Tuesday, July 31, 2007

Memory Lane

T1G emailed me RSM's address at Basic. He is at the same "guest" facility that Old Sarge and Young SGT went to when they went through Basic. It brought back some memories, fer sure.

We drove down for Young SGT's graduation weekend, and as soon as he was released for the afternoon before the ceremony, we went in search of a drinking establishment, taking one of his buddies with us. Which was what they had been SPECIFICALLY told not to do. Now, the neighboring town must be dry, because we looked all over for a bar and had no luck at all. Finally, we found an old theater that had been renovated into a club, but it was closed. As luck would have it, the manager was just getting there to start getting ready to open later that night. Seeing the boys all gussied up in their spiffy green suits, the man let us in and the party began. I will never know how the Eldest Son found us there, but we were in full swing hours before the place ever opened- just us, the manager and the janitor. By the time we left, the place was getting full. The bartender told us she made more in tips from the time we were there than she usually did all night. Hey, it was worth it.
Now, the boys had a curfew, and we were speeding like crazy to get them back in time. And of course got pulled over. Thank God that cop had a little sense of mercy; he let us go while I was passing out gum to two very drunken soldiers. We pulled up to their barracks just as everyone else (who apparently had RESPONSIBLE parents!) was lining up in their PT gear for head count. Old Sarge made me sit tight in the car; he didn't think that me explaining to the drill sergeant that it was our fault they were late would help anything.

The next morning, we were all very hungover. Eldest Son wore his Marine dress blues to honor his brother. As we were gathering for the graduation ceremony, I noticed that there was something white all over the back of his pants. Apparently someone was too drunk to breathe and chew gum- it was all over the back seat and the, er, back seat.

Old Sarge's identical twin brother drives the recruits around at this base. Maybe I should give him a call and have him look in on our newest soldier.

Monday, July 30, 2007

Speaking in Tongues

Occassionally, my inner dialogue, the little voice that does the internal running commentary of my life, does some very strange things.

Sometimes, it speaks with an accent. Or continual run-on sentences. But today it has outdone itself.

It's speaking German, and DAMN if I can understand one word of it!

Thursday, July 26, 2007

Our State Government Sucks

I have been waiting to see if any other Illinois blogger would comment on the recently signed legislation that makes it illegal to smoke.

Honestly, I am absolutely speechless over this.

Well, not quite. It seems that they went out of their way to include service clubs like the VFW and American Legion:

"Private club" means a not-for-profit association that (1)
has been in active and continuous existence for at least 3
years prior to the effective date of this amendatory Act of the
95th General Assembly, whether incorporated or not, (2) is the
owner, lessee, or occupant of a building or portion thereof
used exclusively for club purposes at all times, (3) is
operated solely for a recreational, fraternal, social,
patriotic, political, benevolent, or athletic purpose, but not
for pecuniary gain, and (4) only sells alcoholic beverages
incidental to its operation. For purposes of this definition,
"private club" means an organization that is managed by a board
of directors, executive committee, or similar body chosen by
the members at an annual meeting, has established bylaws, a
constitution, or both to govern its activities, and has been
granted an exemption from the payment of federal income tax as
a club under 26 U.S.C. 501.

And then:

A "public
place" includes, but is not limited to, hospitals, restaurants,
retail stores, offices, commercial establishments, elevators,
indoor theaters, libraries, museums, concert halls, public
conveyances, educational facilities, nursing homes,
auditoriums, enclosed or partially enclosed sports arenas,
meeting rooms, schools, exhibition halls, convention
facilities, polling places, private clubs, gaming facilities,
all government owned vehicles and facilities…

I make no secret that I am a smoker. I wish I wasn’t, but there it is. That said, it’s stupid enough that the ban includes bars. That is going to kill businesses. The government has put a hurt on these establishments already (at least in my neck of the woods) with stricter enforcement of DUI laws. Three bars in my little town have closed in the last few years because the police just wait outside until closing time. This could put the nail in the coffin, so to speak.

But targeting the service clubs? The very folks that fight for freedom get NO say about what they do on property they have paid for? We can’t be trusted to decide amongst ourselves whether we will allow smoking in a private facility??
We own this place. We have paid for it and CONTINUE to pay for it. Not anyone can walk in to our Post; in fact, if you don’t know the door code, you’re not getting in at all.

Good Lord, what next? Is the government going to take the salt shaker off my table because it’s unhealthy?

I’d really like to hear from Tammi and Contagion about this.

Wednesday, July 25, 2007

July 25, 2005- No Regrets

Two years ago today, my son Joel and his friend Adam went out on a patrol in Samarra.

Joel came back. Adam did not.

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(CBS) PORTAGE, Ind. One of the youngest soldiers to fight in the Iraqi war was killed in the line of duty.

Adam Harting was barely old enough to legally drink. Despite his young age, he enthusiastically wanted to serve his country.

CBS 2's Suzanne LeMignot reports on a family trying to come to grips with his death.

"He believed very strongly in what he was doing. He loved his country and he loved his friends and family," said Adam’s father, Jim Harting.

Jim Harting says at the tender age of 11, his son, Army Spc. Adam Harting, wrote down his goals for his father. Enlisting in the military was one of them.

"Even in the fifth grade he pretty much had things planned out for himself. He knew exactly where he wanted to go,” Jim Harting said.

On Monday, Harting got word his 21-year-old son was dead. An explosive device detonated near his vehicle in Samarra, Iraq.

“There won't be a day that goes by that I won't think of him and miss him," Harting said.

Adam Harting was 19 years old when he was featured in Time magazine in 2003 as one of the youngest soldiers to arrive in Kuwait as part of the American invasion of Iraq. At 18, he had only been out of high school for six months when he was called to duty.

"He served proudly. He really and truly did," Jim Harting said.

Adam would have been home two months ago for good, but his tour of duty was extended. With that in mind, Adam's death is especially hard for his twin brother, Alex.

"They were one person that was split in two and, he was, he was a best friend," the boys’ father said.

Adam's father said, he feels blessed he was just able to see his son a few weeks ago. He came home for two and a half weeks and arrived to see his dad on Father's Day.

Adam Harting is the 13th member of the U.S. military from northwest Indiana killed in Iraq and Afghanistan.

Harting's death is also being mourned here at CBS 2. Two years ago on Mother's Day, Harting phoned home from Iraq on a CBS satellite phone.

CBS 2 cameraman John Truitt set up the call. They became friends when Harting guarded the perimeter for U.S. journalists in Baghdad.

He remembers a young Indiana kid amazed by TV news but who also was a grizzled veteran of the war.

“In this business, you meet a lot of people from all walks of life, heads of state, professional athletes, entertainers, extraordinary people. I don’t think I could think of anybody more memorable than him. He was polite, honest, engaging, very smart," Truitt said.

They saw each other just last month when Adam was on leave. At that time, Truitt gave him the CBS cap he'd worn in Iraq. The last thing he told Adam was to bring it back.

One thing I didn't know at the time was that the despicable shitheads from Fred Phelps' cult had shown up at Adam's funeral.

We told them that Adam Harting being blown up by an IED is the judgment of God and that all God’s judgments are righteous and we are to be thankful for all of God’s judgments and we are to wash our feet in the blood of the wicked. We told them that Adam Harting is not a hero; that he fought for a fag country and that God killed him in shame, and that his burial should be as the burial of an ass.

I would exhaust my monthly ration of curse words just attempting to respond to that abomination.

Two years later, Adam's death still has a profound impact on our family. I have told before that Joel has a tattoo for Adam on his arm. He also has a rear window sticker on his car for him, the soldier's memorial. I think in large part, that is why Joel re-enlisted. I can only hope that Adam's family knows that he is not forgotten, and never will be.


You know the new magnet I got for my car?

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It was stolen last night. Thank goodness I bought 5 of them.

Tuesday, July 24, 2007

At Which Point I Am Divorced

I have to get this off my chest, because I am laughing hysterically at my desk for no apparent reason.

Last Saturday, Old Sarge came in from picking green beans for me and announced he was going to get a shower and head for Wal-Mart. Now, I know he had an upset stomach because I was the unfortunate soul who used the bathroom next. He made the comment that he had some God-awful gas going on and I believed him. I didn’t think too much about it until the phone rang and he came out in his undershorts to answer it. Old Sarge is walking around the living room, talking on the phone and he turns his back to me. There, right in the middle of his sagging back end, is a huge brown stain. Oh dear, I’m thinking, he sharted.

And I started laughing. Hard. Can’t-get-your-breath-tears-rolling-down-your-face-sides-are-killing-you hysterically laughing. Doubled over, can’t talk, high-pitched wheezing laughter. He doesn’t know what the hell I’m laughing about, just keeps walking around, which makes me laugh even harder if that’s possible. Until he makes ready to sit in his recliner.

RM: NO!!!!
OS: What??
RM: You c-c-can’t s-s-sit down BWAHAHAHAHA!
OS: What in the hell is wrong with you?
RM: M-m-m-me? N-n-nothing, but y-y-you h-have (gasp!) POOP all over y-y-your shorts! BWAHAHAHAHA!
OS: (turns around to look) Oh shit!
OS: (running to bathroom) Don’t you DARE tell anyone about this!

Well, I didn’t tell just anyone!

That's About Right

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Hat Tip to Techography

Monday, July 23, 2007

Food Preservation and Harry Potter

This is something I haven't given much thought to, but I do believe canning could be considered a marathon sport. At least the backs of my legs are thinking so.

On Saturday morning, Old Sarge picked green beans while I started snapping and washing them. The first picking is almost always the biggest, and we had more than 5 5-gallon buckets filled to overflowing.

Then, sterilize the jars and lids, pack in the beans, add boiling water and start canning- 7 quarts at a time.

I ended up with 50 quarts.

By 1:00 a.m. on Sunday morning, I was finishing up my last batch and was halfway through Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows.

Oh, the tomatoes are getting ready too.

Friday, July 20, 2007

Weekends Are Made For Relaxing

Anyone have big plans for the weekend?

Just a little disclaimer here- my husband is wonderful. Really. He puts up with me and that takes a pretty big pair.


When I left for Texas, the house was reasonably clean, except for the dining room, where I have boxes and boxes of VF*n*W stuff I need to get organized.
And while I was gone, Old Sarge tore out one wall of lathe and plaster in the living room and put up drywall. I am pretty sure he must have cut the drywall inside, because there is dust.

We have alot of “stuff” from Old Sarge’s 20+ years of service. It all needs dusted. The drapes and blinds need washed. The ceiling fans. It will take me forever to locate and terminate with great prejudice all the dust.

Add to that, the green beans and beets are going crazy out in the garden and I HAVE to can them, immediately if not sooner.

We have weeds everywhere, in the driveway, up against the fence, all around the boat (which will most likely not get in the river this year), seriously, Jackass Acres looks like a dump.

If anyone knows of any itinerant workers who’d love to work in the “field” and take care of my lawn, I’d be much obliged.

Stork Alert

I have failed to mention, I am going to be a grandmother again. Sometime in March or April.

Thursday, July 19, 2007

Why NOT to Shop at the PX

While I was at Ft. Hood, I visited the PX a few times. I don't have alot for summer casual clothes and they had shorts 75% off.

There might have been a good reason for such a great sale.

The snap on one pair has already bit the dust. This isn't a huge deal, since I can just put a button there instead. But the pair I have on today?

The zipper's stuck.

Three cups of coffee and a Diet Coke later, the damn zipper is stuck.

What's Great About Small Towns

This year, I am treasurer of the Ladies Auxiliary VFW, a position I have not held before, and I am in WAY over my head at the moment. There's an awful lot to the job, and as of now, I have all the stuff I need still packed in the boxes the previous treasurer packed for me. I did find the stamps, though, so at 3:30 a.m. I was getting bills ready to mail out. No lights, no coffee.

It was after I dropped them in the mailbox that I realized I probably didn't put enough postage on them. I had no idea if, in addition to the 2-cent stamps I used, if the others were 37 or 39-cents. Then I had to have my doubts just exactly how much postage runs these days.

Yes, I can be THAT oblivious.

Soooo, I called Old Sarge and explained myself and asked if maybe, please, could he stop by the post office and let them know of my dilemma? God bless this man for his patience. He did, and the Postmistress (who we went to school with) pulled my letters out. Two were fine, and one had no postage whatsoever. I have no idea how I managed that.

The moral of the story is twofold- don't do bookwork before the sun rises or without coffee, and NEVER move away from a place that still cares enough about people to go the extra mile.

Wednesday, July 18, 2007

Rant Alert and Things Better Left Unsaid

I have a burr up my ass. A big one. And it's been eating away at me for quite some time now. I just didn't realize how pissed I was until a few weeks ago.

My boss's wife stopped by my office with some promotional material for a project she is involved with, Quilts For Valour. D is very into basket weaving,(insert your own joke here)quilting and other crafts. I was scanning the material when:

D: Since we can't do anything about the President, I wanted to get involved in this.
RM: *blink* Well ,that's nice that you can do something for the soldiers.
D: Of, that's right, you have a boy in the service. Aren't you just sick about it?
RM: I have several. And, no.

That was as polite as I could be. Then a few days ago, one of the drivers asked about my "vacation" and where I had gone.

RM: I went to Ft. Hood to help out one of my sons.
Driver: Is that an Army base?
RM: Yep, it is.
Driver: You've got a son in the Army?
RM: Several.
Driver: My God, woman, you must be scared to death, what with Bush's war and all. He's not going over to that fucking mess, is he?

What drives me nuts about all this is that something I take alot of pride in, having sons that want to serve their country, is the source of pity from others.

This happens all the time, and I am fucking tired of it. Take your pity and your Leftist bullshit and shove it up your ass!

I am PROUD of my husband, who served for over 20 years and is very sorry that his war finished too soon and our boys are trying to finish it.

I am PROUD of my boys for the men they have become.

If you can't relate to that, kindly stop trying to talk to me.

Tuesday, July 17, 2007

Blue Tuesday

God, I miss the 80’s.

Monday, July 16, 2007


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I found AND ordered it!

P. S. to Big Dick

I'm sorry we couldn't hook up Sunday, too, but you have my permission to use as the poster child for Fatty Friday!

Shit, where did my neck get to?

Back From Texas

Good morning, y’all! I am back from deep on the heart of Texas, where I have never sweated so much in my life!

Does it look like I’m about to cry? This was the aftermath of Jester’s Hotter Then Hell wings. I was in agony.
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Young SGT is getting around pretty well. Physical therapy is not his favorite thing, but it’s necessary. And he still informs the young enlisted guys that he is thoroughly capable of administering the one-legged flying crutch ass-whopping if needed.
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Young SGT knows I loves me a good VF*n*W while I’m away from home. We went to Copperas Cove the first night I got in, but became regulars at Killeen. They were extremely nice there, and by the time I left, I was getting hugs from everyone. Now, every Post has a fixture, and I think this guy, Papa Smurf, was Killeen’s:
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One thing I loved about this VFW was that there are a lot of soldiers that go there and are completely welcomed. They are so young, you just want to pinch their cheeks and take them home for supper.

I made time to go to the 1st Cavalry Museum one day, and I am so glad I did. You’re not allowed to take pictures inside, but I do have a story for AWTM. There was a huge area covering the Cavalry’s actions in Viet Nam, including the Ia Drang Valley. Rick Rescorla’s picture, the one used on the cover of We Were Soldiers, was on the wall. I was reading the wall, and from behind me came the voice of a man telling who Rick Rescorla was and what he did on 9/11. I wanted to turn around and thank the guy, but there were a lot of people milling around and I wasn’t sure who had said it. AWTM, I hope you feel vindicated.

I took the walk outside to see all the equipment, and then walked a little farther to an area set up for memorials.
This one is for 3rd Armored Cavalry Regiment, Young SGT’s unit:
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It was very beautifully done.

I got to do a lot of shopping at the PX and military clothing store, getting surprises for Old Sarge and cheap shorts for myself. One vendor that had been in the area that I was hoping to connect with was a guy who sells the ribbon magnets. He was usually near the PX, but of course, wasn’t while I was there. I kept seeing these black ribbon magnets that said “Some Asshole Stole My Support Ribbon”. I guess I could have stolen one off the back of someone’s car, but how ironic would THAT be? And let me tell you, I have not missed shopping at the commissary AT ALL. All these old retirees, blocking the aisles. And then I thought, um, yeah, that would be ME.

Base housing yard art:
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All in all, I got to spend some good quality time with my son, see the new Harry Potter movie and quaff some adult beverages. Good times, folks, good times.

Monday, July 09, 2007

Checking In

Good morning, folks! Blogging live from Liberty Village, Ft. Hood Texas.

It is always an experience for me to travel. Nothing drives home my hick-ness more than negotiating large airports. Surprisingly, I manages DFW with no problem, even used the Sky Link to get to the next gate. One thing that I am sorry I missed was the Welcome Home Greeters that Dallas is famous for. But, on the flight to Killeen, there were almost a dozen soldiers from the 1st Cav coming home for R & R. I tried to visit with a few of them, but honestly, they were too intent on getting home and who can blame them?

It is hot here, and incredibly WET. I didn't picture this part of Texas as being so green, but it is. On my first night here, we went to a place called Jester's. Now, I am a hot wing lover, but I can testify, Jester's Mega-Hot wings are the hottest I have ever had anywhere. Young SGT and I managed three a piece before we depleted a pitcher of Amber Bock. It took fifteen minutes before the pain went away. I thought my heart would stop. Young SGT thought he had an epiphany- I have reconfirmed the existence of Satan.

Yesterday we took the Beloved DIL to the airport for her trip to Germany. I know she is dreading this, and I can only pray it goes well. She lost her mother while they were moving from Georgia to Texas, and I know this is going to be very hard for her.

Today is YOung SGT's first day of physical therapy. I think I may pick up some adult beverages at the commissary today. One of us will need it, I'm sure. Old Sarge has informed me that he has started tearing down the lathe & plaster in the living room. I am afraid- VERY afraid.

Time to check on everyone else- later!

Friday, July 06, 2007

Outta Here

Tomorrow at this time I will be on final approach to DFW, then off to catch a flight to Ft. Hood for some much needed time with Young SGT. The ten-day forecast calls for 90's and rain. Yippee, so much for working on my tan.

Not sure if I'll be posting or not.

Thursday, July 05, 2007

4th of July

One of the nice things about our VFW Post is the level of involvement from our younger vets:

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My son, in the BDU’s, and another soldier, Scott, had never met before, but it turns out that Scott’s unit relieved Joel’s in Samarra. They ended up talking for hours.
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Our volunteers are so young that the Commander’s son drove our beer coolers- IN THE PARADE!!
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If you leave out the part that the only fireworks I saw were the ones between me and Old Sarge (and not in a good way) it was a lovely day.

Tuesday, July 03, 2007

The Poker Run

Old Sarge and I went on our first Poker Run this past weekend. Imagine the horror the bartender must have felt with this crew swarming the bar:

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We were the only ones in a car. Eh, what the hell. It was a fundraiser.
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FIVE VF*n*W’s in one day was brutal:
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All those bikes looked cool lined up outside:
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Wilma does Jaeger Bombs:
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Old Sarge gets his Cool on:
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Hammer and JB from work made it out:
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Old Sarge has now decided he needs a bike, although he has never ridden one before.

OS: I want a bike.
RM: No.
OS: Seriously, we need a bike.
RM: No.
OS: We could have a lot of fun with a bike.
RM: No.
OS: How about a trike?
RM: *blink*
RM: Sell the boat first.

Happy Anniversary!

Old Sarge, I don't know if you still stop by here, but I just want to let you know you have been the best thing for me.

Two more years and I'm vested!

Monday, July 02, 2007

Tag, I'm It.

Tammi tagged with a meme, damn it! I don't know if I can even come up with eight things about myself that are the slightest bit interesting, but here goes:

So here are The Rules: Each player lists 8 facts/habits about themselves.The rules of the game are posted at the beginning before those facts/habits are listed.At the end of the post, the player then tags 8 people and posts their names, then goes to their blogs and leaves them a comment, letting them know that they have been tagged and asking them to read your blog

1. I did not have any cartilege in my nose until I was in my twenties. When I was a kid, I could squish it flat like a boxer.

2. I have never been able to snap my fingers.

3. When I turned thirty, I got a tattoo of a coyote howling at the moon. No, I'm not telling where. And T1G, don't you be telling either!

4. I have to eat the crust off a sandwich first before anything else. I didn't want to eat it as a kid, but Mom made me because she said it would give me curly hair. So I eat that first to git 'er done, and sure enough, I have curly hair.

5. Sometimes I dream about things that come true later.

6. I am part Native American.

7. My family can entertain themselves for hours just by belching and farting.

8. I am absolutely scared to death of ice cubes and balloons.

I'm not tagging anyone, but feel free to share your own facts and habits in the comments.