I started this post on September 2, 2009. Long.Time.Ago. But, I'm going to finish it now, April 23, 2010. LT Dan had been at home with me only three months. We were watching Mythbusters. I get tired of them, but ok, one has to make adjustments. An Army commercial comes on...and there, one after the other, two captains, a major and a colonel appear. Each one a familiar face, people we know, people LT Dan worked with, wives and families I met along the way. Who would have thought.
The hard part was, for the first time LT Dan knew he wasn't a part of that world any more, a new door had opened. Bittersweet.
Wednesday, September 2, 2009
Friday, April 17, 2009
What a long strange trip...
and it isn't really over yet. I have a feeling we'll be dealing with this for a long time.
We're in the Army again, LT Dan worked his magic and fixed it all and I got my prescription. But. We're out of the Army in May. Or medically retired temporarily anyway. His medical board things have all gone through and now I have dates, with the exception of the movers that he hasn't called yet. Add to that there is a last minute medical thing we found out about yesterday that will cause a huge amount of problem later. Peachy.
This means LT Dan will be coming home to me very soon. I have to figure out how to live with him full-time after years of living with him part-time. Things like share the remote, no, repossess the remote is probably going to be the right term, how to get him to put the toilet seat down so my hoo-hoo doesn't take any unexpected dips...So many things and really those are just the little ones. I'm a little worried about all this. I might need help. Having been pretty independent souls for all this time, this is a big adjustment for both of us.
Of course, LT Dan isn't thinking so. When I say anything he just says, "oh, it will be fine" Ummm I hope so but I think it will take some work and compromise and adjustment.
Meanwhile I'm trying to find a job, nobody wants to hire me of course, I've been out of the work place the entire time Dan has been in the service. Its frustrating and daunting and sometimes just makes me want to cry. I kick myself for not staying in the workforce and of course that isn't really helping.
Next month I'll get to see my husband. The Widget and I will need to go to the Cave for the last time to clear post, get new id's and fill out myriad papers. For my part, I'm a bit sad, I see my husbands goals and aspirations officially going out the window and no matter what he says, that has to hurt. He's strong, he'll recover and reset, I'm female, I still see the "has to hurt" part.
On the other hand, I really won't miss the 8 hour drive. I really won't miss the Cave. I really won't miss my husband because I'll have him home and we get to start the next chapter actually together in the same place at the same time.
On and forward...
We're in the Army again, LT Dan worked his magic and fixed it all and I got my prescription. But. We're out of the Army in May. Or medically retired temporarily anyway. His medical board things have all gone through and now I have dates, with the exception of the movers that he hasn't called yet. Add to that there is a last minute medical thing we found out about yesterday that will cause a huge amount of problem later. Peachy.
This means LT Dan will be coming home to me very soon. I have to figure out how to live with him full-time after years of living with him part-time. Things like share the remote, no, repossess the remote is probably going to be the right term, how to get him to put the toilet seat down so my hoo-hoo doesn't take any unexpected dips...So many things and really those are just the little ones. I'm a little worried about all this. I might need help. Having been pretty independent souls for all this time, this is a big adjustment for both of us.
Of course, LT Dan isn't thinking so. When I say anything he just says, "oh, it will be fine" Ummm I hope so but I think it will take some work and compromise and adjustment.
Meanwhile I'm trying to find a job, nobody wants to hire me of course, I've been out of the work place the entire time Dan has been in the service. Its frustrating and daunting and sometimes just makes me want to cry. I kick myself for not staying in the workforce and of course that isn't really helping.
Next month I'll get to see my husband. The Widget and I will need to go to the Cave for the last time to clear post, get new id's and fill out myriad papers. For my part, I'm a bit sad, I see my husbands goals and aspirations officially going out the window and no matter what he says, that has to hurt. He's strong, he'll recover and reset, I'm female, I still see the "has to hurt" part.
On the other hand, I really won't miss the 8 hour drive. I really won't miss the Cave. I really won't miss my husband because I'll have him home and we get to start the next chapter actually together in the same place at the same time.
On and forward...
Tuesday, April 7, 2009
Oh Nevermind
Apparently I can't refill my prescription because my husband isn't in the Army any more. He's at work, in uniform....ummmm yeah. Is this the beginning of a nightmare?
my.head.explode.
my.head.explode.
Monday, April 6, 2009
Good karma and other things
You know, I don't usually write about things that happened but today was just a strange day. I went to run errands. Go to the pharmacy and get my prescription, the post office to mail job applications and taxes.
Going to the pharmacy isn't all that convenient, it's on a corner where two pretty heavily traveled highways intersect. It involves lots of u-turns to get in and out of there in some reasonably safe way. So I go in and ask for my prescription which I had called to get refilled ahead. Lady goes away for a few minutes and then comes back to ask me for my id card. Lady goes away again, long time. I'm like ok, what. She comes back after five minutes and tells me I can't pick up my prescription because my insurance system is down. YAY I leave, on the way to the car, the sky opens up and down the rain comes. LOL
Then while I'm making u-turns to go back toward the post office, I see this suv with one of those Calvin of Calvin and Hobbes peeing on something stickers. You know the ones I'm talking about, usually on trucks, Calvin peeing on a Ford if the truck is a Chevy kind of thing. This one was Calvin peeing on:
Jose ______ (some last name)
Deadbeat Dad Since
1992
That's just harsh. Now I know about dead beat Dads. Nonetheless, I would never have put that on my car. Imagine how that must make the child feel!
Ok, so off I go up the road to the post office. I go in, do my thing, come back out, its still raining. There is a woman by my car doing something. I get closer and realize she's trying to figure out how to get her child in her car. Some asshat has parked like less than a foot from the side the child's car seat is on. I can't even figure out how the asshat has gotten out of the vehicle! Child is screaming, it's raining on him, I would scream too I bet. She's just upset, the little boy is not that little, probably 18 months or so, not that easy to wrangle into a car seat on the other side of the car, plus he's screaming. I just told her I would back out, block traffic and then she could back out far enough to get the little boy out of the stroller, into the seat and get the stroller put away. I said I would stay in the way until she was back in her car.
So I did that, blocked traffic in the parking lot and got out to watch the baby while she backed up til I told her to stop at the point she could open that car door, then I hopped back in my car while she got organized. Meanwhile pick up truck man is behind me and very annoyed at the whole thing. He's waving his arms and getting all red faced. I'm ignoring him completely. LA LA LA He's up high, he can SEE what is going on, it's RAINING. Please, just give the girl a BREAK, ok? I didn't yell at him, though the thought crossed my mind, I just decided to keep with the good karma I had going.
That led me to thinking about how we forget things. We forget labor, we forget sleeplessness, we forget not being able to take a shower that is more than five minutes and a long soaking bath? Not in your dreams. We forget how hard it is to just do a simple thing, like go to the post office, when you are alone and have a child. Yeah, pack up the stuff (for included with the title mother is also the title "pack mule"), load it, load the child into the car seat with the all buckles and stuff, make sure you have the stroller. Get to the post office, get the stroller set up, unbuckle all the buckles and stuff, get the kid in the stroller, rebuckle all those buckles. Go in to the post office. Now come out and do it all again. That's just ONE kid. Again, I don't know how you guys do it. I salute you and I'm proud of you and I hope no asshat ever parks so close to you that you have to depend on the kindness of strangers to get back into your car. *sigh*
While I was writing this the pharmacy called, system back up. Guess what, "patient not covered" Ummm what? Husband is still in the Army, we're still married, nothing has changed. God. YAY I get to play with Tri Care tomorrow. Ugh.
Going to the pharmacy isn't all that convenient, it's on a corner where two pretty heavily traveled highways intersect. It involves lots of u-turns to get in and out of there in some reasonably safe way. So I go in and ask for my prescription which I had called to get refilled ahead. Lady goes away for a few minutes and then comes back to ask me for my id card. Lady goes away again, long time. I'm like ok, what. She comes back after five minutes and tells me I can't pick up my prescription because my insurance system is down. YAY I leave, on the way to the car, the sky opens up and down the rain comes. LOL
Then while I'm making u-turns to go back toward the post office, I see this suv with one of those Calvin of Calvin and Hobbes peeing on something stickers. You know the ones I'm talking about, usually on trucks, Calvin peeing on a Ford if the truck is a Chevy kind of thing. This one was Calvin peeing on:
Jose ______ (some last name)
Deadbeat Dad Since
1992
That's just harsh. Now I know about dead beat Dads. Nonetheless, I would never have put that on my car. Imagine how that must make the child feel!
Ok, so off I go up the road to the post office. I go in, do my thing, come back out, its still raining. There is a woman by my car doing something. I get closer and realize she's trying to figure out how to get her child in her car. Some asshat has parked like less than a foot from the side the child's car seat is on. I can't even figure out how the asshat has gotten out of the vehicle! Child is screaming, it's raining on him, I would scream too I bet. She's just upset, the little boy is not that little, probably 18 months or so, not that easy to wrangle into a car seat on the other side of the car, plus he's screaming. I just told her I would back out, block traffic and then she could back out far enough to get the little boy out of the stroller, into the seat and get the stroller put away. I said I would stay in the way until she was back in her car.
So I did that, blocked traffic in the parking lot and got out to watch the baby while she backed up til I told her to stop at the point she could open that car door, then I hopped back in my car while she got organized. Meanwhile pick up truck man is behind me and very annoyed at the whole thing. He's waving his arms and getting all red faced. I'm ignoring him completely. LA LA LA He's up high, he can SEE what is going on, it's RAINING. Please, just give the girl a BREAK, ok? I didn't yell at him, though the thought crossed my mind, I just decided to keep with the good karma I had going.
That led me to thinking about how we forget things. We forget labor, we forget sleeplessness, we forget not being able to take a shower that is more than five minutes and a long soaking bath? Not in your dreams. We forget how hard it is to just do a simple thing, like go to the post office, when you are alone and have a child. Yeah, pack up the stuff (for included with the title mother is also the title "pack mule"), load it, load the child into the car seat with the all buckles and stuff, make sure you have the stroller. Get to the post office, get the stroller set up, unbuckle all the buckles and stuff, get the kid in the stroller, rebuckle all those buckles. Go in to the post office. Now come out and do it all again. That's just ONE kid. Again, I don't know how you guys do it. I salute you and I'm proud of you and I hope no asshat ever parks so close to you that you have to depend on the kindness of strangers to get back into your car. *sigh*
While I was writing this the pharmacy called, system back up. Guess what, "patient not covered" Ummm what? Husband is still in the Army, we're still married, nothing has changed. God. YAY I get to play with Tri Care tomorrow. Ugh.
Friday, March 27, 2009
Civic Duty-DONE & afterword
So going home the day of the final verdict was the same as going home the day before. Police, unmarked cars. That "please God, let me just get home" feeling. I was so glad to be finished I can't tell you. I got home and of course Lisa already knew, she gets to read and watch the news. Then I started reading the links document Lisa made for me. I was so grateful that the jury came to the verdict we did. There were witnesses that REALLY would have cinched it but we weren't allowed to hear at the last minute, there were more people dead and the murderer was paid by the defendant to do the killing. No wonder people were scared. No wonder we had so many guards.
The justice system in this case worked, though I had many doubts during the process about specifically what we were NOT being allowed to see. There were obvious holes in the evidence that once I was able to read what happened in the courtroom when we weren't present were filled. The jurors all knew we were missing things, we had to go on the evidence we had. If we had seen what we missed, known what we were not allowed to know, I have a feeling this sentence would have been death. Hard to say, but I'm reasonably sure the vote would have swung the other way.
Reading the comments on the verdict articles, of course many people that comment like that are nut-balls anyway but its annoying that people can say things when they are totally ignorant of the process. The jury was called a bunch of cowards who wouldn't issue the death penalty, the judge a liberal who wouldn't overturn the jury's verdict and obey the law. Sheesh. Get a clue people. There is law, it is hard and fast and that is what we all go by. The judge CAN'T overturn the jury's verdict. Period. The law is the law, don't like it, change it, but don't call people who spent 11 days of their lives agonizing over this case cowards until you sit in that chair yourself.
I made Lisa take me to a Mexican food place because I wanted a margarita and while I was on the phone with LT Dan she ordered me the biggest one they had. I drank it ALL. Yep, I was sorta smashed, came home and went straight to sleep at eight. LOL
Of course now that I COULD talk about it, husband did not want me to talk about it. I think he didn't understand I needed to get it out of my system. I can't say his saying things like "you don't need to think about that any more" were really helpful. At some point we are going to have to talk about that. Lisa listened, now you have listened. I feel better, thank you.
There is much I can't say, I really don't want to come up on someone's search and I really do want to stay as anonymous as possible. You can ask me and I will answer, and that, by the way is legal, I just won't answer here in public. In the end, two kids went to buy some pot and ended up dead. That just scares the sh*t out of me, the very idea. The lack of conscience. It's stunning really.
The justice system in this case worked, though I had many doubts during the process about specifically what we were NOT being allowed to see. There were obvious holes in the evidence that once I was able to read what happened in the courtroom when we weren't present were filled. The jurors all knew we were missing things, we had to go on the evidence we had. If we had seen what we missed, known what we were not allowed to know, I have a feeling this sentence would have been death. Hard to say, but I'm reasonably sure the vote would have swung the other way.
Reading the comments on the verdict articles, of course many people that comment like that are nut-balls anyway but its annoying that people can say things when they are totally ignorant of the process. The jury was called a bunch of cowards who wouldn't issue the death penalty, the judge a liberal who wouldn't overturn the jury's verdict and obey the law. Sheesh. Get a clue people. There is law, it is hard and fast and that is what we all go by. The judge CAN'T overturn the jury's verdict. Period. The law is the law, don't like it, change it, but don't call people who spent 11 days of their lives agonizing over this case cowards until you sit in that chair yourself.
I made Lisa take me to a Mexican food place because I wanted a margarita and while I was on the phone with LT Dan she ordered me the biggest one they had. I drank it ALL. Yep, I was sorta smashed, came home and went straight to sleep at eight. LOL
Of course now that I COULD talk about it, husband did not want me to talk about it. I think he didn't understand I needed to get it out of my system. I can't say his saying things like "you don't need to think about that any more" were really helpful. At some point we are going to have to talk about that. Lisa listened, now you have listened. I feel better, thank you.
There is much I can't say, I really don't want to come up on someone's search and I really do want to stay as anonymous as possible. You can ask me and I will answer, and that, by the way is legal, I just won't answer here in public. In the end, two kids went to buy some pot and ended up dead. That just scares the sh*t out of me, the very idea. The lack of conscience. It's stunning really.
Civic Duty-part three
Trials in real court are not like television. Much. Evidence gets presented and witnesses get presented but its kind of interesting. The order is not so orderly, it appeared to be rather random to me and the other jurors. We were dismissed a LOT. There was so much evidence we were not allowed to hear or see, we were amazed at that. We would go into the jury room and look at each other and go "well, they're arguing again."
Apparently the defense won a lot of the arguments. We had no way of knowing just how much we were not allowed to know until after the trial was over and we could read the news coverage. THEY are allowed to see everything and print everything. Since this is the only trial I've ever done...I dunno, I'm telling you what I experienced. I asked my sister to make document of links to every single thing she read about the trial so that when it was over I could read it. Bless her, she did it for me.
It's rough to look at pictures of basically children (16 and 17) laying on a dirt road face down after being shot execution style. Autopsy results are icky, pictures of autopsy processes are really icky. At the same time, you have to pay attention to every single detail so you find an objective place in your head and carry on.
Witnesses were interesting. This trial is three years after the fact. The witnesses were very young at the time, and are still very young. It was hard for me not to be aghast at the whole thing. Kids. High school. Good Lord.
Then there were other witnesses, not so young, and not so innocent. The ones in prison for various crimes, all drug related. ICE, Crack, Cocaine, Pot, Armed Robbery. ICK.
There were witnesses that were obviously afraid. That was disconcerting and we all noticed it.
There was one point when we were dismissed and though we weren't allowed to talk about the trial one of the jurors said..."I swear if they brought out the box of ballistic evidence one more time I was going to just cry." Another (male) juror replied with a high-pitched "Noooooooo, not the box! Please not the box!" There were eleven envelopes in that box and four witnesses each identified each of the eleven envelopes. So we are talking forty-four times watching someone identify an envelope, then open the envelope, then open the contents, say what it was and put it back. The entire jury room burst into laughter. Sometimes, you just have to laugh even though the whole thing is life and death serious. That was also the only time we said anything about the trial when we weren't deliberating.
The defendant never took the stand. In a capital case the defense is actually required to do nothing. The onus is on the State to prove the defendant guilty literally beyond a shadow of a reasonable doubt.
There was no "hard" evidence. Every single piece of evidence against the defendant was witness testimony. Wednesday, day six of the trial and day eight for us jurors (I count weekends, you can't get really away from it though I tried hard) we heard closing arguments and went to deliberate. On that day when we arrived we were instructed to return our cell phones to our cars so we had no contact with anyone. Alternates were dismissed and it wasn't me :(
It took us five hours. Five hours. We reviewed every single piece of evidence, then we reviewed every single witness and evaluated the weight of their testimony, we reviewed notes for exact testimony (this is where my college note taking skills really were crucial--I had them all word for word). The verdict in a capital trial has to be unanimous. We strictly followed the law as the judge gave it to us (printed). We had one juror who was not convinced, basically she didn't believe my notes so we went back to the judge and asked that the transcript be read to us. Yep, word for word, I had what that person said. It was a crucial piece. The juror changed her mind and we had a unanimous guilty verdict.
So at 7pm ish we returned to the courtroom with our verdict. Courtroom was packed. The judge reads the verdict and then the defense wants the jury polled. They call your full name, ask if this is your verdict. Peachy keen. People were taken from the court room for being disruptive. Other people were crying. The jury is just trying to maintain and get through this. So we're dismissed again to the jury room.
When we are called back in the judge tells us that tomorrow we do the penalty phase and dismisses us to go home for the day. As we are leaving the court house (those of us who go the same way have begun a system of following each other to the various turn offs and keeping eyes out for each other as we drive home) we see tons of city police in the front parking lot. They have corralled a bunch of people. We get the hell out of Dodge. As each of us turns off we also realize we are all being followed. In the city we have city police, as we leave the city we have unmarked cars. Each turning off or making u-turns at specific points. *blink*
The penalty phase day was just as long. The defendant is now in a prison suit and handcuffed and shackled rather than being dressed in a suit-- you are innocent until proven guilty but once guilty it becomes painfully obvious. We hear prosecution and defense arguments. We retreat to the jury room to deliberate. I don't think any of the jurors slept the night before. We all pretty much knew our verdict but we did the process. Item by item, against the law as the judge gave it to us for the penalty phase. We voted in a blind vote this time to let each juror vote without concern. In the penalty phase the verdict does not have to be unanimous, it is the majority. Vote was three death, nine life in prison. Done.
Apparently the defense won a lot of the arguments. We had no way of knowing just how much we were not allowed to know until after the trial was over and we could read the news coverage. THEY are allowed to see everything and print everything. Since this is the only trial I've ever done...I dunno, I'm telling you what I experienced. I asked my sister to make document of links to every single thing she read about the trial so that when it was over I could read it. Bless her, she did it for me.
It's rough to look at pictures of basically children (16 and 17) laying on a dirt road face down after being shot execution style. Autopsy results are icky, pictures of autopsy processes are really icky. At the same time, you have to pay attention to every single detail so you find an objective place in your head and carry on.
Witnesses were interesting. This trial is three years after the fact. The witnesses were very young at the time, and are still very young. It was hard for me not to be aghast at the whole thing. Kids. High school. Good Lord.
Then there were other witnesses, not so young, and not so innocent. The ones in prison for various crimes, all drug related. ICE, Crack, Cocaine, Pot, Armed Robbery. ICK.
There were witnesses that were obviously afraid. That was disconcerting and we all noticed it.
There was one point when we were dismissed and though we weren't allowed to talk about the trial one of the jurors said..."I swear if they brought out the box of ballistic evidence one more time I was going to just cry." Another (male) juror replied with a high-pitched "Noooooooo, not the box! Please not the box!" There were eleven envelopes in that box and four witnesses each identified each of the eleven envelopes. So we are talking forty-four times watching someone identify an envelope, then open the envelope, then open the contents, say what it was and put it back. The entire jury room burst into laughter. Sometimes, you just have to laugh even though the whole thing is life and death serious. That was also the only time we said anything about the trial when we weren't deliberating.
The defendant never took the stand. In a capital case the defense is actually required to do nothing. The onus is on the State to prove the defendant guilty literally beyond a shadow of a reasonable doubt.
There was no "hard" evidence. Every single piece of evidence against the defendant was witness testimony. Wednesday, day six of the trial and day eight for us jurors (I count weekends, you can't get really away from it though I tried hard) we heard closing arguments and went to deliberate. On that day when we arrived we were instructed to return our cell phones to our cars so we had no contact with anyone. Alternates were dismissed and it wasn't me :(
It took us five hours. Five hours. We reviewed every single piece of evidence, then we reviewed every single witness and evaluated the weight of their testimony, we reviewed notes for exact testimony (this is where my college note taking skills really were crucial--I had them all word for word). The verdict in a capital trial has to be unanimous. We strictly followed the law as the judge gave it to us (printed). We had one juror who was not convinced, basically she didn't believe my notes so we went back to the judge and asked that the transcript be read to us. Yep, word for word, I had what that person said. It was a crucial piece. The juror changed her mind and we had a unanimous guilty verdict.
So at 7pm ish we returned to the courtroom with our verdict. Courtroom was packed. The judge reads the verdict and then the defense wants the jury polled. They call your full name, ask if this is your verdict. Peachy keen. People were taken from the court room for being disruptive. Other people were crying. The jury is just trying to maintain and get through this. So we're dismissed again to the jury room.
When we are called back in the judge tells us that tomorrow we do the penalty phase and dismisses us to go home for the day. As we are leaving the court house (those of us who go the same way have begun a system of following each other to the various turn offs and keeping eyes out for each other as we drive home) we see tons of city police in the front parking lot. They have corralled a bunch of people. We get the hell out of Dodge. As each of us turns off we also realize we are all being followed. In the city we have city police, as we leave the city we have unmarked cars. Each turning off or making u-turns at specific points. *blink*
The penalty phase day was just as long. The defendant is now in a prison suit and handcuffed and shackled rather than being dressed in a suit-- you are innocent until proven guilty but once guilty it becomes painfully obvious. We hear prosecution and defense arguments. We retreat to the jury room to deliberate. I don't think any of the jurors slept the night before. We all pretty much knew our verdict but we did the process. Item by item, against the law as the judge gave it to us for the penalty phase. We voted in a blind vote this time to let each juror vote without concern. In the penalty phase the verdict does not have to be unanimous, it is the majority. Vote was three death, nine life in prison. Done.
Civic Duty-part two
Thursday is day four and we start the trial. There are fourteen of us because there are two alternates. We don't know who the alternates are until after closing arguments, at that point two of us get dismissed so the twelve remaining can begin deliberation. Oh boy, ok here we go.
I am juror number one. We each have an envelope with our number on it at our chairs, chairs are assigned by number too so that's where you always sit. I had a column by me, I was happy about that, it meant only half of the courtroom was looking at me and the line of news people on one side of the courtroom were the other side of my column. News people aren't allowed to take pictures or video of jurors and they are watched carefully to see that they don't, thank goodness. In our envelope is our note pad, we take notes and our note pad stays in the courtroom until we have to deliberate and is locked up at night. The jurors aren't allowed to talk about the case with each other or anyone else. By now, I haven't read a paper or watched the news for four days.
Mostly this first day we are sitting in the jury room waiting. We start two hours after we arrive, hear opening arguments and see our first bits of real information--not evidence but the "story" as presented by prosecution and defense. We are dismissed from the courtroom for another hour after this and return to be dismissed for lunch. I brought my lunch, as planned with two other women on the jury, we have to wear jury tags everywhere we go and the idea of walking a couple blocks to a restaurant with a big X on me didn't appeal really. Since we are spending the majority of our time in a courtroom or in a windowless jury room we decided to eat outside at some picnic tables.
I need to add some things here. The courtroom is guarded. There are two guards for the defendant, two bailiffs at each of the doors and two bailiffs on the other side of my column. Then there is a bailiff that sits up in between the witness stand and us. He's our bailiff who helps us with whatever we need and comes and talks to us when there is a bench conference between attorneys and the judge (so we don't overhear.) So there are nine armed people in this courtroom in addition to it being pretty full of families and other interested folks. I'm really starting to wonder now about just who it is I'm dealing with here.
Beginning the first day of trial we park in a designated area and we are told to arrive in the morning at a specific 15 minute interval. When we arrive there are sheriffs deputy's outside watching for us. We enter through a locked employee door that takes a key card to unlock to come in AND go out. We are wanded, our belongings x-rayed (shoes too) and when we enter the jury room we go in a locked door, down a short hall, in another locked door to the jury room. I started wearing my plastic "its a belt" so I wouldn't have to take my belt off every time I entered the building--my pants kept falling down while I was trying to put my shoes on!
So yeah, this is my world for as long as this trial takes, 13 strangers, lots of guards, locked doors. K, back to lunch. We wait to be let out and tell them we are eating outside at the picnic tables across from our entrance door. Off we go. While we're eating our lunch and getting to know each other we realize there is a deputy outside, he's guarding us. My state of mind has been set to CYA (cover your ass) as it is--all this guarding only heightens that state of mind.
We stay outside as long as we can, with only short "comfort breaks" where I convinced non-smokers to go outside with smokers so we all could have sunshine and fresh air, and lunch time, we are inside a building so we take full advantage of the whole hour to be outside. That's pretty much how it goes for all the remaining days of the trial. A couple of times when we had much longer breaks we walked a block away for coffee, other than that we three stayed right there with our guards.
I think that's all the really wordy stuff so I'll make a part three about the trial part and try not to write a novel?
I am juror number one. We each have an envelope with our number on it at our chairs, chairs are assigned by number too so that's where you always sit. I had a column by me, I was happy about that, it meant only half of the courtroom was looking at me and the line of news people on one side of the courtroom were the other side of my column. News people aren't allowed to take pictures or video of jurors and they are watched carefully to see that they don't, thank goodness. In our envelope is our note pad, we take notes and our note pad stays in the courtroom until we have to deliberate and is locked up at night. The jurors aren't allowed to talk about the case with each other or anyone else. By now, I haven't read a paper or watched the news for four days.
Mostly this first day we are sitting in the jury room waiting. We start two hours after we arrive, hear opening arguments and see our first bits of real information--not evidence but the "story" as presented by prosecution and defense. We are dismissed from the courtroom for another hour after this and return to be dismissed for lunch. I brought my lunch, as planned with two other women on the jury, we have to wear jury tags everywhere we go and the idea of walking a couple blocks to a restaurant with a big X on me didn't appeal really. Since we are spending the majority of our time in a courtroom or in a windowless jury room we decided to eat outside at some picnic tables.
I need to add some things here. The courtroom is guarded. There are two guards for the defendant, two bailiffs at each of the doors and two bailiffs on the other side of my column. Then there is a bailiff that sits up in between the witness stand and us. He's our bailiff who helps us with whatever we need and comes and talks to us when there is a bench conference between attorneys and the judge (so we don't overhear.) So there are nine armed people in this courtroom in addition to it being pretty full of families and other interested folks. I'm really starting to wonder now about just who it is I'm dealing with here.
Beginning the first day of trial we park in a designated area and we are told to arrive in the morning at a specific 15 minute interval. When we arrive there are sheriffs deputy's outside watching for us. We enter through a locked employee door that takes a key card to unlock to come in AND go out. We are wanded, our belongings x-rayed (shoes too) and when we enter the jury room we go in a locked door, down a short hall, in another locked door to the jury room. I started wearing my plastic "its a belt" so I wouldn't have to take my belt off every time I entered the building--my pants kept falling down while I was trying to put my shoes on!
So yeah, this is my world for as long as this trial takes, 13 strangers, lots of guards, locked doors. K, back to lunch. We wait to be let out and tell them we are eating outside at the picnic tables across from our entrance door. Off we go. While we're eating our lunch and getting to know each other we realize there is a deputy outside, he's guarding us. My state of mind has been set to CYA (cover your ass) as it is--all this guarding only heightens that state of mind.
We stay outside as long as we can, with only short "comfort breaks" where I convinced non-smokers to go outside with smokers so we all could have sunshine and fresh air, and lunch time, we are inside a building so we take full advantage of the whole hour to be outside. That's pretty much how it goes for all the remaining days of the trial. A couple of times when we had much longer breaks we walked a block away for coffee, other than that we three stayed right there with our guards.
I think that's all the really wordy stuff so I'll make a part three about the trial part and try not to write a novel?
Friday, March 20, 2009
Civic Duty-part one
Monday, March 9th I had jury duty. I had postponed my civic duty when I was originally called because I was up at The Cave with LT Dan. Peachy. So I show up for jury duty at 8am. Of course it was dark because it's the first day of daylight savings time and of course I'm going to somewhere I have never been. YAY.
I'm totally unprepared for what happens to me...I sign in and get a juror tag, then I get a form. Something like you have been called for a capital murder case called "xxx" (I'm not putting a name-some asshat will find me and harass me), do you know this entire page of people's names. Oh boy. I know one name out of an entire page of names.
Go sit. Find coffee (which btw only exists because one of the judges pays for it). Sit some more. An hour and a half later I've been assigned to group one, and I'm filling out a nosy form. The nosy form asks about who you are, where you live, where you work, your marital status, your children, your criminal status, your victim status, where does your husband live and work...and on and on. It's a triplicate form so everybody gets one, the court, the prosecution and the defense.
They call group one, off we shuffle to the courtroom for voir dire. Voir dire is basically questioning potential jurors. What is lovely about this, is it is done with people present in the courtroom. People you don't know, people who are both family of the defendant and family of the victim. Great, so now, you are answering specific questions about where you live and work, who takes care of your children, where your family lives and works, what you and your family criminal status is, what you and your family victim status is. In detail. LOTS of detail. With your name. Your full name. In front of strangers who in one way or another are involved in murder, drugs, guns, gangs. I love it. Not so much.
Oh yeah, and the death penalty, how do you feel about the death penalty. Have you ever actually thought about how you feel about the death penalty? I mean seriously thought about it? I can't say I had in more than a philosophical way until then.
The one good thing for my voir dire was it was early on a Monday and the first day of daylight savings time, apparently not too many people wanted to get up and go to court quite yet. For later potential jurors the courtroom was full of people. I can't imagine the discomfort for them. Especially when they eventually got picked for this jury.
Husband meanwhile is concerned but not too much on day two of all day jury selection and I am still there. He says, tell me something I can Google. I tell him Google words. He disappears for a while and comes back with "Sweet Jesus" (this does NOT make me feel better and I CAN'T Google so I'm screwed, everybody else knows more than I do!) and then asks me if our neighbor who looks out for me is tracking on all this and I say no and he says "well tell him NOW" Great. Oke doke.
Neighbor goes away (apparently also to Google) and later comes out with his dog and says "I just need to know one thing, do I have your authorization to use lethal force inside your home." *blink* I look at him and say yes, you do. Peachy. Now I'm really not very happy.
Day three of all day jury selection. Yeah. So now I have heard probably better than 120 people answer the nosy questions. One guy basically had PTSD from doing a capital murder trial as a juror like 15 years ago. Oh.my.God. End of the day comes, and these days are long, get there at 8 ish leave at 7 ish. Jury names are called oh great its me. Husband says..."do they pay you?" I say yes, for what that's worth. He says, "oh honey, I knew you would get a job!" Can we say I will beat you now dear husband?
Note to self: Learn to lie. Learn to lie well. You suck at telling lies but you need to figure out how to do it. Never do this again this jury thing. Never. Yeah.
Part two sometime...
I'm totally unprepared for what happens to me...I sign in and get a juror tag, then I get a form. Something like you have been called for a capital murder case called "xxx" (I'm not putting a name-some asshat will find me and harass me), do you know this entire page of people's names. Oh boy. I know one name out of an entire page of names.
Go sit. Find coffee (which btw only exists because one of the judges pays for it). Sit some more. An hour and a half later I've been assigned to group one, and I'm filling out a nosy form. The nosy form asks about who you are, where you live, where you work, your marital status, your children, your criminal status, your victim status, where does your husband live and work...and on and on. It's a triplicate form so everybody gets one, the court, the prosecution and the defense.
They call group one, off we shuffle to the courtroom for voir dire. Voir dire is basically questioning potential jurors. What is lovely about this, is it is done with people present in the courtroom. People you don't know, people who are both family of the defendant and family of the victim. Great, so now, you are answering specific questions about where you live and work, who takes care of your children, where your family lives and works, what you and your family criminal status is, what you and your family victim status is. In detail. LOTS of detail. With your name. Your full name. In front of strangers who in one way or another are involved in murder, drugs, guns, gangs. I love it. Not so much.
Oh yeah, and the death penalty, how do you feel about the death penalty. Have you ever actually thought about how you feel about the death penalty? I mean seriously thought about it? I can't say I had in more than a philosophical way until then.
The one good thing for my voir dire was it was early on a Monday and the first day of daylight savings time, apparently not too many people wanted to get up and go to court quite yet. For later potential jurors the courtroom was full of people. I can't imagine the discomfort for them. Especially when they eventually got picked for this jury.
Husband meanwhile is concerned but not too much on day two of all day jury selection and I am still there. He says, tell me something I can Google. I tell him Google words. He disappears for a while and comes back with "Sweet Jesus" (this does NOT make me feel better and I CAN'T Google so I'm screwed, everybody else knows more than I do!) and then asks me if our neighbor who looks out for me is tracking on all this and I say no and he says "well tell him NOW" Great. Oke doke.
Neighbor goes away (apparently also to Google) and later comes out with his dog and says "I just need to know one thing, do I have your authorization to use lethal force inside your home." *blink* I look at him and say yes, you do. Peachy. Now I'm really not very happy.
Day three of all day jury selection. Yeah. So now I have heard probably better than 120 people answer the nosy questions. One guy basically had PTSD from doing a capital murder trial as a juror like 15 years ago. Oh.my.God. End of the day comes, and these days are long, get there at 8 ish leave at 7 ish. Jury names are called oh great its me. Husband says..."do they pay you?" I say yes, for what that's worth. He says, "oh honey, I knew you would get a job!" Can we say I will beat you now dear husband?
Note to self: Learn to lie. Learn to lie well. You suck at telling lies but you need to figure out how to do it. Never do this again this jury thing. Never. Yeah.
Part two sometime...
Friday, February 27, 2009
The Cost of War
I just, well, go read what Claire says. I'm tired. For me, for my family, this is the cost of war:
October 24, 2003, Baghdad, Sylvester and Zach on Zach's 21st birthday
October 24, 2003, Baghdad, Sylvester and Zach on Zach's 21st birthday
Friday, January 23, 2009
that day again
Robert Fulghum:
"I believe that imagination is stronger than knowledge -- myth is more potent than history -- dreams are more powerful than facts -- hope always triumphs over experience -- laughter is the cure for grief -- love is stronger than death."
My friend Claire left that quote for me last year, and I think it really is true.
I say it's that day again, and it is. But you know, it is that day every day. There isn't a day when I don't think of Zach, when I don't miss him. I don't believe there ever will be. Every day something reminds me of him, something makes me long for a different outcome. Its just the way it is.
Today is five years and it still feels the same...
"I believe that imagination is stronger than knowledge -- myth is more potent than history -- dreams are more powerful than facts -- hope always triumphs over experience -- laughter is the cure for grief -- love is stronger than death."
My friend Claire left that quote for me last year, and I think it really is true.
I say it's that day again, and it is. But you know, it is that day every day. There isn't a day when I don't think of Zach, when I don't miss him. I don't believe there ever will be. Every day something reminds me of him, something makes me long for a different outcome. Its just the way it is.
Today is five years and it still feels the same...
Wednesday, January 21, 2009
More poop disaster *sigh*
I have a good reason for saving up posts. I actually when I thought of something I wanted to say just made a one word post and saved it so I could remember what the hell I was thinking.
The Widget is still sick. While I'm trying to contact references, re-writing my resume in three forms, and applying for jobs, the dog is puking and pooping and doing some strange stretching and twisting. She was so uncomfortable but didn't seem in pain. I can't figure it out, I call the vet and in we go on a Saturday. I have to drop her off and leave her there. We're going to give her barium and watch as it moves through her tummy. Something appears to be in there that doesn't belong. Now mind you, we've already paid a ton of money for this whatever it is and here I am making more bills to pay.
So, several hours later the vet calls and back we go. We're looking at x-rays of Widget's tummy and there IS something in there, heaven knows what. It appears that while she was at the bed and breakfast during our trip home for the holidays she's ingested *something* The something is causing chaos in Widgie's body and her white count is going skyward and she's a mess. Now we have to either get the something to come out, or have surgery to get the something out. Vet wants to delay surgery for another day to maybe let the magic barium "push it through." Ok. Home we go, armed with more antibiotics, pain killers, food supplements.
Back we go the next day. More x-rays. OOO Look! The lovely chalky barium stuff has moved the something. YAY No surgery. But it's still in there. Home we go. Keeping watch on the Widget. More puke, more poop.
The next day, we're walking our morning walk and whatever the something is COMES OUT. Back to the vet, more x-rays. YAY It's OUT. Still antibiotics, food supplements (of good enzymes like we eat in yogurt...yogurt is HELLA cheaper than THIS stuf though, trust me.) But finally, she's eating and not puking and not pooping.
Now for cleaning the entire house carpeting for the second time this month...
Total bill: $732
The Widget will never be going back to that bed and breakfast again, she will be staying with the vet, who puts her in with the cats because in the vet's words "the dogs are too loud and boisterous for her." and won't let her eat things that make her sick and cost us nearly $1,000 dollars. Lord, help me.
The Widget is still sick. While I'm trying to contact references, re-writing my resume in three forms, and applying for jobs, the dog is puking and pooping and doing some strange stretching and twisting. She was so uncomfortable but didn't seem in pain. I can't figure it out, I call the vet and in we go on a Saturday. I have to drop her off and leave her there. We're going to give her barium and watch as it moves through her tummy. Something appears to be in there that doesn't belong. Now mind you, we've already paid a ton of money for this whatever it is and here I am making more bills to pay.
So, several hours later the vet calls and back we go. We're looking at x-rays of Widget's tummy and there IS something in there, heaven knows what. It appears that while she was at the bed and breakfast during our trip home for the holidays she's ingested *something* The something is causing chaos in Widgie's body and her white count is going skyward and she's a mess. Now we have to either get the something to come out, or have surgery to get the something out. Vet wants to delay surgery for another day to maybe let the magic barium "push it through." Ok. Home we go, armed with more antibiotics, pain killers, food supplements.
Back we go the next day. More x-rays. OOO Look! The lovely chalky barium stuff has moved the something. YAY No surgery. But it's still in there. Home we go. Keeping watch on the Widget. More puke, more poop.
The next day, we're walking our morning walk and whatever the something is COMES OUT. Back to the vet, more x-rays. YAY It's OUT. Still antibiotics, food supplements (of good enzymes like we eat in yogurt...yogurt is HELLA cheaper than THIS stuf though, trust me.) But finally, she's eating and not puking and not pooping.
Now for cleaning the entire house carpeting for the second time this month...
Total bill: $732
The Widget will never be going back to that bed and breakfast again, she will be staying with the vet, who puts her in with the cats because in the vet's words "the dogs are too loud and boisterous for her." and won't let her eat things that make her sick and cost us nearly $1,000 dollars. Lord, help me.
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
I want to hold MY husband's hand.
I'm jealous. I've seen the Obamas holding hands all damn day and I would just like to hold my husband's hand.
It sounds silly doesn't it? Everyone talks about what being a military family is like, what we miss, what we sacrifice. For me, I was thinking, it's not being able to hold my husbands hand. Sometimes its just as small as that and those small things add up to a big price we pay for being a military family. Small things, all day, every day.
So anyway, I'm done whining.
We have a new president and lets hope he is a good one. I sent my husband a smart-ass text message telling him he had a new boss at noon. He was too busy working yet another 17 hour day to pay attention to the inauguration. Imagine that.
As always, I will respect the office and support our president.
I am happy that the new first lady appears to be paying attention -- perhaps this will help keep what few benefits we have intact and keep the military budget from being shredded into oblivion. Mostly though, I hope the new guy actually listens to boots on the ground.
Carry on. :)
It sounds silly doesn't it? Everyone talks about what being a military family is like, what we miss, what we sacrifice. For me, I was thinking, it's not being able to hold my husbands hand. Sometimes its just as small as that and those small things add up to a big price we pay for being a military family. Small things, all day, every day.
So anyway, I'm done whining.
We have a new president and lets hope he is a good one. I sent my husband a smart-ass text message telling him he had a new boss at noon. He was too busy working yet another 17 hour day to pay attention to the inauguration. Imagine that.
As always, I will respect the office and support our president.
I am happy that the new first lady appears to be paying attention -- perhaps this will help keep what few benefits we have intact and keep the military budget from being shredded into oblivion. Mostly though, I hope the new guy actually listens to boots on the ground.
Carry on. :)
Sunday, January 18, 2009
Janelle
When I was a little girl, growing up in a suburb of Baltimore called Towson, I had lots of little friends. Today Janelle came to mind. Janelle was one of my favorite friends and she was black. I remember clearly that when we visited each others houses we were always escorted by my mother or her grandmother. There was some particular line, going into each others neighborhoods, we didn't cross it without having an adult with us. This was 1962 or 63. (I know, I'm old) Little white girls didn't go to Janelle's neighborhood and little black girls didn't go to mine without an adult. I'm not sure we actually knew why, but we knew those were the rules.
Thinking about the coming inauguration and Dr. Martin Luther King...I am so happy that if it were today, Janelle and I could be friends without escort, without fear. There has been some progress and progress is good.
Thinking about the coming inauguration and Dr. Martin Luther King...I am so happy that if it were today, Janelle and I could be friends without escort, without fear. There has been some progress and progress is good.
Friday, January 16, 2009
"Call on God, but row away from the rocks."
Yeah. I was listening to some random thing on tv and working hard to get through the federal application system before a Saturday deadline when the news popped in with a plane in the Hudson.
Part of what I was thinking was about how the people of New York City must have felt as they witnessed that sight or heard that sound. The other part was how absolutely, without question, I am not a sheep. I am a sheepdog.
I have traveled a great deal over the course of my career and my life, almost always by plane. There is never a time that I settle in my seat (which I have always chosen to be in the front of the plane or by the wings)without knowing which direction and how many seat backs are between me and the exits, without sizing up where are the children, the elderly, who will need assistance, without having put my little tiny travel purse through the loops of my jeans so that it stays attached to my body and not in my backpack which WILL be left behind. I wear jeans when I fly and I have actually shown up at board meetings in some "other" city, wearing jeans and boots because my plane was late and I refuse to travel in heels and a skirt and insist on wearing cotton and sensible shoes. Yep, I actually do all these things when I fly. Nobody knows it but me, and now you. I suppose I have always thought of how much fun would be made of me if people knew I did this ritual getting on a plane.
The flight attendants, they aren't there to give you coffee or a coke or pretzels, they really aren't. They are there for just this reason, to bark orders at you to do the right thing at the right time so the odds of your survival in an emergency go up. The crew in the cockpit, all those hours of training, all that experience. Sometimes I will laugh to myself when we have a particularly hard or short landing and think "this guy flew for the Navy" and all the while I am grateful for their experience.
Those people all lived. Part of that was luck, but luck IS made and that crew, and particularly that captain, are sheepdogs.
The other thing I thought and Lisa said, was how wonderful it must have been for the first responders to be able to successfully rescue people, scared, cold and grateful people. That had to be good for them.
I'm not afraid of flying, I just like to have all the tools I can at my disposal for "just in case".
random thoughts...
Part of what I was thinking was about how the people of New York City must have felt as they witnessed that sight or heard that sound. The other part was how absolutely, without question, I am not a sheep. I am a sheepdog.
I have traveled a great deal over the course of my career and my life, almost always by plane. There is never a time that I settle in my seat (which I have always chosen to be in the front of the plane or by the wings)without knowing which direction and how many seat backs are between me and the exits, without sizing up where are the children, the elderly, who will need assistance, without having put my little tiny travel purse through the loops of my jeans so that it stays attached to my body and not in my backpack which WILL be left behind. I wear jeans when I fly and I have actually shown up at board meetings in some "other" city, wearing jeans and boots because my plane was late and I refuse to travel in heels and a skirt and insist on wearing cotton and sensible shoes. Yep, I actually do all these things when I fly. Nobody knows it but me, and now you. I suppose I have always thought of how much fun would be made of me if people knew I did this ritual getting on a plane.
The flight attendants, they aren't there to give you coffee or a coke or pretzels, they really aren't. They are there for just this reason, to bark orders at you to do the right thing at the right time so the odds of your survival in an emergency go up. The crew in the cockpit, all those hours of training, all that experience. Sometimes I will laugh to myself when we have a particularly hard or short landing and think "this guy flew for the Navy" and all the while I am grateful for their experience.
Those people all lived. Part of that was luck, but luck IS made and that crew, and particularly that captain, are sheepdogs.
The other thing I thought and Lisa said, was how wonderful it must have been for the first responders to be able to successfully rescue people, scared, cold and grateful people. That had to be good for them.
I'm not afraid of flying, I just like to have all the tools I can at my disposal for "just in case".
random thoughts...
Friday, January 9, 2009
Well I'm grown up, now what do I want to be?
I call it the "financial debacle" really I should call it something else but I can't find words other than things like "sea of dishonest idiots" or "stupid greedy asshats" Yeah, you can tell I'm not impressed. :)
So I'm going back to work and this is going to be a good thing in the long run. It will get me back out into the regular world and maybe I can have a social life and some local friends. The thing is, what am I going to actually DO?
I haven't worked in ten years so there is a LOT in my field that I have no clue about. I have a BA in accounting and economics and an MBA in finance and marketing. I'm really good at being a number cruncher but I don't want to. I never have really wanted to, I just took that path because I wanted to be always able to support Zach. Really I'm a social worker kind of person or an animal/nature kind of person. I've always found ways to work in those environments and now I'm going to do that again. I hope.
I had my own consulting business after failing miserably at being happy in a job as comptroller of a manufacturing company. I sold that business after ten years of working long days and constant travel so that I could be more available for Zach during his high school years. That really meant keep his ass in line and on track and out of trouble during a time I felt was particularly dangerous and not miss every single soccer and lacrosse game because I was in Washington DC or somewhere being pissed off by politicians and trying to change the world. :)
During Zach's high school years I worked at a national wildlife refuge for its non-profit friends group. THAT was my favorite job. I'm hoping to go back to something like that.
I'm blessed to be good at lots of things but that is also a curse. You have to figure out what thing you want to do. If I'm going back to work it needs to be something I actually want to do. Lots of thinking before applying.
It's all scary. I'm working on getting over that and poor you guys, you get to listen to my willy-nilly thoughts...now I'll go back to working on gathering references and re-writing my ancient resume. UGH
So I'm going back to work and this is going to be a good thing in the long run. It will get me back out into the regular world and maybe I can have a social life and some local friends. The thing is, what am I going to actually DO?
I haven't worked in ten years so there is a LOT in my field that I have no clue about. I have a BA in accounting and economics and an MBA in finance and marketing. I'm really good at being a number cruncher but I don't want to. I never have really wanted to, I just took that path because I wanted to be always able to support Zach. Really I'm a social worker kind of person or an animal/nature kind of person. I've always found ways to work in those environments and now I'm going to do that again. I hope.
I had my own consulting business after failing miserably at being happy in a job as comptroller of a manufacturing company. I sold that business after ten years of working long days and constant travel so that I could be more available for Zach during his high school years. That really meant keep his ass in line and on track and out of trouble during a time I felt was particularly dangerous and not miss every single soccer and lacrosse game because I was in Washington DC or somewhere being pissed off by politicians and trying to change the world. :)
During Zach's high school years I worked at a national wildlife refuge for its non-profit friends group. THAT was my favorite job. I'm hoping to go back to something like that.
I'm blessed to be good at lots of things but that is also a curse. You have to figure out what thing you want to do. If I'm going back to work it needs to be something I actually want to do. Lots of thinking before applying.
It's all scary. I'm working on getting over that and poor you guys, you get to listen to my willy-nilly thoughts...now I'll go back to working on gathering references and re-writing my ancient resume. UGH
Wednesday, January 7, 2009
Happy 2009
Maybe we can do better this year? That's a lot of maybe isn't it. One can hope.
I'm such a doofus, on our way to the frozen tundra we flew through Detroit and not Chicago. We got lucky. LT Dan and I sat on the back porch the morning of the day we were supposed to leave and actually tried to figure out ways NOT to go. LOL We really did. It was a gorgeous Sunny Place winter day, 80 and blue skies. We looked at the approaching blizzard and it's ice storm partner and just withered. We went anyway, oh the power of our Mothers, if they only knew.
It's highly annoying, this new thing the airlines are doing. I knew we would pay for checking our bags, what I didn't know was the thing I by-passed while poking buttons on the check in kiosk was my opportunity to PAY for the privilege of actually sitting WITH my husband. WTF. Just put it all in the ticket price and be done with it...good grief! So we did not sit together on the way to Detroit, it could have been worse, at least I was sitting right behind him, both of us in the "coveted middle seat."
I tried to sleep, but there was this little group behind me, very chatty lady with a big voice chatting away non-stop to another lady, while her husband is simultaneously reading her the Bible as though she is actually listening. Very strange. When I finally did fall asleep the lady decided to show her friend something about her camera, so every change she made the camera beeped...alarm clock effect. Never mind sleeping. The flight ended with her reading the Sky Mall catalog complete with opinion of each item, while husband is still reading the Bible. *blink*
We ended up boarding our next flight almost two hours late, we got to sit by each other! Then sat on the runway waiting for deicing for yet another hour. UGH. We arrived in the frozen tundra four hours late and drove to our hotel (35 miles) in an ice/snow storm. LT Dan rocks at driving thank goodness. Two planes that landed after we did slid off the runway...ummm we got lucky.
Our time with my family was wonderful and all I hoped it would be. This was LT Dan's first opportunity to actually spend time with my brothers and sister under normal circumstances, and they him. They met first the day of Zach's funeral. It was unfair to him and to them.
We left my family on Saturday and drove through yet another ice storm to LT Dan's family. LT Dan rocked once again at driving and our decision to head out at 0 dark 100 to beat the majority of the ice storm paid off. We had an hour of crap driving and then it was all clear. LT Dan even had to deal with people spinning out and ending up coming the wrong direction toward us on the interstate. He really does have his awesome moments.
Now I can make a list...
Northwest Airlines needs to stop with the weird ticketing stuff and just put it all up front.
My Mom made us two beautiful pieces of needlework, they are shells and her work is just amazing and perfect and I swear I will never get to her level. I'll post pictures once I get them taken.
Dan got to laugh and joke and see what really good people my brothers and sister are, and how cute his new nieces and nephews are too. An aside- my brothers are Hawkeyes (University of Iowa) graduates and Dan is a Husker (University of Nebraska) graduate...there was much jabbing and stabbing :D
Dan's parents got into wine this year. YAY
I got an awesome big girl corkscrew thingy from Dan's parents and I love it.
We had a family picture taken with Dan's family and individual ones of us and then I helped frame and hang them all in his parents house with my sister in law and I doing the work and Mom supervising. It was FUN. Wine followed our accomplishment!
My sister in law who is the most artistic creative person ever (she's an art teacher) made me silver sea turtle earrings and they are just perfect. I am a sea turtle person. She always makes me the most wonderful things. The Christmas Zach was in Iraq she made me a stained glass blue star flag to hang in my window. I bawled like a baby when I opened that one.
We saw Dan's best friend from college and had a really great night talking and drinking, well, ok, they drank, I just sipped a Kahlua and milk. They asked me if I was punishing myself *eyeroll* no...you silly men are going to hurt in the morning and I'll be FINE. I left them to their own devices at 1am, I think LT Dan fell on the bed and bounced me in the air at around 03:30. LOL They were hurtin units the next morning. Still, it was good to see each other again.
New years day we took our long walk on the beach and this year it was sunny and perfect. We went to the Greek place and stuffed ourselves with giros and then walked a long way on the beach, had coffee and came home. 2009 began right...now lets just carry on with that trend, shall we?
Happy New Year my friends, thank you for your warm welcome back.
I'm such a doofus, on our way to the frozen tundra we flew through Detroit and not Chicago. We got lucky. LT Dan and I sat on the back porch the morning of the day we were supposed to leave and actually tried to figure out ways NOT to go. LOL We really did. It was a gorgeous Sunny Place winter day, 80 and blue skies. We looked at the approaching blizzard and it's ice storm partner and just withered. We went anyway, oh the power of our Mothers, if they only knew.
It's highly annoying, this new thing the airlines are doing. I knew we would pay for checking our bags, what I didn't know was the thing I by-passed while poking buttons on the check in kiosk was my opportunity to PAY for the privilege of actually sitting WITH my husband. WTF. Just put it all in the ticket price and be done with it...good grief! So we did not sit together on the way to Detroit, it could have been worse, at least I was sitting right behind him, both of us in the "coveted middle seat."
I tried to sleep, but there was this little group behind me, very chatty lady with a big voice chatting away non-stop to another lady, while her husband is simultaneously reading her the Bible as though she is actually listening. Very strange. When I finally did fall asleep the lady decided to show her friend something about her camera, so every change she made the camera beeped...alarm clock effect. Never mind sleeping. The flight ended with her reading the Sky Mall catalog complete with opinion of each item, while husband is still reading the Bible. *blink*
We ended up boarding our next flight almost two hours late, we got to sit by each other! Then sat on the runway waiting for deicing for yet another hour. UGH. We arrived in the frozen tundra four hours late and drove to our hotel (35 miles) in an ice/snow storm. LT Dan rocks at driving thank goodness. Two planes that landed after we did slid off the runway...ummm we got lucky.
Our time with my family was wonderful and all I hoped it would be. This was LT Dan's first opportunity to actually spend time with my brothers and sister under normal circumstances, and they him. They met first the day of Zach's funeral. It was unfair to him and to them.
We left my family on Saturday and drove through yet another ice storm to LT Dan's family. LT Dan rocked once again at driving and our decision to head out at 0 dark 100 to beat the majority of the ice storm paid off. We had an hour of crap driving and then it was all clear. LT Dan even had to deal with people spinning out and ending up coming the wrong direction toward us on the interstate. He really does have his awesome moments.
Now I can make a list...
Northwest Airlines needs to stop with the weird ticketing stuff and just put it all up front.
My Mom made us two beautiful pieces of needlework, they are shells and her work is just amazing and perfect and I swear I will never get to her level. I'll post pictures once I get them taken.
Dan got to laugh and joke and see what really good people my brothers and sister are, and how cute his new nieces and nephews are too. An aside- my brothers are Hawkeyes (University of Iowa) graduates and Dan is a Husker (University of Nebraska) graduate...there was much jabbing and stabbing :D
Dan's parents got into wine this year. YAY
I got an awesome big girl corkscrew thingy from Dan's parents and I love it.
We had a family picture taken with Dan's family and individual ones of us and then I helped frame and hang them all in his parents house with my sister in law and I doing the work and Mom supervising. It was FUN. Wine followed our accomplishment!
My sister in law who is the most artistic creative person ever (she's an art teacher) made me silver sea turtle earrings and they are just perfect. I am a sea turtle person. She always makes me the most wonderful things. The Christmas Zach was in Iraq she made me a stained glass blue star flag to hang in my window. I bawled like a baby when I opened that one.
We saw Dan's best friend from college and had a really great night talking and drinking, well, ok, they drank, I just sipped a Kahlua and milk. They asked me if I was punishing myself *eyeroll* no...you silly men are going to hurt in the morning and I'll be FINE. I left them to their own devices at 1am, I think LT Dan fell on the bed and bounced me in the air at around 03:30. LOL They were hurtin units the next morning. Still, it was good to see each other again.
New years day we took our long walk on the beach and this year it was sunny and perfect. We went to the Greek place and stuffed ourselves with giros and then walked a long way on the beach, had coffee and came home. 2009 began right...now lets just carry on with that trend, shall we?
Happy New Year my friends, thank you for your warm welcome back.
Playing catch up
I'll try not to be too long-winded.
LT Dan and I had our first official anniversary, October 1, but for me October 2 was the more important day. That was the day he didn't die from the pulmonary embolism. LT Dan made reservations at a nice restaurant that we had looked at before (this is WAY out of character for him btw) and the Georgia weather was perfect. We ate a great dinner and dessert on the patio and drank mojitos and really had the perfect anniversary celebration.
We also found out the Army really did permanently break LT Dan and began the Medical Board process. I can't say much about that except that it really is the suck. It is so many things...hard to swallow, disappointment, anxiety, uncertainty and lastly LONG. Somewhere along the way I'll post about that at least in a personal way, though I can't really say much about the official part of the process. Say a little prayer for us would you? And please can I stay in what Susan called "the club" because I think without that connection I might really lose my mind.
I'm skipping the election on purpose, though I am glad so many people actually participated.
Thanksgiving was not our normal one, but we had a nice weekend still. I went up to The Cave and got all the yummy wonderful things for dinner, just modified a bit for two people. A turkey breast, sweet potato cassarole (addictive stuff that is), sausage apple stuffing, mashed potatoes and gravy, cranberry stuff, and pumpkin pie. We ate varieties of Thanksgiving the entire four day weekend! It was pleasant and we did nothing much. I like it much better when he comes to The Sunny Place and we have family here.
December the financial debacle came home to roost and I found out my income for 2009 went down the toilet. While I have much to say on that topic, I'll just say that so I don't degenerate into paragraphs of bad words. So now, while I don't know if we are in the Army or out, have health insurance or not, living here or living there...I have to find a job. I haven't really worked in ten years, I have no idea what I'm going to do and I'm not even sure there will be a job for me to GET. This whole idea is wonderful on the one hand and terrifying on the other. You will no doubt be hearing more about this one too because I just know I'm going to need some encouragement along the way.
k that about brings me to another post about December and holidays :) I sorta caught up.
LT Dan and I had our first official anniversary, October 1, but for me October 2 was the more important day. That was the day he didn't die from the pulmonary embolism. LT Dan made reservations at a nice restaurant that we had looked at before (this is WAY out of character for him btw) and the Georgia weather was perfect. We ate a great dinner and dessert on the patio and drank mojitos and really had the perfect anniversary celebration.
We also found out the Army really did permanently break LT Dan and began the Medical Board process. I can't say much about that except that it really is the suck. It is so many things...hard to swallow, disappointment, anxiety, uncertainty and lastly LONG. Somewhere along the way I'll post about that at least in a personal way, though I can't really say much about the official part of the process. Say a little prayer for us would you? And please can I stay in what Susan called "the club" because I think without that connection I might really lose my mind.
I'm skipping the election on purpose, though I am glad so many people actually participated.
Thanksgiving was not our normal one, but we had a nice weekend still. I went up to The Cave and got all the yummy wonderful things for dinner, just modified a bit for two people. A turkey breast, sweet potato cassarole (addictive stuff that is), sausage apple stuffing, mashed potatoes and gravy, cranberry stuff, and pumpkin pie. We ate varieties of Thanksgiving the entire four day weekend! It was pleasant and we did nothing much. I like it much better when he comes to The Sunny Place and we have family here.
December the financial debacle came home to roost and I found out my income for 2009 went down the toilet. While I have much to say on that topic, I'll just say that so I don't degenerate into paragraphs of bad words. So now, while I don't know if we are in the Army or out, have health insurance or not, living here or living there...I have to find a job. I haven't really worked in ten years, I have no idea what I'm going to do and I'm not even sure there will be a job for me to GET. This whole idea is wonderful on the one hand and terrifying on the other. You will no doubt be hearing more about this one too because I just know I'm going to need some encouragement along the way.
k that about brings me to another post about December and holidays :) I sorta caught up.
A long time ago...
I had a birthday. The birthday wasn't so bad, but certainly it was down hill from there. The national financial debacle began, my husband began the medical board process, my Dad forgot who I was. Then suddenly it was Zach's birthday, Thanksgiving and Christmas, and now it's January.
The four months starting in October with Zach's birthday and ending in January with the day he died are the hardest of the year for me. I try really hard to focus on what I have and not what I don't, but it really is difficult. This year it was just overwhelming. I have no idea why, it just was. I sank like a stone. I think it was Lee Anne who once said when things go wrong for her she retreats inside herself and hides. I did that. I wasn't talking here because I could not for the life of me find anything I wanted to say that had even a glimmer of hope in it.
I'm coming out of my little hidey-hole now and will be making random comments on your blog posts that I should have done when I read the post and didn't. I'm sorry for that. I actually was reading, just not being responsive. So here I come and then I'll blab some more in yet another post. I might actually try being true to blogging even, especially if I can take a lesson from Loqi and actually open up and talk about it!
The four months starting in October with Zach's birthday and ending in January with the day he died are the hardest of the year for me. I try really hard to focus on what I have and not what I don't, but it really is difficult. This year it was just overwhelming. I have no idea why, it just was. I sank like a stone. I think it was Lee Anne who once said when things go wrong for her she retreats inside herself and hides. I did that. I wasn't talking here because I could not for the life of me find anything I wanted to say that had even a glimmer of hope in it.
I'm coming out of my little hidey-hole now and will be making random comments on your blog posts that I should have done when I read the post and didn't. I'm sorry for that. I actually was reading, just not being responsive. So here I come and then I'll blab some more in yet another post. I might actually try being true to blogging even, especially if I can take a lesson from Loqi and actually open up and talk about it!
Poop disaster update. poor Widget
I hope it's over now. Widget was sick, it really wasn't her fault we were having a poop disaster. A visit to the vet and a big bill and a big bag of drugs for the dog later...we might be getting better today. She has eye drops, and stuff to add to her food, and antibiotics, and a pill. Weeee fun.
She did sleep through the night and not sneak anywhere to leave poop for me to wake up to--can you hear the angels singing?
She did sleep through the night and not sneak anywhere to leave poop for me to wake up to--can you hear the angels singing?
Tuesday, January 6, 2009
Poop Disaster
Yes. I said it. Poop Disaster. I don't have kids so the universe decided I should have poop from another source. Maybe since The Mrs hasn't told a poop story recently it was my turn. *insert laughter and hugs for the Mrs here* Or something. Widget is pooping. Not a lot, just enough to make me insane. You have to understand, if you have seen the movie Wall-E, I'm Mo. LT Dan and Lisa call me Mo quite a LOT. Poop.on my carpet.makes me crazy.
I've cleaned the carpets, the entire house. I was hoping (no, make that praying) that she was done, but 'lo this morning, more poop in the hall and the guest room. I'm out of stuff to clean up poop with.
Widget will never go to that "bed and breakfast" to stay ever again. Tonight she may find herself sleeping in the kitchen. Enough is enough.
I promise to make the post I was really going to make later today, right now I have to go to the store and get pet stain stuff then see if the baby steam cleaner will fix this. Or maybe I'll have to haul out the big one and clean the guest room and hall yet again.
I've cleaned the carpets, the entire house. I was hoping (no, make that praying) that she was done, but 'lo this morning, more poop in the hall and the guest room. I'm out of stuff to clean up poop with.
Widget will never go to that "bed and breakfast" to stay ever again. Tonight she may find herself sleeping in the kitchen. Enough is enough.
I promise to make the post I was really going to make later today, right now I have to go to the store and get pet stain stuff then see if the baby steam cleaner will fix this. Or maybe I'll have to haul out the big one and clean the guest room and hall yet again.
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