Sunny Sunday

Blake has been so stressed out about Primary that blogging fell by the wayside. He feels like he's the only one making mistakes, like he's the only one who's not taking to the T-34 like a fish to water... which his friends say is totally not true, they're all making the same mistakes. Anyway, a few pep talks later and he's got his head back in the game (mostly).

So, it's beautiful outside. As you can see from the above picture, our tomato plants finally have real flowers! Hooooooray! Our garden is coming along beautifully. You can kind of see how far they've come from the pictures I posted when we planted it. I'm very excited. It's so nice having fresh parsley and rosemary, I can't wait to have fresh... well... everything.

When I was little, my mom had a ginormous, extremely tasty garden. I'm talking the works, people: tomatoes, peas, beans, spinach, lettuces, asparagus, peppers, cucumbers, squash, zucchini. It was HEAVEN! Someday, I will have a garden like that. Mark my words. My container garden is nice, but a little weeding would make me feel like I accomplished something. Yes, I know, asking for weeds is crazy because once weeds start growing, you have to work like a fiend to fend them off.

Maybe someday I'll be one of those old ladies in faded jeans and t-shirt, floppy hat on my head, wicker basket at my side. Collecting vegetables and pulling weeds with my worn in gloves.

Running Wild

My husband hates shoe shopping.

There's a surprise. The one thing he does care about? His running shoes. Yesterday we went to an awesome store in Pensacola called Running Wild. They really know what they're doing there. After, I talked Blake into buying a pair of sandals. He's very anti-thong sandal. Always has been. I used peer pressure and he got a pair. I was happy, though I will never get him to wear a pair of Converse. I can't even picture it. Weird.

Today is cleaning day. Because I worked full-time all week, the apartment was a disaster. Really gross. All fixed now. Laundry done. Bread in the oven (though I forgot the salt). Dinner done because we're having leftovers.

I had about half a loaf of stale bread so I decided to make stuffing. Awesome idea! Stuffing is too good to only have at Thanksgiving and Christmas. The onion. The celery. The poultry seasoning. Heaven.

Now I'm off to bury my nose in books.

Doerbirds

It's no secret. I love the color orange.

I wasn't always so lucky to have such fine, upper-class taste. No, my attachment to all things orange came swiftly and beautifully, like a summer sunrise (which is also orange). During my three and a half years at Syracuse University, I saw more orange than you can shake a stick at. Really. There are not enough hours in the day.

So, when I found out The Husband had been placed in VT-2 at Whiting, I was ecstatic. Finally, he too loves orange. For entirely different reasons of course, but hey, today it's orange t-shirts and tomorrow it's trekking to S.U. to hug Otto.


Pictured: Otto as Linda Blair

Anyway, last night was the "Bring Your Spouses to Whiting" night. There was Domino's Pizza and little bottles of soda, lots of kids running around and the obligatory Top Gun reference. It was fun. Squadrons three and six were also there, but unfortunately, all three squadrons' XOs and COs were away at conference. Oh well.

I got to climb onto a T-34, which was cool. Blake explained where all of the stuff was that I've been helping him study. Twas nice. Although I still don't know why there are two different color fire hydrants on base (the standard red and the mysterious blue). They're so close together I have a hard time believing they're both water. Any answers?

Today Blake meets his on-wing. The man who will be watching and grading his every move for five months. Yikes.

I have another day of temping ahead of me.

Just noticed that I've neglected to water the receptionist's peace lilly. Better get on that. Killing plants is a great way to make people hate you.

Deluge

You know what's a terrible thing to blog about? Weather.

Because everyone has opinions on the weather and no one wants to read about such a mundane, everyday occurrance. Well, tough nuggets folks, because this morning, I thought Milton, Florida was going to be swept away by a two-hundred foot wall of water. I thought I was going to see entire houses floating by the office where I'm temping this week.

No, I didn't see that. But, I did see a car sitting in a considerable amount of water. You know how "experts" say not to drive into a puddle of water because you never know how deep it is? Well... take heed. Take very careful heed. The poor woman missed the pavement completely and drove/floated over a three-inch curb and into a drainage ditch. She noticed neither curb nor ditch because the water was halfway up her car door.

She called into the office to say she would be late for her interview... she was at the building, but couldn't get out of her car. She was semi-hysterical. I told her to call her insurance company. They were minimal help, but did end up calling the firemen to rescue her. She's got a busted-up car that still runs and, bless her heart, she still did the job interview.

Blake called me in the midst of all this and asked if I could run the car up to him (we carpooled). He forgot his knee board and gloves at home. I said I would drive up if he wanted, but by all accounts, the roads were pretty much undriveable. He opted to borrow his forgotten items from a colleague for which I was very glad.

Things are calm once more, though the skies still look like the underside of someone's muddy boot. The parking lot is no longer Lake Milton. I would, however, like to relate one more thing. When someone is in trouble, panicking and confused, have some humanity. This being my first day here, I wasn't sure if there was a procedure if someone had an accident on the grounds or if this sort of thing had happened before. I told the woman's situation to the facility manager and he seemed more disgusted by the woman's stupidity than concerned for her safety. He didn't want to go outside and get all wet himself. What did she expect him to do? Well... I don't know. I felt pretty helpless myself, but at least I wanted to go out and have a word with her. I called her back to see how she was and offered to call the police or fire department or tow truck. Yes, she made a grave error driving into the water, but you know what? She's paying for it with her tears and her car.

Kindness is free.

Happy *insert occassion here*

Turned 23 on Saturday. First birthday out of N.Y. (except for the teensy-tiny exception of my birth in S. Korea).

Blake and I went to the movies on Friday and saw "Observe and Report." Before seeing it, I read some reviews. They were not kind. I won't get into details, but it had its low (very low) points and its high (very high) points. So, it was disgusting, disturbing and inappropriately hilarious. It takes the award for "random funny." Seriously. Lots of things you just don't see coming.

Anyway, Saturday I made myself a cake (devil's food with cream cheese chocolate icing) and for dinner, Blake grilled a steak to perfection. It was a great night... until I got sick. Spent the last hour or so of my birthday seriously ill. Oh well. I was okay when I woke up for Easter.

What did we do for the big event? Well... I took an allergy pill, made fried chicken, passed out from said-allergy pill and then we watched a movie. The last half of dinner up until the movie-watching is blackout. Happy Easter. Thanks, Benadryl.

NAS Whiting Field (or... Primary and marriage)

I got my first look at NAS Whiting Field today. It's beautiful.

Pensacola is kind of like the "big city" of bases. It's pretty huge, lots of fancy amenities, lots of buildings. It's a hub. Whiting Field is more picturesque.

Being new to the Navy life, I've only experienced a handful of bases, but of course, I know Pensacola is an exception. Still, I didn't expect so much... green at Whiting. Lots of trees and forest, beautiful wooden fences, landscapers mulching the ground with fresh, red cedar.

I saw the trainer planes and helicopters all lined up in neat orange and white rows, the command building with its white gables. It kind of looked like a resort, which would make anyone in training there laugh until they passed out from lack of oxygen.

Another first. My husband finally let me help him study his EPs (Emergency Procedures). He has to know them by rote, which is difficult considering the sheer number of things that can go wrong with a plane. He knew it would be easier if I helped him, but he didn't ask because he didn't want to "inconvenience" me. I was slack-jawed. Seriously? I LOVE helping him. I LOVE being part of the process. He knows this about me.

You know why he was scared to ask? The Navy. He's heard so many times, from so many officers of all ranks that Primary is a marriage-killer. That your wife will feel ignored. She will whine and complain and think you don't love her. She will resent all you. Then, they turn around and say that you should ask your wife to help you study. Hmmm... Blake's heard so many horror stories of guys' crazy wives that he's on eggshells trying to keep my psyche from falling apart. My psyche is fine, thank you very much.

I felt pretty bad for him. Luckily, it's all sorted out. He was visibly relieved.

It made me think, though...

Wives feeling ignored is unavoidable in the military. I mean, seriously, they're called deployments, but having your husband one room away, nose in a book until 9:00 at night, wanting to be left alone, that sounds harsh.

A lot of guys in flight school are newlyweds, or new to living with their significant other. That alone is enough change to make your head spin. Throw in the fact that your husband is the invisible man, and it probably makes some women go crazy. Honestly? I have little to no sympathy. You must have heard, he must have told you, that it's tough. There are hours and hours of studying and hard work to be put in. After-class time on simulators, night flights, random hours, flight plans. Sorry. That's just the way it is. No amount of complaining will make a difference. It will only hinder his training, which is dangerous.

Go ahead, tell him you miss him and of course, you wish you could spend more time together, but don't guilt him into things he doesn't have time for.

Whew. Okay, off the soap box and back to work.

It's Here

Hello world... I have PMS. I feel very sad today and couldn't figure out why... then I looked at the calendar.

I wish there was more weekend. Just one more day. I don't know... I think because on the weekends, you can just kick back. You don't have to think about business or money or bills because there's no mail on Sunday and offices are closed. Not that we're getting calls from bill collectors or anything, but when PMS kicks in, logic doesn't factor into emotions as much as usual.

Oh well. Admitting I have PMS is the first step to curing it. Good thing I have an understanding husband.

I like it.

Today was made good by one thing... the library. I have a deep, abiding love for public libraries. Some of my first memories are of story time back home, before kindergarten. The books. The painting. The pasta necklaces. All good memories.

I love walking the shelves, no particular book or author in mind, just reading titles and jackets. It can be a bit daunting in fiction, but in non-fiction, it's just... nice. I picked up a couple of WWII books today along with my usual assortment of fiction. I've learned the hard way that when it comes to checking out history books, best not to mix your wars. One at a time.

Also, I got groceries sans husband. He stayed home to study (thanks, Primary).

The rest of my day? Video games. Books. Finishing Airline. Have you seen it? Airline was a series that aired for one season on A&E. FASCINATING. I'm not a frequent flier, but seeing as how I married a military guy, I will be intimately acquainted with airlines through the years. This show dealt with Southwest and let me tell you, there is some serious crazy running around in airports across tthe nation. Yes, there is your normal array of unreasonably disgruntled customers who take out their frustration on the wrong people, but there is also a guy in a tiger costume, a guy in a velour mini-skirt who goes commando, a woman separated from her life-saving medication, an irate and curse-spewing grandma, lots of drunk people and a wedding dress with tire marks down its front. Yikes. The narration is boring, but the meat of the show is extremely interesting.

Unlike most reality TV shows, it's kind of informational. You get to see how an airline works. More importantly, though, I hope those crazy-angry customers see themselves on TV and realize how dumb they look.