Blogging Again...

For months now I've been telling myself, "Today, I will blog!"  Until today, all those proclamations have been fibs.  It came down to the conclusion that unless I started typing, I was now the author of yet another defunct blog littering the web...so either get to blogging, or hit that delete button.

Unfortunately the topic that got me going again isn't funny, informative, or snarky.

A week ago most of the country had never really heard of Joplin, Missouri...except maybe in the "Route 66" song.  But now the town has catapulted to the forefront of headlines after getting sucker-punched with the now up-graded F-5 tornado.  While this horrendous disaster is worthy of anyone's attention, it's particularly at the forefront of my thoughts because for me, Joplin will always be home turf.

I grew up in a little po-dunk farming community about a 30 minute drive from Joplin. However, Joplin is the hub of the Missouri/Kansas/Oklahoma/Arkansas area dubbed "The Four States."  Since I was small, this is where we went to do a majority of our shopping. Joplin is where I got my braces (that office is now leveled), where in high school I drove with friends to go to the mall and cruise Main Street, where I played softball, attended country music concerts, and even took a few college courses.

For two years as an adult, it's where I lived and worked, and where I still have friends and family.  Needless to say, recent disastrous events have been a real kick in the gut.

Family and friends luckily all weathered the storm with only minor damage, though a few acquaintances weren't that lucky, and lost homes.  And tragically, the number of people who lost their lives is still rising.  We're just now hearing a lot of stories of tragedy, loss, but also true heroism.

Secondary to the horrible loss of life is the loss of property.  I've stared slack-jawed at photographs and videos of the damage, trying to comprehend how places I've shopped hundreds of times could be reduced to splinters and twisted metal, and how such easily-recognized areas can now appear as stark and alien as a different planet.

I've been told it's impossible to comprehend, but here are some before/after photos:

Joplin Devastation - Before and After

Of course, my disbelief from afar is nothing compared to those living through it.  I've had to resist the nearly uncontrollable urge to head north and lend a hand to my fellow Four-Staters.  The attitude of neighbors helping neighbors is still a defining trait of the area. However, family have informed me that things are still too crazy for charging in, and it's best to stay put for the time-being.  They've assured me I'll get my chance to help, as Joplin will be needing help for months.

In the meantime, there are plenty of reputable organizations taking donations.  If anyone has a few extra dollars they'd like to give, this is one community that is going to need it. Especially over the next few weeks and months, when the headlines read something else, and the rest of the country has turned their attention to the latest big thing.

New Garden - Step One

Well, now that I think about it...step one was probably the dirt.

Garden - Next Step.  Maybe that's more accurate.

It's still only February, which is usually my least favorite month.  Still, it's a very important month for garden prep, especially when one is starting a raised-bed garden from scratch.  So here goes...

Last year's gardening was kind of a bust.  Our Epic Move and House Redo and Deployment Preparation sprawled all over spring, summer, and fall, making gardening all but impossible.  As a result, my own heirloom seed collection is pretty pitiful, and I found myself ordering out of the Baker Creek Heirloom Seeds catalog again.  Eventually, though, I hope to have my collection beefed up to the point that in future years I don't have to order seeds, or I can order just for fun to try out some wacky variety.

 




My seeds arrived in less than a week, and I had them out of the mailing envelope in about .05 seconds, then chose a south(ish) facing window, put up a set of plastic shelves, and planted tomatoes, peppers, and eggplant in some Jiffy seed-starting trays.  More purist-minded gardeners may run from these trays, but I find them to be clean and easy to deal with, and you can get them as well as the little peat-pod refill things just about anywhere.

With the seeds started and our recent days taking a surprising turn to short-sleeved warmth, I've been outdoors preparing my garden beds.  During construction of my last raised-bed garden, I built my garden beds with rough-cut cedar boards, which I'd gotten free from a guy in town who no longer wanted them.  Unfortunately, what I saved in actual money, I paid for in labor.  The boards were all different lengths, widths, and thicknesses...sometimes within the same board.  They eventually made very good beds, after a LOT of blood, sweat, and tears.  And bad words.  But hey, they were free.

However, though cedar is "rot resistant", it is not "rot proof." I found that after two garden seasons some of the boards were a little worse for wear and in need of replacement, had the Army seen fit to let us be as planned.

Anyway, now that I've left those beds behind and I'm starting all over, I bit the bullet and bought my boards new.  Now that I'm buying my boards, I'm going for time-saving, practically indestructible pressure-treated boards.

For those with concerns over using pressure-treated lumber for garden beds, I stumbled on a blog that I feel puts the issue to bed:  Using Treated Lumber

It's a little pricey - I'm using three 2x12x8' boards per bed (one of course cut in half for the ends), ending up with what I feel is the optimum 4' x 8' garden bed, all attached with 3" deck screws.  At about $12 bucks a pop for a board, it adds up quick.  The nice thing, though, is that most lumber yards will not only cut the boards you need cut, but load them, too.  Once you get them home, they slap together very quickly.  A person could save a little money by choosing 2x10's or 2x8's, but I wanted the extra height.

This plan is also much cheaper than buying cedar, as well as being much cheaper than replacing rotted boards every year.  I've also tried to spread out the expenses over the winter - I purchased the dirt last month, and at my current rate of buying the boards for one bed per week, it's not such an all-at-once financial shellacking.

My eventual goal is eight beds, but I'll be happy if I get four built this year.  Happier if I get six.

And a side note - it was much faster loading the dirt into the beds with a tractor and front-end loader.  I'm now downgraded to a shovel.  I keep reminding myself that my farming ancestors didn't have tractors, either.

Things to remember when totally building new beds:  1)  Remember to leave enough room to get a lawnmower between beds.  2)  When telling the guy in the dump truck where to dump the dirt, be sure to know EXACTLY where the beds are going to go first.  (I ended up slightly changing my location, and as you can see, the dirt pile is now slightly in the way.)

I try not to think about how many vegetables I could've already bought with the money spent on this new garden, and remind myself that these are expenses I will not be repeating next year.  

Did you hear that, Army?

Cinderella Ate What?

A couple of days ago while while drinking my morning coffee, I was perusing the news channels and this headline caught my eye, "Cinderella Ate My Daughter."  Of course that made me pause. The host was interviewing Peggy Orenstein, the author of the book with that title, which explores the hyper-feminizing of today's daughters.

Holy cow...I can't believe I'm not the only person to have this thought.  I don't have any kids, so maybe I'm not totally qualified to weigh in on this issue...which the woman on the other end of the debate called a "non-issue."  But it has seemed to me in recent years that little girls are being pinked, sparkled, and princessed to death.  Upon the Christmas Season arrival of our kid's bikes at the bike shop, I remarked to one of my co-workers about my belief in the "overgenderification" of our kids.  This after I'd assembled a little girl's shimmery pink bike with purple accents, glitter, flowers, a basket with a plastic flower on the front, and pink tassels.

I have these same thoughts when I see glittered baby-doll t-shirts with such slogans as "Princess" and "Spoiled."  While I don't usually ride in the front seat the feminist bandwagon, I am pretty sensitive when it comes to female equality.  I simply can't see how a young woman can learn to have confidence in her own talents and abilities while wearing tight sweatpants with "Daddy's Best Asset" splashed across her behind.  (I'm NOT making that up).  It seems the clothes and toys shoved at girls today send more of a message of "weaker sex entitlement" and "this is what boys like", than of being strong and self-reliant.

Last summer the hubby and I stayed with a divorced friend of his, who's tween daughter's room also doubled as the guest room.  Upon entry, guests are assaulted with pink walls, a pink comforter, pink fuzzy pillows, a white dresser with flowers, and a large sparkly wall-hanging proclaiming "PRINCESS."

I don't remember my childhood toys being so overly gender-oritented.  Granted, I've never been accused of being overly girly.  As a young girl I constantly frustrated my mother with my tomboy tendencies.  I liked to fish and play in the dirt.  Heck, as an adult I like to fish and play in the dirt - some things don't change.

I have nothing against girly girls who want the pink room.  I just wonder how many girls actually want the pink over-feminized room, and how many think that's what they're supposed to choose. Or, how many parents choose it for them, whether they're trying to ensure their daughter's femininity, or they just think it's cute.  Again, as a non-parent, I can't say.

But regardless, I have a nagging feeling that even here, more than a decade into the 21st century, that women's equality and societal image is actually going backward.

I think, even though I don't have a daughter (I don't think two female dogs count), that I'll check this book out and see what Ms. Orenstein has to say.  I think it'll be interesting.

Hmm...

I probably won't be moving my pile of garden dirt tomorrow.

Garden 2011

May I present...*drumroll*...my NEW garden.

Ok, it's not so impressive right now.  Obviously I have a mountain of work to do, building beds and getting the dirt actually into them, as well as all the other tasks that come with having a garden - planting, mulching, weeding, canning...  But it's a start.

I have to say there are some days when motivation comes and goes.  Just like last year when I was asking myself, "Didn't I just do this?" when it came to packing, driving a truck and trailer loaded with our stuff, painting walls and unpacking boxes.  I'm now asking myself the same question, remembering the hours spent building beds and hauling dirt just a couple of years ago at our new "permanent" home.  But, it's the memory of the satisfaction I felt when I had a garden to be proud of that keeps me going. Perhaps this year I won't go quite as all-out all at one time, and will start with just a few beds, with room to expand.

Life would likely be much easier if I didn't have a garden.  Most people seem to think I'm a little nuts, manufacturing more work when I already have plenty to keep me busy.  It's even been suggested to "wait 'til your husband gets home."  (Obviously that person doesn't know me very well).  However, I seem to be afflicted with some kind of instinctive and irresistible urge to plant and grow things.

And if you think that's bad, it gets worse - I'm working on plans for my new chicken coop.

Oh yes, there will be chickens. 

(In case you're wondering, the bees went to live at my in-laws).

Deployment Bubbles

My apologies for having fallen off the blogging wagon, but the good news is that I'm climbing back on.

I'm now well into The Deployment, and still trying to figure out my routine.  I've discovered that having your spouse deployed is kind of like living in a bubble - life goes on as normal outside the bubble, but in your own personal deployment bubble, time seems to move slower.  I'm still functioning just fine, keeping busy and living life, yet time in the bubble seems to drag, as I wait for my life to resume it's normal pace when said spouse returns.  It's a strange sensation.

Adventures in E-Reading

Christmas is now well behind us, but I'm still very excited about one of my gifts.  Like seemingly bazillions of other avid readers, I was ecstatic to see that Santa brought me an Amazon Kindle.

While it took a while to warm up to the idea of doing the bulk of my reading on this wonder of technology, I have since been happily gulping down books left and right.  But, just recently, I heard someone mention the ability to "check out" books from the library with an e-reader, which got my attention in a hurry.  I very excitedly hopped on the internet and went straight to our library's website, ready to start downloading.

However, my hopes were cruelly dashed when I read the disclaimer, "Our ebooks are not compatible with the Amazon Kindle."  This prompted an internet search, where I discovered this atrocity wasn't just a fluke of my library, but all library ebooks.  I nearly sobbed with the unfairness of it all.

Who would've thought that the most popular e-reader wouldn't be compatible with digital library books?  I probably should've done better research.

At first I was hit with the sense that Amazon is taking the Apple road - "nanny nanny boo boo...we make a good product but you can only use our stuff!"  (As I sit here typing on my much-loved Mac).  I'm guessing that if Amazon hasn't already started work on this issue, they soon will.  If they don't, the Kindle will likely fall off it's Most Popular pedestal, with readers enjoying free library books on their Sony E-Readers and B&N Nooks.

In the meantime, while I wait for a solution, I'm sill enjoying the books I've purchased on my Kindle.  I guess I'll have to be content with checking out library books the old-fashioned way.  I'd be most interested to see what other Kindle owners have to say about this issue.

True Grittier

It's time once again for my totally unqualified, totally random movie review.

This past Christmas weekend the husband and I had one last opportunity for a date night before his boarding a plane for places less American, so we decided on the classic dinner-and-a-movie combo.  I, being the completely off-the-charts awesome wife that I am, let him choose the movie.  Mostly because I knew he was going to choose the new "True Grit", and I wanted to see it, too.  I was a fan of the John Wayne version as a kid, as well as the follow up, "Rooster Cogburn", and I'd heard surprisingly good things about the remake.

In a nutshell, it was a VERY good flick.  The casting was superb.  The dialog witty.  The filming gritty and at the same time artful.  And, perhaps the best gauge for rating a movie - I'd like to see it again.  It's got to be downright difficult to take an already good movie and redo it, keep the story the same, yet improve it enough to reach the status of being an excellent stand-alone film.

Of course, upon my discussion of the film with hubby, I had to voice a few complaints.

#1) This first complaint has nothing to do with the actual movie, it just deserves a rant.  Either more idiots are attending the movies, or we have insanely poor seating choice.  The last three movies we've attended we've sat in close vicinity to Professional Talkers, who insist on practicing their craft throughout the movie.  True Grit was no exception, as the folks behind us not only insisted on talking, but narrating.  In addition, one lady found it necessary to repeat every funny piece of dialog throughout her narration.

#2)  I had to wonder if it really is possible to cut all of a person's fingers off with a knife in one big chop.  Hubby voted yes, on the condition that the knife was sharp enough and had enough mass. I still vote no.  Maybe one finger and deep deep deep cuts to the rest.  Maybe all fingers with a hatchet.  And, maybe if the knife is brandished point down in a more powerful grip.  But I am dubious this feat can actually be achieved with a large knife wielded in the position one would assume if they were cutting bread.

Mythbusters may prove me wrong on this point, but I remain a Doubting Thomas.

#3)  I was hoping this remake would somehow replace the big snake-bite scene with something better.  I'm partial to snakes, and it hurts my heart when movies take an irrational fear - such as the one most people have of snakes - and use it as a story prop.  By taking this avenue, numerous snake myths are prolonged and accepted as universal truths:

Snakes Are Scary And We Should Shoot Them All.


Of Course Snakes Like To Hide In Dead Bodies.  Because They're Evil.


You Should ALWAYS Cut On The Bite And Suck The Poison.  Everyone Knows That.


Once You Disturb A Snake Out Of A Hibernation-Induced Stupor, They Are Never Sluggish And Don't Want To Hide Or Avoid Conflict - They Will Instead Move With Lightening Speed And Will Stop At Nothing To Bite You Viciously And For No Good Reason.  Because They're Evil.

It's safe to say I could've done without that scene.  Regardless, I'll probably buy it, and It'll become a favorite in our collection.

Digital Christmas

My Personal Battle with Spandaphobia

I posted a few months back about my incessant drooling over purchasing a new mountain bike in order to replace my old clunker, and to take advantage of the awesomeness that is the local biking trails. I must say, I'm not a huge fan of Little Rock so far, but the excellent biking opportunities are really softening my harsh attitude toward the area.

Recently, I finally procured my new mountain bike.  Turns out my new job at the bike shop, which comes with some pretty perky perks, enables me to do a one-time-a-year employee purchase directly from the factory.  I'm guessing the Big Bike Guys figure that if we salespersons are going to plug their bikes, it's better that we experience them first-hand.  I couldn't agree more.  It also meant that a MUCH better bike now fit into my self-imposed new mountain bike allowance, and I spent several weeks giddily trying to make a choice (which nearly drove the hubby bonkers).

In the end, after much agonizing deliberation, I ended up with the carbon-frame, full-suspension, 29" wheel (as opposed to the 26" wheels mountain bikes used to have), Specialized "Epic" Comp.

I must say, the name "Epic" is a truly perfect name for this bike.  It's...well...EPIC.  I've been out on the trails a few times now, and love the bike more every time I ride it.  I'm also kicking myself for letting life get in the way and missing out on years enjoying this sport.

However, there is one thing I'm not loving so much - biking attire.  Back in the day when I dabbled in trail riding, out of a desire for modesty, I wore padded riding spandex shorts with baggy gym shorts over the top. But now, it seems, most bikers just wear the spandex shorts, or in cold weather, long tights. I've gotten used to people coming into the shop wearing their riding gear, or as one old guy termed them, "Ridin' britches."

At first I was resistant to wearing spandex, at least without something over the top.  "So my butt and thighs are just going to be hanging out there?"

"Oh come on...don't be a Spandaphobe.  Nobody wears pants - dress for the sport!", I was told with eye rolls and contempt.

And it's true...in the biking magazines, as well as in snapshots displayed around the shop, all the photos of riders and racers show them wearing only spandex, and looking pretty cool.  But coolness isn't the only reason - wearing baggy shorts can be a liability, getting caught on various bike parts or trail obstructions.  Lastly, there is also comfort in numbers - if you're around others in nothing but their ridin' britches, you tend to feel less conspicuous.  You are now a part of a herd. 

And so, crumbling under the peer pressure, I've now entered the realm of people who wear spandex in public.  Swimmers.  Ballerinas.  The actors in the new Tron movie.  Extremely obese women driving those little carts through Wal-Mart.  But lately I suffered a blow to my growing spandex confidence, when I took a ride in Burns Park located just outside of post, and realized once I got close to the post gate that I'd forgotten my military I.D....which meant I had to leave the comfort of the car and walk into the visitor center, in my riding tights, with no extra duds to throw over the top, and nobody with me to offer strength in numbers.

I attempted to be nonchalant, but my conversation with the base cop who was waiting to hear the reason I was standing there, sheepish and uncomfortable, at the (very low) desk went something like this:

"Um...we live here, but I forgot my I.D...Um...I was out riding...riding my bike...which is why I'm dressed like this.  Really."

"Is that warm enough?"

"Oh yeah.  But I should probably throw some pants in the car.  Or not forget my I.D."

"Probably."


In any case, I'm probably just going to have to get over my Spandaphobia.  My brother suggested the possible addition of a cape to go with the tights - just to give people something else to focus on, and to look that much cooler. Might not be a bad idea.

"Then it’s hi! hi! hey! The Army’s on its way!"

I know, I know....I'm a bad bad blogger.  I consider myself properly chastised by impatient readers. My excuse is that the past few months have been beyond hectic, with last-ditch attempts to get our house somewhat under control, and trying to prepare for my husband's deployment - the first deployment during our marriage.  I'm afraid blogging fell by the wayside for a while.

Now, however, the good Major is on his last leg of training before heading east....extremely east. When the average "civilian" thinks of a soldier's deployment, what most commonly comes to mind is the image of the brave soldier stepping on the bus, waving goodbye to loved ones before heading off into the sunset.  In actuality, a deployment starts waaaaaay before the troops actually board the bus or plane, with months and months of prep, training, work, and worry - especially when said husband is the Operations Officer, which I've discovered the hard way is the most labor-intensive duty in the whole deployment she-bang.

While outwardly brushing off those offers of sincerest wife-of-a-husband-deployed sympathies, I've found myself popping awake in the wee hours of the morning playing the "what if" game, ranging from the probable to the absolutely ridiculous, trying to run through every possible scenario I may have to handle.

 "What if a pipe bursts?"


"What if the fridge breaks?"


"What if the roof falls in?"


"What if I suddenly develop unexplained and total amnesia?"


"What if I'm attacked by rabid garden gnomes?"

I'm a little surprised at myself, having been a capable, independent, single woman for so long before getting hitched. Having been married for a few years, while I still think of myself as independent, I'm surprised to see how much couples come to rely on each other, and that you really do become a true team.  Now my teammate has been called up to the majors for a while, and I'm finding my way back to self-reliance.  It's kind of weird and a little disorienting.

It really makes me appreciate the sacrifices made by soldiers and their families in our country's past. Nowadays we have the benefits of email, world-capable cell phones, and video chat, which will allow us to communicate often and in real-time from half a world away. This of course takes the absence of a loved-one from extreme hardship to temporary and bearable.

In any case, I know that during this deployment, even if the gnomes do attack, the sun will still rise and set, and the world will still turn.  I have loads of projects to keep me busy aside from work, and I plan on tanking up on books and movies.  Once I start having in-depth conversations with the pets, some of you may expect a phone call.

Goodbye Cruel World...

...Hello favorite fishing hole!

Forgive my recent unbloggyness, which has plagued me heavily lately, but this time I have a good excuse.  Last week Marden and I traded in Little Rock for a few days in the woods at our favorite fishing spot.  While many of Marden's fellow soldiers are hitting the tropics with their significant others for their big pre-deployment vacation, we instead stayed semi-local and low key, heading to Montauk State Park in Missouri - the headwaters of the Current River.  A cold, clear stream, beautiful fall weather, copious amounts of trout fishing, relaxing, campfires, and eating grilled fresh-caught fish and junk food with the hubby were the essential ingredients for beating those old living-in-the-city-house-isn't-finished-don't-know-anyone-pre-deployment blues.

Montauk isn't the fanciest place, nor is it the absolute best or nearest place for trout fishing.  Arkansas has some darn fine trout fishing spots, but unfortunately they're almost all tailwater rivers below hydroelectric dams - which means a fisherman (or woman) is constantly battling fluctuating and unpredictable water flow.  When the generators are running, fishing is impossible for wade-fishermen like us.  Many times I've spent half an hour getting geared up, stepped into the river, only to have the horn blow signaling a rapid water rise.  When you're planning a fishing vacation, the last place you want to find yourself is sitting morosely on the bank, watching high water.

However, Missouri is blessed with many natural cold-water springs, four of which have been developed into state parks with hatcheries that raise and stock trout.  While the result isn't quite up to the wild-trout stream standards of some other semi-local waters, and certainly not anything like the famous streams out west, it's still a guaranteed good time for scenery, nostalgia, and fishing.  All without that maddening drive across Kansas.

Without going on and on like I'm channeling Thoreau, I'll just say it was a week made to order, with perfect weather and fall colors so vibrant they took your breath away and you feel like bursting from beauty overload.  There were times I just quit fishing in order to sit on the bank and take it all in - not just the colors, but the sound of the crystal-clear water, the flash of a trout sucking a bug off the water, wood ducks gliding along the bank, minnows scooting between moss-covered rocks - absorbing it all to remember during the cold and drab winter that's just around the corner. 

Here's a video of one of the many springs at Montauk.  It's not the main spring, which is much bigger, but these little bubbling ones are pretty cool:

Best Reality Show Ever

I like to keep a "Best Things Ever" list, and recently I've found a TV show that makes the cut.  If you find yourself with nothing to do at 9:00 (Central) on a Sunday night, turn over to the History Channel and watch Swamp People, which showcases some backwater characters of the Louisiana bayous and swamps as they hunt alligators during the month-long season.  We're addicted.  Perhaps it's our recent migration from country to city that's got us needing a good dose of Ultimate Redneckness, but we're hooked.  Any show that before the opening gives a disclaimer about some images being disturbing really gets my attention.

I'm sure this show offends some sensibilities, offends some anti-hunters, offends those life-long city dwellers who don't realize not everyone lives in an apartment or suburbia, and offends those living in that fantasy world where meat comes from supermarkets and leather comes from a factory.  As for me, it's a very interesting look into the lives of people living on what could be considered the "fringes" of society, who still rely mostly on the land for their livlihoods, and family for their happiness.

In any case, I think it's a good way to pass an hour.

Ho Hum

Yes, I'm still here.  Every other day or so I come look at my blog, try to think of something to write, and end up mumbling "Meh..." to myself and go on to something else.  To say I've hit a blogging dry spell would be a pretty massive understatement.

I'm not sure what has brought on the ho-hum attitude.  We're still settling into our new house, and I'm settling into my new job, and into city life.  City life is just that - city life.  I still feel about as comfortable as a bowl-raised goldfish thrown in the ocean.  While the city has a lot to offer as far as good restaurants and improved shopping, I still really miss living in the country and the comfort of a small town.  I'm sure time will improve my feelings toward living in the city, but I don't think I'll ever be feeling the warm-fuzzies for congested traffic and poor manners I often encounter.  So far, it's like swimming alone in a sea of uncaring strangers.  Time will likely fix that, too.

I've also been bummed by the weather.  When viewing a weather map, my eyes instinctively go to where we used to live, and I see the area enjoying rain and cooler temperatures, while Little Rock remains dry, dusty, and hot, hot, hot.

As far as home improvement goes, things have been slow but steady.  Aside from flooring, we haven't done anything major - just a lot of the small, sometimes tedious things that are slow to come together.  Paint touch-ups, new electrical outlet covers, trim, and organization issues have been the main thrust as of late.  And with hubby's busy schedule, including a pre-deployment two-week trip to the mid-east (which reminded me how much next year is going to suck rotten eggs), these home improvements have fallen mostly on my plate.  During his absence, I addressed a major headache in my life - the dreaded pantry.

Like Mom, I like to keep a well-stocked pantry, but the folks who lived here before weren't so concerned about neat, tidy, easy-to-access kitchen items.  They were fans of one of my arch nemeses - wire shelving (bleh!).  Wire shelving which encourages cans to fall over, small items to fall through, and filth to gather in nooks and crannies.  I couldn't walk by the pantry without averting my eyes and suppressing a dramatic shudder.  After researching some shelving options, I instead bought a drill press, some 1x12 boards, white paint, and went to work building fully adjustable shelves.  I'm pretty satisfied with the results, if I do say so myself.

Here is the pantry before:

Here is the pantry after:

Hey, I can brag a little, right? 

Get a Job!

For the past few years, I've been basically unemployed.  This phenomenon has been partly by choice, partly by circumstance.  Once the husband and I got hitched, moved, and I quit State Park rangering, I'd planned on taking a couple months break from the workforce while we redid our house in Mountain Home.  Those two months turned into two years of unemployment, with a few sporadic stints as a substitute teacher and some freelance arty things.

Recently, now that we're starting to get settled in Little Rock, I've been thinking that it's time to get back at it.  The title of Army-Wife-Who-Does-Home-Improvement is getting old, and I planned on looking for at least a part-time job in earnest.

Turns out I didn't have time to look - one fell straight from the sky into my lap.

The other day I stopped into Arkansas Cycling and Fitness to continue my incessant drooling over mountain bikes, and walked out with a resume request, which quickly turned to an offer for a part-time job.  I'd been trying to decide where to look for a job that I'd enjoy.  It was a no-brainer that I don't belong in an office environment...I'm definitely happy getting my hands dirty and doing stuff.

So far I've been on the job three days, and I LOVE it.  "Bicycle Shop Salesman" never entered my mind previously as a career choice, but I think I was born to work in a bike shop.  The employee discount isn't too shabby, either.  I'm sure it'll eventually get old, but it's such a busy store I don't think it'll ever be mundane.  Yesterday I officially made my first sale.  We don't work on commission, but I helped a lady for two hours find her perfect bike and fit it to her so she could ride the river trail with her husband.  She'd never had a good, properly fitting bike before, and had never had anyone take the time to thoroughly answer all her questions.  In an age of ginormous discount stores, it's refreshing to work in a place where true customer service on quality products is placed above all else. 

See?  I already sound like a salesman. 

Back from an Adventure

I'm back from another blogging break, this time due to the crapping out of my computer.  It's been ailing for a while, and finally gave up the ghost.  I'm now on a borrowed computer for a borrowed amount of time until I decide on a new one for purchase.

I'm also back from a small adventure.  I took a few days to attend the Restoring Honor rally put on by Glenn Beck in Washington D.C.  Depending on what news organization you choose to watch, no doubt reports about the event have varied wildly.  I've already seen a few of them - part of me can't believe the inaccuracies that have been reported, and another much more cynical part of me isn't the least bit surprised.  All I can accurately report is what I saw and heard.

Like many Americans, I've been bothered by politics the last few years.  Things just seem to get worse - from the corruption, the ever-widening gulf between Democrats and Republicans, the fact that most politicians see no need to listen to their constituents, and most especially the increasing venom and hate being hurled around with wild abandon.  Personally, I don't like being called a hate-monger or a racist or downright stupid simply because I don't want to be a backdoor Socialist, I don't believe in the principles of Marxism, and I do strongly believe that the ideas and principles that our founding fathers put forth are still valid and applicable today.  So, instead of sitting on my duff and continuing to complain about the state of things, I heeded Beck's call to rally.  I needed a positive experience, and like a great many people, I was tired of feeling helpless.  I wanted to DO something.

So, I went to D.C. for several days with my mother and aunt.  It was surreal - walking in the shadows of iconic buildings and monuments, seeing the wonders of the Smithsonian, and meeting countless crowds of people excited about attending the rally.  We encountered so many people that we started to worry about getting a decent spot on Saturday.  Since we depended on the Metro Rail for transportation, and were staying way too far from downtown to consider walking, we were extra worried since the Saturday Metro didn't run until 7:00 a.m.  Even though the rally didn't start until 10:00, we got a little antsy...antsy enough to get out of bed at 11:30 p.m., get dressed, and catch a Metro to the Lincoln Memorial in the middle of the night, armed only with a blanket and backpacks full of water and snacks. 

We found several thousand others had the same idea, and we joined in and staked out an area to wait out the night.  (Actual camping on the mall is not allowed, but park rangers allowed "waiting.")  Talk about surreal - I can honestly say I never thought I'd spend a night under the stars, under the iconic cherry trees, beside the reflecting pool, moonlight the only thing illuminating the Lincoln Memorial and Washington Monument - but strong convictions will make you do some strange things.  We chatted the night away with people around us who were from all over - Ohio, Pennsylvania, Montana, South Carolina, Florida, Minnesota, even California.  About 5:00 a.m. I got restless and took a walk, and ended up sitting for more than an hour on the top step of the Lincoln Memorial, listening to the gentle but growing murmur of more and more people joining me on the steps and the mall quickly filling up as the crowds streamed in.  Once I watched the sun come up, I made my way back to our "camp" to eagerly await the start of the rally.

Our campout turned out to be a good thing - we heard reports of Metro lines the length of football fields, and people waiting hours just to board, not to mention gridlocked traffic even keeping taxis from getting in.  We also had a fairly good view thanks to our long night's wait, though the folks with the REALLY good views had been there since Wednesday.  Rally-goers were a pretty diverse group, despite what any press may report.  I saw young along with old, and all ages in between.  Black as well as white, Hispanic, and Asians.  Speakers were all colors and backgrounds, starting with a prayer given by a Native American.  And, I'm not sure, but I think I was sitting next to two gay guys. :)

I won't give minuscule details of the whole rally, but it was honestly the most amazing event I've ever attended in my entire life.  The speakers were wonderful, including Sarah Palin, who spoke only as a military mom, not as a politician.  Alveda King was simply unbelievable - it's astounding she's currently enduring death threats for the message of peace and unity she gave.  And those were just a couple.  Other speakers such as Marcus Luttrell (the "Lone Survivor") and ballplayer Albert Pujols also blew us away.  There were many other speakers, singers, and performers equally as inspiring.

Beck ended the rally, which was an overall homage to the military and an distinct call to peace, unity, charity, honor, and honesty, with his presentation of the new Black Robe Regiment - a group of clergy from multiple faiths who have pledged to preach about individual God-given (not government-given) rights and personal/individual responsibility.  Christian preachers linked arms with Muslim Imams, linked with Jewish Rabbis...and on and on - 240 representing his thousands of church clergy, male and female, who have made the same promise.

In the very end we were treated with special patriotic singing from Jodee Messina and a couple other Nashville stars.

On our very slow way out with the masses, I couldn't help but notice how clean everyone was leaving the grounds.  All trash was picked up and put in bags next to trash cans - everyone stayed afterward to clean up after themselves.  Crossing the mall we encountered the first rally protesters - a guy and girl with a megaphone, yelling pretty hateful things.  I won't repeat any of it, but all the rally-attendees simply ignored or smiled at them.  Apparently they didn't listen to the rally.

I know not everyone agrees with the rally, or is receptive to the message.  You may be smirking your way through this whole post, having decided that I'm just another Conservative cheeseball.  Just the fact that it was put on by Glenn Beck is enough for some people, despite the positive message of peace and unity, and the fact that $5.5 million dollars were raised for the Special Operations Warrior Foundation, which provides college educations for fallen special ops soldiers.  But, for me it was a wonderful, life-changing experience, and that fills me with hope.

Running Update

It's been a few weeks now since I posted about my newest quest to get in shape through barefoot running.  I'm very proud to say, despite the broiling temperatures, I've actually managed to stick with it.  Running with the Vibram FiveFingers has been hard to get used to, but lots of stretching and a little patience is the key.  I'm now up to a strong two miles, even able to sprint the last tenth.

Best of all - no shin splints!  For me, this is a small miracle.  In addition to no shin splints - no achy knees, and no painful hips.  I've been studying a bit about proper running form, and of course - in years past I've been doing it all wrong.  Running without shoes has made switching to a more "proper" gait easy and natural.

If you visit running forums, you'll see not everyone agrees that barefoot running is all that great.  I agree, it's probably not the answer for everyone, and if you're a habitual shoe-runner already, it's going to be hard to make the switch.  In fact, if you're running successfully in shoes with no issues, there might not be a reason to fix what isn't broken.  I'm just judging from my own success, and for me, I'm not going back to shoes.

My next step - to get off the track and on the trail.  The track is getting boring.

Moving is Hard

I've been resisting the urge lately to whine in my posts, but I think today the whine is going to win out.  I may just have to get some cheese to go with it. 

Moving is hard, in a seemingly infinite variance of ways.  Large home improvement jobs, such as painting, laying floor, and making repairs eventually give way to smaller repairs, unpacking boxes, and trying not to get stressed and overwhelmed by the fact that we have WAY too much stuff, and where is it all going to go?  Now we're getting down to the parts I really find annoying - replacing switch covers, installing trim, and trying to keep up with housework and laundry while cleaning up construction mess and unpacking boxes of things I don't really need.

And, while the inside of our house is coming together slowly, the outside living areas are still a major disaster.  The decks are in bad need of a powerwashing and coat of stain.  The two storage buildings are a wreck.  The back yard is mostly dirt peppered with some sickly Bermuda.  The walkway from the back porch to the back gate where we park is an obstacle course, since someone in the recent past decided to make the walkway out of those ugly concrete paving stones, held in place by ugly white landscape rock, which have since washed out all over the yard, leaving the paving stones sticking up ready to catch a toe.  After the major work of redoing this house nearly single-handedly (husband has helped where he could, but has recently been greatly preoccupied with pre-deployment training and working insane hours), I'm worn to a frazzle, and I can't quite stomach the thought of tackling the major work of making the outdoors presentable.

My goal of a nice garden with a few chickens is getting farther and farther away, and it's hard not to feel a bit down-and-out.  Being stuck in the bubble of Camp Robinson doesn't help, seemingly forgotten by some busy friends I could really have used over the past few months, if for nothing but moral support.  I'm starting to agree with the notion that Facebook has ruined the idea of real friendship.

So, just bear with me - I'm just in a funk.  I'll keep plugging along.  Maybe I just need copious amounts of chocolate.

Who Needs a Spa?

I stole this video from Stephanie's Pointed Meanderings blog (Stephanie I hope you don't mind!).  I'm not usually a blog thief, but this video was too awesomely sexist to pass up.  Finally, someone has found the key to relaxation...making your husband the perfect cup of coffee.  Here I have been stressed over getting our house in order, finding a job, living in the city, anxiety about being able to make new friends, and most of all - hubby's impending year-long deployment - when all I really need is instant Folgers.

(By the way, instant Folgers tastes like feet.)

Too Hot to Blog

I know that's not a good excuse, but holy cow.  This summer is sucking my motivation faster than an egg can fry on the hood of my car.  I really hate being one of those people complaining about the weather, but I'd hoped against hope that our past weekend's slight reprieve from three-digit temps would be an indication that the heat and humidity was subsiding.  But the bright side - it is August, and the Bass Pro and Cabelas hunting catalogs in our mailbox remind me that cooler weather is that much closer. 

Instead of incessant griping, I'm posting this video of a dog who has the right idea.