Father-Daughter Ball

Tonight, M & I went to our first Father-Daughter Ball.  I suppose it's one of the few nice benefits to my orders being delayed.

What an experience!  First of all, due to the air-conditioning not working, it was hideously warm. But, aside from that...

It was really something to see all of these Soldiers (and one Airman, and one Soldier from Chile!) dressed in their finest uniforms, most with enough ribbons and awards and badges hanging off of them that finding fabric wasn't always easy.  And the girls... wow, they were of all ages. I saw many barely tall enough to reach the knees, all the way to some who were just about to crest into impending womanhood.

It was not your typical military formal event.

First, people dance what they know... so, it was something to see the MSG with 20+ years dancing with his lil' young-un... and doing one of the finer "I'm a Little Teapot" that will sadly never be seen on Dancing With the Stars.

But, what struck me most were the slow dances.  Reading uniforms, many of these Soldiers had missed 50% or more of their dance partners lives.  The floor, and aisles, were packed as all of us ensured we had a chance to dance with the best dates we'll ever have.

Many were probably like me, teaching their girls how to dance.  For me, that was interesting, as I am the epitome of the wallflower/white boy who can't dance.  But, SHE didn't know that!

I choked back tears during the songs, "There Goes My Life" and "Butterfly Kisses".  I am blessed with my little girl.  And it was my Honor to have that dance.  One day, I grudgingly accept, she'll have her arms wrapped around someone else and will be nestled into him... and I'll have to give her away.

But, she'll always be Daddy's Little Girl, and I had the First Dance.  I suspect neither of us (nor many others there) will ever forget.

Enjoying Bunny droppings...

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T's Message to Mommy

As we came home from T's birthday party, he made a request that caught me completely by surprise.  He said he wanted to send a message to Mommy.  

New Torture Device

New torture device. This is to move my joint through increasing range of movement. Must be used a minimum of four hours a day! Have to keep it right at where it hurts - a lot - for best results.
Whee!

Update on The Foot

Well, I'm sitting at the hospital waiting on a new prescription. We had the Big Unveiling of the surgery site. I was eager to see what it looked like. It'd been covered for almost two weeks, and finally, would see how things went. Did the pain come from the surgery, the foot itself, the bandage...? Well, it turns out I'm making good progress. No infection, light swelling... I just have to stay off of it still (ARRRGGGHHHH), still no water- thus no bath or shower (see previous ARRRGGGHHHH), and I can now begin the torture sessions of increasing mobility through interesting little devices. So, I await more of my sweet, wonderful drugs... and it was nice to experience fresh air. But soon, back to confinement. Wheeee. Sent from Yahoo! Mail on Android

Hundreds shorn in solidarity to support cancer patients - Family - NewsObserver.com

Hundreds shorn in solidarity to support cancer patients - Family - NewsObserver.com

They Sit Amongst Us...

I'm having lunch in my hospital's dining facility.  It's a typical scene.  People are hustling back and forth, tv's are blaring the latest Hollywood scandal, some are on cell phones, and a few clusters are enjoying their break from the hectic pace of today's medicinal world.

And there, at one of the tables, he sits.  If you didn't know, and few do, he's a Hero. I know this man.  He's an honest-to-goodness H-E-R-O.  He is a recipient of the Medal of Honor.

But, he sits quietly in anonymity.  It's how he likes it.

He smiles and his voice is light and full of levity.  Yet, if you look, you can see that his body tells a tale of a dark day long ago. Sixty years now, a lifetime for many.

And Life swirls around him...

Our Nation's heroes aren't always easy to spot. They're not always festooned with, deals, or on tv, or riding the back of a convertible with a young & pretty Miss Somethingorother riding beside.

They sit quietly among us, and we're blessed to have them here.  For without them having faced those dark days of theirs, in battles that most hope that we'll never see (and a few fear they will), we would not have our light and carefree times now, when a Hero can sit amongst us... his daughter helping his gnarled body... in quiet anonymity.

Poem by e.e. cummings

One of my closest friends (I'm looking at you, M*A) who's been with our family since the founding of this blog, sent me this poem.  It seems to fit and is very appropriate.

i carry your heart with me(i carry it in
my heart)i am never without it(anywhere
i go you go,my dear; and whatever is done
by only me is your doing,my darling)
i fear
no fate(for you are my fate,my sweet)i want
no world(for beautiful you are my world,my true)
and it's you are whatever a moon has always meant
and whatever a sun will always sing is you

here is the deepest secret nobody knows
(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud
and the sky of the sky of a tree called life;which grows
higher than the soul can hope or mind can hide)
and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart

i carry your heart(i carry it in my heart)

Thank you for this poem.  It's very, very true.

1460 vs 1

Well, here it is.  Almost.  Tomorrow is The Day, but I'm not going to quibble.

Tomorrow will mark four years.  1460 days have passed, and still there are days where tomorrow will feel like yesterday.

I'm trying to not slip into the tailspin that so easily tempts this time of year, to step into the yawning foggy abyss.  I smile to those (who don't know) who wish me a jaunty Happy New Year.  And I try to not let that dreary, mournful tune of Auld Lang Syne worm its way into my head.

But, it's not an easy battle.  The countdown that has been ticking and building over the past couple of months is now practically bleating in my head.  It's unavoidable, no matter how much I try to avoid it.

There's something very un-Scarlett about it; tomorrow is not "another day".  It's The Day.

And don't think the symbolism isn't lost upon me.  New Year's Eve - out with the old, the New Year bringing "new starts", a "fresh life", etc.  Meh.

There are plenty of things I don't remember... where things are, names of people if I haven't seen them at least five (or fifty) times, and so forth.  But, I remember every detail, every second, of The Day. 

I remember it all... from start to end.  And I remember the New Year... sitting there in a quiet house, not really knowing what else to do, not able to sleep, or anything else... watching the ball drop - feeling very detached from The World.

And so it is each year - as The World celebrates and tries to decide where to party, I cannot help but feel away from it all.  I cannot envisage celebrating or partying.  It seems to rank as sacriligeous as chugging communal wine at a frat party.

I'm going to attempt sleep, not that I've been all that successful the last several days, but that's not new.  And for anyone who's paying attention who might have some control over such things... I'd really like to skip tomorrow.

Twas a Night in December

Cancer, Again

:(
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What do you think was the greatest invention in your lifetime?

The personal computer. It revolutionized the flow of information, eventually to all corners of the globe. From that flow of information, everything else follows - new inventions, quest for knowledge, even revolutions in government.

Ask me anything

That Time of Year (Again)

It’s that time of year… again.  My mind gears towards numbers and dates.  As such, around this time of year, my mind automatically starts what I’ve come to call The Countdown.  Many of the significant dates of 2005-2006 landed in November and December.  Lots of ‘little anniversaries’.  And I remember them all.

 

It ends up starting a bit of a mini-depression, but I’ve gotten better at riding through it.

 

Still, one thing… well, one of many, I suppose… of the whole process and aftermath of losing someone is this:  You do get better at getting through and adapting to the New Life.  However, no matter how much time passes, from time to time… a memory will come along and slap you upside your head.

 

The past day or two, I’ve kinda felt something… dragging at me.  Hard to explain, just didn’t feel ‘right’.  Was really feeling E.  Flipping through tonight, I caught what it was.  A new commercial… I’d heard it vaguely the other day, but was in another room, and hadn’t realized it.  It’s a new toy, something about a Weeble treehouse.  I have a crystal clear memory of E sitting on the floor, rocking and signing with the kidlets, “Weeble wobble…. Weeble Wobble… Weebles wobble but they don’t fall… DOWN!”  Made me smile and giggle back then… now, well, I smile… and feel wistful.  

 

And The Countdown has begun.

Last Combat Brigade Leaves Iraq

It's quite the news this week.  The "last" combat brigade has left Iraq.  The war is over!  Yay!

Or...

Not quite.

We still have 50K troops in Iraq, and they're now called "Advise and Assist Brigades".  Snort.  Whatever.  The point that the media seems to have missed is this:  Have the insurgents and al-Qaeda withdrawn the last of their combat troops?  No?

Hmmm... then I guess the war isn't over (sorry about the timetable), and that brings us to one last salient point.  When the bullets and IEDs and other explosive munitions fly between people, it doesn't matter if they're called "combat" troops or not... it's still combat.

War doesn't end because of the press release announcing it's over... it ends when both sides agree it's over.  Whether by treaty, defeat, annihilation, whatever.

So INCREDIBLY Frustrated

I'm scouring my hard drive for a picture of the "Four Generations"... Great-Grandmother, E's Mom, E, and our daughters...  can't find it.

This is becoming a quest now.  I MUST find this... Thought I might have posted it here, but, I can't find it here, either.  GRRRR.

TreasuryDirect.gov

I'd noticed on my pay statements that there was now a new way to sign up for US Savings Bonds.  Naturally curious, I took a peek.

It's Treasury Direct and it's where you can buy savings bonds and apparently, judging from the intensely overpopulated home page, a whole bunch of other things.

I started the sign up process which, like many Government signups involves waiting for a code to come in the mail.

I'm in no particular hurry to buy a savings bond, so... is cool, I can wait.

Today, the code arrived.  I was a tad confused at first, as it was a credit card sized piece of plastic with a code grid on it.  Lots of warnings about "Don't lose the card" because I'll need it EACH AND EVERY TIME I log in.  No saving passwords here!

Folks, I looked at this and my first thought was... I'm not wanting to launch the nuclear missiles, for crying out loud... I just thought I'd consider buying a savings bond (I hear-tell the government is in a bit of debt, and could use some funds).

Here's the login process:
Find the login starting spot...  There is NO item saying "Login here" or handy-dandy login button... After some scrutiny, I discovered it.

Enter my Account code... oh yes, this 10-character combination emailed to me a ways back.  Found it.  Glad I didn't delete that!

Enter your password.  The government has also fallen in love with the "Virtual Keyboard".  This little annoyance is so keyloggers won't know your password.  It also slows you down a few seconds.  No matter, I moused my way around.

New screen.  New security procedure...

Enter my serial number for my launch code card.  Got it.

Now, Mr. President, I need you to look up the codes for the following grid squares... it asks for 3.  Success!  I'm in... I'm ready to nuke Moscow or... consider buying a savings bond.

Here's the deal, Mr. and or Ms. Bureaucracy... security is a good thing.  Hey, I'm all for it.  Pretty great concept.  This website is merely one step away from asking for a retinal scan!  If you make something too difficult or annoying, people will not use it.

I'm going to lose my launch codes... I just know it.  So, the next time I get the urge to dabble in savings bonds or other treasury instruments, I'm going to have to wait a couple of weeks for another code-card to be mailed to me.  Or, I can go buy stocks and mutual funds online rather instantly, or should the paranoia kick in too deeply, my mattress is in the next room.  (Here's my security steps for the mattress:  1) I'm not telling you which mattress.  2) There's an alarm on the house.  3) The guns are loaded.  4) I may or may not have a ferocious attack animal.  5) I'm fairly low on the financial totem-pole; really, look for a McMansion and try their mattress!)

So, now that I know that I, too, could read the codes should I ever get chosen to launch nuclear missiles, my dabbling in the wonderful world of US Debt instruments is brought to an end.  Really, it's just not worth the hassle for something that won't fully mature for 30 more years anyway (before the angry emails pour in, yes, I know... there are other options - I'm making a point.)

Hack away, evil-doers!  I'll even give you some hints.  One of the characters of the account code is a "6".  And one of the grid squares is a T.

Random Thought

Anyone think that Mrs. Incredible complains about stretch marks?

Comfort Zone Camp

These folks are Saints.  Watch the video.

Visit msnbc.com for breaking news, world news, and news about the economy

If you know of a family that needs help, they should contact CZC... or, if they have questions about what it's like, I'll chat with them.

Enough Already!

There is no questioning my deep love and affection for someone who's been my partner for the past eleven years.  He's incredibly special to me, and those who see us can tell that our bond is very strong.

I love the little furball.

Truth be told, he's not that little.  Recent weigh-ins have him at 18 pounds, and folks, he's lean.  Muscular.

Together, he and I have been through quite a lot.  He's patient with me (usually), comforts me when I'm down, has taught my kids to walk (no kidding), and no matter where we have lived - he's managed to demonstrate a level of abject sluttiness unrivaled in the biped community (it's tame, really... he learns the timetable of the neighborhood bus stops and will always be there to greet the children and ensure he receives plentiful tummy rubs.  A complete slut, is he.)

But.

(Y'all knew that was coming, didn't you?)

My kitty could be the picture for every month on the "Stop Furry Bulimia" fund-raising calendar.  For over five years, and a similar number of veterinarians, he's suffered from chronic vomiting.  Initially, we thought he was being selfish and hoarding food from his little sister (RIP).  But, she's gone, and he continues.

With such a lengthy history, patterns have even been discerned.  For example, he always vomits four times.  The first is always the most productive, but there will be four.  Never three, never five, and six is unheard of.  Four.

He also refuses to get up to vomit.  Wherever he may be when the urge overcomes him, that's where the fun shall begin.  Bed.  Bathroom bathmat.  Sofa.  Even Computer.

He must be in agony.  Surely, if I vomited a couple of times every day, I'd be miserable (I'd also be a lot thinner.)

Amazingly, he maintains weight.  How he does that, I don't know.  Neither do the learned vets.

We've tried dry food, wet food, mixed food, this brand, that brand, even prescription food.  You know what?  They all come up the same.

My cat suffers from Bulimia, and there are no known kitty shrinks who can help him.  And we're open to suggestions.

Really, cause this is annoying.  I now live in a house with minimal carpet because of my bulimic cat.  That's right, folks, a recent home-buying decision was heavily influenced by copious feline vomit.

I'm tired of the middle-of-the-night squishy ick.  I'm tired of furniture with stains.  I'm tired of him begging for food because the meal delivered a few minutes ago is now decorating the floors of three different rooms.

I love my cat.  I cannot imagine, nor do I desire to face, one day not having him in my life.  But... this has got to stop!

For his sake... for mine...

Ick!

What A Difference 150 (or so) Years Makes

A tad over 150 years ago, the States were arguing with the Federal government. Large among the debates were the concepts that the states are sovereign and they could nullify Federal laws (see: Nullification).

Now, we have the Federal government trying to nullify State laws because they encroach upon the sovereignty of the Federal government.

Back then, it was part of the path to tearing the Union apart. And as opposite as the scenario is now, it's quite likely the more things change...
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