"Warning: could not send message for the last 24 hours"

I hate it when e-mail goes down on the ship. Really.

It is the only way I have of communicating with the love of my life and they have taken it away.

Not that I put any big important news in it. Not that there is any urgency to it. Not that it is life or death for goodness sake.

Just the simple fact that I cannot communicate with him when I want to irritates me.

No phone call from him during the work day. No chatting about nothing important when he gets home. No sitting quietly together, watching tv or reading.

Just nothing. Just a big empty hole where no words or anything gets through.

Grumpy now and working on cranky.

Time served...

Time served... those are two words police officers and District Attorneys do not like to hear spoken in court. It simply means that yes, this person is guilty but they have been sitting in jail for a bit (mostly because they couldn't make bond) and we are going to let them go. As a former police officer I can tell you, it does kind of make you wonder why you arrested the guy/gal in the first place.

Yesterday or the day before, in Yorktown VA a whacko man assaulted and stabbed his former girlfriend and took her hostage in the WalMart. Now, normally I would pass over this as I just flat out hate the news but it caught my attention for several reasons.

First, this is my favorite WalMart - nice, fairly new, clean - and I shop there a good bit. How dare someone shut it down for several hours because they do not know how to resolve an argument peacefully? Really?!? Do they not teach proper conflict resolution these days? And don't give me that crap about his bad upbringing and being poor - I know plenty of poor people that don't stab the one they are arguing with.

Second, the guy got out of jail on the 23rd of this month. Yep - you heard me right, just 4/5 days before this he was sentenced to "time served". Guess what his crime was? Assaulting the same woman in a domestic disturbance. Time served - yep - hate those two words.

We, as a population, really need to think about this type of thing. If someone assaults me do I want them getting out on time served so they can come back and do it again? I get that jails are full, I get that housing these people is expensive but there are alternatives.

We could all do what that sheriff out west is doing - house them in tents and make them work the chain gang... he even has female prisoners doing it because he wants to be "fair". No TV either. And he feeds them what the kids eat in public schools.... who is going to say that the food isn't adequate?

We could make them have prison farms that pay for themselves... bad year farming = lean winter of eating. Seems reasonable to me.

We could fence off Utah and put them all there. They would be responsible for everything - food, water, electricity.... it could be a penal colony like Georgia was and Australia.... if they kill each other oh well.... yeah, I have no sympathy and saw "Escape from New York" too many times.

We have to think of something. This type of thing happens every day and gets closer to home with every occurrence. Just saying "you were bad and we made you sit in jail for a week or two" isn't cutting it. Not anymore.

Okay - that's all I've got on that, for now. It just riles me up and gets me cranky to dwell on it and I don't need to be riled or craned any more than I already am.

Later...

proud? of me?

You may or may not know.... I went to see The VIllage People and KC and the Sunshine Band on Saturday. It was a fantastic concert and we had a blast. By we I mean me and my friend MJ (short for Messy Jessy). I took some video (against the rules) and got a great little video of her doing the Y-M-C-A "dance". It was totally fun. At intermission she handed me her phone and said "Ask for Marth."

Back up - her parents are WIllie and Marth. He is a retired Navy Captain about whom I have MANY stories and she is just Marth - stoic Navy wife and mother. Librarian extraordinaire. Punisher of great talent.

Anyway, I talked to Marth and told her that I had posted video of MJ to Facebook if they wanted to watch it - yes, we are friends on FB. SHe said great and then said "WIllie wants to talk to you." Now, WIllie is quite imposing. He is a great guy, don't get me wrong, but he definitely carries and aura of leadership and "he who must be obeyed" - comes with that whole Navy O-6 thing I guess. Add in that I haven't seen him for about 30 years and I was right back to being a teen again.

He asked me how I liked Navy life, how was I doing with it, what was my husband like, what rank was he, what did he do and what was his current job.... then he said he was proud of me. He was proud of me.... wow. He said he knew how hard it was to be good at it and that he was proud of me. Then he said he was proud of my husband, a man he had never met. That is the whole brothers-in-arms thing that service members have going.

My mind, so used to being proud of my husband, could wrap around that. He rocks. He is excellent at his job. His peers respect him. The people that work for him respect him. His bosses respect him. Others wives say things like "have your husband teach my husband how to do that" when talking about the gentlemanly behavior he exhibits at functions or the way he holds me during a Homecoming. He is so deserving of the respect.... I get that.

Me? Someone besides my mom proud of me? I mean, my son is proud of me mostly 'cause I am his mom and his friends like me, I am smart blah blah blah.... My sisters are proud, I suppose, to a point. I am pretty sure my husband is proud - I have always striven to be a good wife and support him and his Command.

But someone else? Someone I haven't seen in forever? Proud? Wow. It meant so much. I got choked up. He talked about how hard it is and that it takes someone special to love a service member. He said that I and my husband were in his prayers. It was fantastic, that feeling I had. I have been pulling it up for a few minutes every day and reliving that moment. I feel like a kid who has brought home A's on their report card and told "good job, I knew you could do it".

The whole point of this one is to tell someone you are proud of them. Mean it. Tell them why. You will really make their day!

Dog Days of Summer

So, it is July and I am in SC for a few weeks. It is hot. By hot, I mean heat index of 117. Hot. Mama is kind of getting up there in age so she thinks it is comfortable. Ha. It is hot. We were no the porch yesterday, about 9 in the morning, just sitting and rocking and talking. She was comfortable. I had sweat pouring down my body.

It is so hot that you take a cool shower and when you cut the water off you are still sweating. Hot. Burning in hell must be something like this - of course, hell is probably a dry heat so "it isn't as bad".

My dogs are hot. Mom's, um, dog (?) is hot. The cats, both indoor and outdoor, are hot. The inside cats are staying off the porch and the outside cats are trying to find relief by laying on the concrete. This creates a minor problem for the dogs.... well, for Helga. She has been traumatized by the cats.... inside and outside. Last week one of the inside cats chased her into the shower stall.... now, this wouldn't be a tremendous thing except I was actually in the shower at the time and Helga hates and fears water. Mama's cats stare at her. Glare really, in that totally evil way that cats have. The solid black one, the one that chased her into the shower, truly does look evil. He will glare, and stretch, and push out his claws.... kind of scares me so I can only imagine how terrified she is.

The outside cats have figured out her fear - they will drape over the stairs so when I let the dogs out I have to go down first and shoo all the cats... really annoying. Otto has figured out how to go around but Helga, oh no, she isn't getting anywhere near them without me be her side. Kind of a pain in the butt but I can handle it.

So it is hot. The dogs are developing phobias about cats and water. As we speak Helga is poised about two feet form the black cat, growling (as if that has any effect). I will hear her scream shortly and we will have drama - not that he will actually make contact with her but all it takes is a hiss and a swipe and she is off and screaming as if her leg has been cut off - drama queen is her new title. I will then put them out (the dogs), which means I will be out, sitting and trying not to move, sweating and wondering why I even bothered to shower. Hot. Dog Days.

Maybe I'll just go nap.

E-mail is a beautiful thing

I've been getting regular e-mails from The Hubster - this is a wonderful thing.... sometimes they are just one liners, but I worry when I don't get them.

Ah, the life of a Navy wife - I have already talked about our phone and such... now some about e-mail. We love to get them from our service members. It can make your whole day. It is even better when we can trade them back and forth almost like a chat. Those instances are rare - so rare that when they do happen, no matter when, we do not leave our computers until it is done.... even if the house is on fire. We want, no, we need that contact.

I am old enough that I remember no e-mail. I remember no satellite phones. I remember going through my buddies pregnancy and attending the birth as the "acting father" because her hubby had been out to sea since her 2nd month. He got back when the baby was almost two weeks old. The only things we could send were family grams.... one letter or punctuation mark per square and not very many squares.... we, needless to say, did not use spaces, ever. There would be phone calls during port calls but this was also the Cold War so the port calls were few and far between. There was so little communication between military coupes then....

I giggle now.... so many of these new "baby Navy wives" just don't get it. So the ship is RIver City or your sailor is busy so you don't get e-mail for a few days... they freak out. Really. They get angry and hurt and upset.... some of them send off mean e-mails, sad e-mails, "don't you love me anymore" e-mails.... really?!? He is working. He is working hard. Depending on what kind of ship he is on his schedule might be 6's - six hours on, six off. And in that six he has to shower, sleep, take care of any other tasks like getting a haircut, and probably has training as well. He is tired and working hard. If he doesn't have access to a computer that is set up for e-mail then he has to go use one of the ones in the library - and he isn't the only guy trying to get on there.

So, e-mail is a beautiful thing. And, if your sailor has time to send you a fairly long chatty one it is even better. But I take the one liners too - and love them just as much. It might just say "tired... heading to bed" but it tells me he thought about me, and that is a beautiful thing.

I have Scriptus Interuptis

I do, I really, really do. Writer's block. It sucks. Normally I just sit and write - all kinds of stuff comes out and I separate the wheat from the chaff later. I can sit and write this.... mostly because it is just me complaining... but a story? Are you kidding? I don't even think I could talk one through....

I have lots of them. They are rolling around in my head and refusing to come out. I can't even think how to start one. I have some that are half done but I sit to work on them and.... nothing. Nada. Zip. Zilch.

Yesterday I tried just letting my fingers hit keys. Gobbledy gook. That's what I got. Crap. Nothing.

I'm not distracted. I told The Hubster in an e-mail that I am just unenthused.

I'm thinking about publishing the first book to The Nook. Waiting on their software to be up and running...

I'm thinking about the cover for the new book.

I'm thinking about TeenDream and his life.

I'm thinking about all kinds of things.

The words are stuck somewhere.

Oh well.... guess I will just hang out and wait for htem to come back.

My Sis#2 says I am a Masochist

So..... last night Sis#2 and I were talking about dating military men, being married to them, and some of the obligations that come along with it... this is a continuation of a talk we had a few weeks ago regarding military people and some behaviors you might see before they deploy. We also touched on thing like "when the drunk service member calls at 2 in the morning"....

My husband, God love him, has called me several times at 2 in the morning... a few of those times just a wee bit more than tipsy. Usually I take it with good humor - he misses me and wants to let me know he loves me. Every now and then (post-typhoon with raging double ear infections, no water, no power, and high temperatures...) yeah, not so happy about it. Then I cuss him. Rudely.

I don't know if female service members do this, but I can definitely state that many of the men do... regardless of the branch of the service they are in. Other men with jobs that take them away from home do it too.

My Sis#2 was appalled. She just doesn't get it - military wives can't be high maintenance.... if we are our marriages tend to fail. We have to have different expectations of our spouses.... they can't be home for dinner every night... military life doesn't work that way. They can't call/e-mail every day when they are gone.... military life doesn't work like that either. We love the phone calls... even the drunken ones. Maybe not at the time, but in retrospect those calls make a pretty good story at parties.

Are we masochists? Maybe to the outside eye, but to those of us married to service members.... we just understand. We get it. The extreme pressure they are under can do two things to a marriage - it can break it, and in some cases it does. Or it can make it - which is the case with strong spouses.... we don't have to be babied and coddled, although sometimes our service members do that. We don't need to be catered to. We don't need constant reinforcement. We are strong, capable, able.... our love is strong enough to weather the separations, storms, and issues that crop up.

Masochists? Hardly. Loving, forgiving, supportive military spouse. You betcha.