May
11
2010
Or why you should never blog on little to no sleep

[fruit tree fields on the way to Osan]

This past Friday was Military Spouse Appreciation Day.

And it came & went completely unnoticed by the Army, by the base & even by Eric’s unit.

Although I shouldn’t really complain…after all, we go unnoticed all the time.

But after a fairly rough year of sacrificing for the military, I must say I was disappointed.

Ok, bitterly disappointed.

I was going to let it go…just as every other military spouse did…until this morning.

This morning, the culmination of all that pent up frustration & bitter ire came to a head at 0440 (that’s 4:40am for you civies) by way of a phone call.

It was the First Sergeant – informing Eric of an Alert Drill.

Alert Drill: Just as firemen practice putting out fires, policemen practice taking down criminals, soldiers practice grabbing their gear & heading out the door at a moment’s notice…ready to “fight tonight”.

And as I was helping Eric gather up his gear & go, a dawning realization hit me.

“As an Army wife I have…”

And in my head came a flood of odd, random & downright painful things I’ve done.

So if you’ll indulge me, I’d like to take this time to recap it here – sort of a personal call to arms of the military spouse.

[ahem]

As an Army wife I have…

  • Been insulted.
  • Been praised.
  • Been misunderstood when I start talking in “Army Speak”.
  • Received thanks to pass along to my husband for his sacrifice.
  • Hauled 150 lbs of ruck sacks & duffle bags to the car at 0445 while my husband scrambled to get dressed.
  • Modeled 50 lbs of Kevlar so that my husband could correctly position ammo pouches & side armour plating.
  • Been a combatives test dummy for my husband to practice his Army hand-to-hand combat skills.
  • Been awakened numerous times by a phone calls at 0200 usually because some young soldier decided to get drunk & hit somebody.
  • Packed a 3 bedroom house BY MYSELF, loaded it (furniture & all) into a U-Haul trailer & single-handedly unloaded it all again into a storage unit within the span of 18 hours.
  • Unpacked that same 3 bedroom house & put everything back the way it was into the very SAME HOUSE the following weekend.
  • Missed birthdays, Thanksgivings & Christmases with friends & family at home.
  • Come to understand the inner workings of the Apache Longbow AH-D Attack Helicopter.
  • Washed countless loads of sweaty BDUs, DCUs, ACUs…and soon MPUs.
  • Stood at the airport gate & waved goodbye to my husband twice.
  • Been serenaded by a WWII vet in WalMart to the song ‘Soldier Boy’.
  • Helped my husband battle PTSD.
  • Listed & sold our first home by myself.
  • Driven across country 4 times.
  • Learned how to efficiently pack a 2003 Chrysler PT Cruiser to the gills.
  • Completely restocked my kitchen 3 times.
  • Moved 3 times in the span of two years.
  • Hoped a flight to Korea with a dog, a cat & two suitcases to my name.
  • …and contracted some obscure Southeast Asian disease while overseas.

While it’s not a complete list, it’s enough.

That’s enough, right?…Isn’t that enough to get some sort of nod by the folks who profess to be “Family Strong”?

And that’s only the list of a wife who’s been in 5 years now – a wife with no children to explain why Daddy isn’t home.

Don’t get me wrong – I love my husband & would do all that & more again…ahh, scratch that…will do that again (seeing as how we’ve got another 6 years in minimum).

I knowingly chose Army life – eyes wide open & with the understanding it would be a long haul for little respect, little pay & little time to be settled in any one place.

I married for love & took the trials of military life that would come with it.

I married a man who to this day opens my doors, pulls out my chairs & holds my hand.

But Eric got out the door with all his 150 lbs of gear & on time. The dogs finally settled back down & I crashed on the couch hoping to make up for lost sleep.

And as I slowly drifted away…I heard the door open.

It was Eric.

Home again.

No one had remembered to call him (since he is working the swing shift this week) to let him know that the Commander had changed his mind – only the guys on days needed to come in for the Alert.

So what odd, random or painful things have you had to do?

Doesn’t matter if you’re military or not…every wife has her own list.

May
10
2010
And probably the coolest thing to happen to me so far

Last Monday as I was walking Moo back home, past the Lumber Barons, Mrs. Lumber Baron motioned me over.

For those just tuning in, the Lumber Barons is the name I have affectionately given a local Korean couple. And while they are farmers in real life, in their backyard is the biggest pile of scrap lumber you’ve ever seen.

She invited me to sit, try some homemade Kimbob (Korean sushi), poured me a glass of peach juice & we sat there.

It was a first in our year-long exchange of bows & smiles every time I pass by.

But I don’t speak Hangul and she doesn’t speak English.

So there was lots of smiling, nodding & hand gestures.

And wouldn’t you know it…I didn’t have my camera on me.

The one time I could’ve got a great close up of her & no camera.

As for the Kimbob…I’m afraid it’s not really my thing. I nibbled here & there and tried to assure her that I was very grateful, that it was very good. And brought one home for Eric – he loves the stuff.

But the peach juice was incredible – straight out of the carton just like Orange juice.

May
08
2010
And so begins rice season

These shots are all of the massive fields of rice patties that span the stretch between Humphreys & Osan.

I still don’t know if one mega-company owns all of it, or if it’s a patchwork of individual farmers’ lands.

But they’re starting up again.

The fields were burned, then tilled & then flooded.

And now it’s time to plant.

The mud is so thick & deep I always wonder how the heavy equipment doesn’t just get stuck in it.

But this is the shot I wanted to show you.

Last year I missed this part. I came in just a week or two later.

It’s a rice planter.

Look at the shelves on either side of the driver.

They hold trays & trays of germinated rice.

The trays are then slid into holding grooves while slowly - one by one – each individual rice plant is poked into the mud.

Ta-dah!

But I think our neighborhood farmers plant them all by hand.