.

Things I Don’t Like… A Compilation

1.  mosquitoes – the only purpose they serve is spreading diseases and pissing me off.

2.  Other nuisances such as fleas, ticks, lice, Ann Coulter and Rush Limbaugh… (for the same reason as above).

3.  Expensive restaurants that suck, but people with money still go there – this goes in my “what the hell” and “you’re kidding, right?” sub-categories.

4.  Pessimists — I don’t like them and I don’t like it when I turn into one.  Once I change my attitude life somehow changes for the better for me.  Try it, you might like it.

5.  People who think they know it all, but are just dumb as dirt.  (see #2)

6.  Lazy people who delegate – the words, “get off your ass and do it yourself” come to mind.

7.  People with no common sense — OK, I mostly feel sympathy for their loss, but I still reserve the right to not like their choices.

8.  Designer labels that cost a fortune, while their workmanship and materials are no better than other brands.  These are often displayed by people in # 3 on my list who also fall under #7.  I admit I may have one or two of these items, but they were purchased through eBay or found on the shelves in clearance for mega-bargain prices.

9.  People who buy #8, eat at #3, but because they are #7 they can’t wrap their brains around the idea that if they’d stop doing #8 and #3, they could actually avoid going on food stamps.  Unfortunately they are simply #5.

10.  Let’s talk about the SH**TY music coming out of the cars of some young #5’s out there.  This should be on the top of my list, but I just thought of it and I choose not to cut and paste then re-type my numbers.  WHAT’S WITH THE BASE COMING OUT OF YOUR TRUNKS, PEOPLE?  It can be heard three cars away with the windows closed, air conditioning cranked up, and my own music playing at a comfortable level.  I don’t know if the little whipper-snappers think they are ’gangsta’ by doing this, but come across this woman’s path during PMS season on a day with so much to do and so little time … well, BATTER-UP LITTLE BOY!  However, catch me on a good day and one of these #5’s do a #10 along side me at a stop light, my counter-action of choice is to simply crank up Bach, Mozart, or even a nice kick-ass Pavarotti’s “Ave Maria” at a beautiful ear-piercing level, roll the windows down, and send them the high-sign while leaving enough rubber behind to impress even the toughest critics of “American Graffiti.”   Who’s ‘gangsta’ now little #2’s!

Possibilities – Reincarnation

What’s the possibility that there is such a thing as reincarnation?  I know I’m getting into what could be a heated debate over religion, but I’d like to stay out of that arena for the time being.  I’m just saying what if reincarnation really is IT.  This is something that I’ve rolled around for quite some time.  Think about it; what are some of your personal clues that may lead to that fact?  Were you born into a situation that just wasn’t you?  Of course, I love my birth family, but I haven’t lived in my home state since 1986.  They’re practically strangers to me and every time I go home for a visit I like to freak myself out by reminding myself that these strangers are actually my brothers and sisters!  Did you ever desire something that was out of the ordinary, or go somewhere, or even be another person but you couldn’t muster the courage to say it out loud for fear of sounding ridiculous?  At the age of six I insisted that my father buy me a lamb.  We lived in the country, but not on a farm; in fact, we were just a stone’s throw outside of the Philadelphia border.  I suppose any little kid living in a small town might want a cute fluffy lamb as a pet, but highly unlikely that they will fight tooth and nail to get one.  So now we fast-forward to 25 years later when we were assigned to an airbase in Germany and we had the opportunity to visit Scotland.  For the first time in my life (OK, aside from shopping and walking the streets in Paris) I truly felt like I was home.  Scotland… sheep… are we getting the connection yet?  I know I’m sounding foolish here, but I swear, I knew it right then and there the minute that I looked on the hills in Scotland that that was indeed not the first time I actually had looked on those hills.  I knew deep down in my soul that I belonged there and that was where my deep-seated stubbornness that drove my father to buy me that lamb came from.  Imagine the eureka moment I experienced there — in my land, but not my heritage — as a voice in my head exclaimed, “By golly, I’m a freakin’ Scot”!

Thinking about that sudden sense of pride I felt that day is still a shock — but a good one.  However, if we’re talking reincarnation here, then it doesn’t end there now does it!  If all I said above held water in the great debate, then what am I to be proud of in my next life?  Will I be proud to have been the sum of all my Pennsylvania Dutch, Italian and French ancestors?  Yeeaaa, no.   What about the rest of my personality?  Will I enjoy the arts?  Or will I have a never-ending urge to write (maybe I’ll actually be good at it next time)?  What about the military thing?  My every action, it seems, has been orchestrated by the fact that I’m a military wife.  To be sure there are things I must reserve myself from saying or doing in public because I, as well as my counter parts, represent the collective Air Force Wife — a definite working part in our military.  How is that cherry going to affect my next life?  Will I be born with a stick up my butt, or will I just implode?    And should being a Scot be the end all be all of my pride?  Maybe everything that we are made up of in this life is a collective effort of all of our past lives — well, duh! I once attended a Glen Miller Band concert in a park with a friend (yes, I know Miller is dead — it was a modern band playing Glen Miller’s music).  We were in our 20’s at the time and really felt the age gap between us and the rest of the audience.  I’d always liked music from the 1940’s and she was a pretty big jazz buff.  Anyway, we were just sitting there enjoying the music when some of the older couples got up and started dancing.  BAM!  It hit me!  Holy Crap, I think I used to live in the 1940’s!  Am I the only person this happens to?  Am I the “ghost whisperer” of Christmas’s past?  I need to know that this is happening to a great number of others before I start wondering if I should be looking for my spaceship so I can start my voyage home!  Now, I’m not a total freak of nature; these little “BAM” moments don’t happen on a daily/weekly or even yearly basis.  They only happened a few times in my life which may be the pudding that proves I shouldn’t be ignoring my little moments.  If they happened all the time then I can just claim my license of creativity and hit the road.  But since they are few and far between they could stand to be credible evidence of some cool past-lifely type material!

Look, I don’t have much of a point or even end-note to this conversation.  I’m pretty much just thinking out loud.  But maybe it can be a jumping-off point for someone else who thinks they might be just as crazy as I’m afraid I could be.  (crazy and jumping-off might not have been good in the same sentence — sorry)  I suppose I’m hoping there may be others out there just like me and by saying these things I could be opening the door for someone else to start thinking out loud.  Perhaps we’ll start a coffee group one day and get matching tattoos.  Ok, maybe not then…

My A-HA Moment!

** This was written before the Primaries. My support for Sen. Obama has not changed. My respect goes to Sen. Clinton as I wish her luck in her future endeavors. And I wish Sen. McCain and Gov. Palin luck in their future — just not too much luck until Nov 4th . As side-note to Sen. McCain… if you DO win, just a small word of advice; Please, take your vitamins, use your sunscreen, and be sure to take good care of your Secret Service men and women.

There I was.  Just sitting on my favorite blue chair, minding my own business and reading A New Earth by Eckhart Tolle while my cat was kneading a “pillow” for himself on my shoulder.  As I read about the horrors of mankind’s destruction due the imbalance of knowledge vs. awakening, the most amazing thing struck me.   

 

I am a supporter of Sen. Obama.  Tthroughout the last weeks/months as I listened to his speeches and debates I grew increasingly frustrated by the lack of “meat” in his arguments.  I get the full message that he’s reaching out to us with, but we need him to fight more.  We need more ideas of HOW he’s going to fix our country’s problems.   We need these things because there are others out there who are waiting to hear those magic words that will move their spirit to the voting booth and vote for that candidate.  I, on the other hand, don’t need the special words.  I’ve known for a while that he’s the one we need to lead our country.  How do I know this?  I had ABSOLUTELY no idea.  I just knew that he’s a good person, his intentions are all for the best, and he genuinely wants to lead our country to the best that it can be (while to many times in the past, the word, “win” came out of Sen. Clinton’s speeches a little too often — I wondered if this was more about winning for her than caring about this country).  

 

If you were to ask me at any given time in my adulthood the question:  If you were a superhero, what kind of super powers would you prefer to have?  I would answer it with this:  I would have the “Power of Persuasion!”  It seems, to me, that the power of persuasion could solve ALL of the world’s problems!  I would take that power and persuade the “superpowers” of the world to put away their WMD and to really look at the citizens of the country(ies) that they abhor.  To look at the children and imagine the horror that they would go through should that “leader” lose his grip and push that little red button.  I would persuade all of the multi-billionaires that the way to greatness is to use their resources for purposes that benefit others in need.   Imagine how one could change the world if they had the ability to persuade every living being with a weapon to not use it.  That’s just the beginning!  More industries could be persuaded to stop polluting our environment, corruption could be stopped, racism, sexism, and intolerance between religions could actually ”see the light” and realize that we’re all worshipping a being or an idea that promotes the betterment of our lives as well as our world.

 

My a-ha moment brought me back to why it is that I have that “feeling” that Obama is the best candidate to become our next president.  It suddenly hit me like a brick!  The man gets it!  Sen. Obama has the gift of gab, so to speak.  Again, it’s frustrating that there are so many other things that I would say if I were in his shoes and he’s just not reading my mind to get the message.  However, lately, there have been an onslaught of super-delegates who have suddenly changed their positions and are now supporting Sen. Obama.  Has this man somehow gained that power of persuasion that I always wished I had?  I now believe he has and not only will he use it to persuade the fine citizens of our country to lay their trust in him, but he WILL use it for the betterment of our lives once he is firmly seated as our leader.  His message has always been to use communication as your tool in the time of adversity.  This is the key to successfully bettering any circumstance and I believe more than ever that it will be key to successfully bringing back our country to the greatness we once had and always strive for. 

 

 

Posted on Spouse Buzz

I wanted to include a short story that I posted on a Military Spouse Buzz website.  Here is the link:  http://www.spousebuzz.com/blog/2008/05/army-wives-you.html?cid=113277390#comment-113277390

What you will find on the site is suggestions from military spouses to the writers of the television show, Army Wives.  I was impressed with so many suggestions from other wives; I really wanted to add one of my own.  My humiliating personal experience that I shared is one of my most cherished in the long list of humiliating experiences during my husband’s career.  I have copied and pasted it below:

 

     I am partial to the idea of having a new young officer’s wife move in. I lived that one! I left my career working at a University when my husband became a 1st Leutenant in the Air Force. Of course, I knew nothing about AF life and after reading the ancient copy of an Air Force Wife manual I automatically assumed that we were to all wear white gloves and carry around calling cards (18 years later, I do like the calling card idea, however). I was relieved to see at my first Wing Wives Club meeting that I was ill-informed and all the other wives were down to earth and easy to talk to. However, I made the mistake of relaxing a little to much. As the meeting wound down and others were beginning to tell jokes (some quite dirty), I proceeded to tell one which I learned at the University regarding sorority girls. The house went quiet. What I failed to notice earlier was most of the other wives — especially the ones married to Colonels (and possibly one General) — had daughters attending college!
     With this story in mind. I’d love to see Roxy become a mentor to a young officer’s wife. I want to see a new side of her that can teach a new wife (who’s husband out-ranks her own) about life in the Army. I would love to see the reactions of some of the other officer’s wives (you know the ones… who think THEY wear their husband’s ranks) as they become friends. I believe there could be so many stories that can be told with the two characters; especailly seeing Roxy in a new role.

Operation IKEA Run

I must warn you, this story may be funnier if I was telling it to you in person, but, I’ll do my best to illustrate the facts to give you maximum entertainment (as the memory of the experience is priceless).

 

First a little background.  The Air Force was kind enough to let us call Germany our home for two assignments — few people are that lucky.  Living in Europe is an awesome experience, however, there are times when we missed the American shopping experience (malls just aren’t a staple out there as much as they are here).  One hot-spot in Germany that no military spouse should miss is IKEA.  I know, it’s not an American store, but we have them in America so it feels like home – plus the bargains and selections ROCK! 

 

When we first arrived in Germany (the second time), we met up with Dolanblog and her three-ring… er, family.  First off, let me tell you, my hubby was her hubby’s boss during that assignment.  Random information, but good to know for later on in the story.  Due to our similar wit and all-around-great-personalities, or maybe it was the way the stars were lined up, we became instant buddies.  

 

Once our families were settled in our respective homes, hubbies well situated at work, and kids sent off to school the time came for us spouses to reap the rewards from days/weeks of unpacking thousands of pounds of household goods.  It’s was time to shop!  So, one day I decided to take my new BFF to one of the best shopping mecca’s Saarland, Germany has to offer… IKEA.  (you knew I was going to say that, didn’t you?)  The drive is a good solid 40 to 45 minutes so it was imperative that all planning had to be done with military precision.  There was no room for error as we mapped out our rendezvous time, place, and best route to take in order to arrive back to our respective villages in time to meet the children coming off of their school buses.  Most important was mode of transportation – the best option was my suburban just in case someone made a large purchase.  At last, the day was here to introduce the world of European shopping to my new friend just like some kind soul had done for me years before.  The rendezvous was executed with precision.  Hell, we would have had time for a Starbucks if there was one around, but off we went credit cards in hand and nothing but the open road ahead of us.  We arrived at our destination well before our scheduled time.  Scanning the entrance for other American shoppers who may have had the same idea, we wondered, “who will be my competition should there be just one set of curtains in my color in the sale bin?”  The coast was clear as we comrades headed in for the kill. 

 

Our mission was looking to be a success.  The sale bins were full and plentiful, isles were clear of ’slow-walkers,’  I was proud of being part of a team who knew what they wanted and how they would get it.  It seemed that nothing could compromise the success of our mission for the perfect shopping experience.  

 

As we approached zero-hour (literally, zero minutes in our ‘time cushion’ left before we had to haul-butt home), we loaded our purchases and hit the road back to reality.   The mood was light and conversation flowed like the left lane of the autobahn.  Our chatting had lulled me into a meditative-type state when something suddenly dawned on me.   Shouldn’t we have come to an interesting part of the road where a curious looking net is suspended above?  And why are we approaching a tunnel?  Confusion was replaced by terror when we came to a sign informing us that we will soon be entering [the country of] Luxembourg!  The realization hit us that we missed our exit and were thus traveling north instead of south.  The mission was a failure!  We were hopeless as countless miles/kilometers separated us from our original course.  The kids will be boarding their school buses soon and we had to surrender.   We were forced to submit to the lowest of all lows…  we had to call the husbands, admit defeat, and beg for back-up.   Things didn’t seem to go well on DB’s side.  How do you ask a new boss for a little time off so you can pick up the kids from the bus stop because your wife is out shopping?  Chaos ensued in our vehicle as I looked desperately for an exit while simultaneously shouting from my side of the car into DB’s phone to reassure her hubby that the boss will be completely sympathetic.  I knew this because at that precise time, my hubby was laughing on my line and teasing, “Sprechen sie French?” (apparently, my knight in shining armour thinks he’s a commedian).    In the end, our back-ups came through for us.  An exit was soon found and we were back on our way while resisting the temptation to check out the shopping in Luxembourg since, after all, we had come all that way.  Back to our planned route we were able to relax once more.  All seemed back to normal and we were in the clear.  Nervous laughter turned to praise for the men in our lives.  We were so relieved, we almost broke into song… until we came to, “the bridge.”  This bridge  was suspended, it seemed, countless miles above the earth.  Driving on such a bridge in normal circumstances brought the Lords prayer into my head, but adding truck traffic and the high-speeds of the German Autobahn was enough to, well, hope I had some baby wipes in the back of the car.  With roadwork being done to the surface of the shoulder up ahead there really wasn’t much wiggle room to navigate.  As we approached the bridge, I was in the left lane with a truck up ahead to my right and one behind me.  I felt pretty boxed in and the only way to get out of the predicament was to speed up and pass the truck on my right.  Claustrophobia was definitely starting to set in.  I tried once to speed up, but chickened out.  Due to the above-mentioned roadwork, the size of the truck and the width of the beast I was driving, I started to panic.  Fortunately for me, I had “Cool Hand Luke” at my side with a tape measure.  Now, the only way to get the full affect of this part of the story is to really concentrate hard and imagine the picture I’m painting here.  DB rationally points out the approximate width of our lane, pulls out her tape measure, and as I begin accelerate above the speed that normally causes my suburban to shake, asks me to hold my end of the tape out of my window and even with the edge of my side mirror.   That little piece of insanity wrapped up in common sense actually helped in some sort of twisted way.  I suddenly found the courage to squeeze the beast through the eye of the needle so we could get out of our box and off of the bridge from hell.  I only wish I could have seen the truck driver’s face as he looked down at us and saw two crazy gals shouting at each other, measuring the width of the suburban and driving at mach speed to pass him.  Compared to that experience, the rest of the story is pretty trivial.  We made it home in one piece, the kids were safe and sound, and we survived our almost-flawed mission.  It’s become legend now at Ramstein Air Base.  If you ever get there and decide to go with a friend to IKEA and take the highway that avoids the city of Saarbrucken, you may hear the words, “you know, there’s a funny story I heard about this very trip we’re taking here.”

“I like me, who do you like?”

One of my all-time favorite quotes from my dear mother.  It was her way of giving me the proverbial “kick in the faux-pas” when I was acting “self important.”   Which will later bring me to the subject of audacity, friend or foe – one of my favorite subjects.  Up until recently I looked at the idea of blogging as a self-important activity.  Hmm, I have something important on my mind.  Let me write it here for everyone in the world to read because, of course, they’ll think since it came out of my (moi) own thoughts, it MUST be important.   Ok, I digress.  A recent series of faux-pas kicking (and believe me, I was long overdue for a good kicking!) from a recent lecture I’d been to as well as from my favorite BFF brought me to realize that blogging’s got its purposes!  It’s fun AND it’s useful;  If I’m ever to become a serious writer, I better consider this stuff!   SO, here I am.  My first blog.  With some luck and a stroke of creativity I hope to produce some pretty entertaining literature.  Some pertaining to raising children, a little bit of girlfriend talk and a dash of ”what was I thinking when I supported my husband’s decision to join the Air Force.”  I completely know this is not important stuff to the world, but it’s important to the person taking it to the grave.  So enjoy reading on and all I ask is that you’re gentle with your critiques.  Read it with a grain of salt — sort of like visiting a modern art gallery!