Meet Becky

 

The greeting cards have all been sent, the Christmas rush is through…

 

The time has come, dear followers, to get a li’l real with you.

 

My son, my baby boy, is basically an adult.

 

Don’t stop now – keep reading!

Advertisements

Ich bin ein Berliner – A Greek Saga, Pt III (Story Time!)

 

And now for the thrilling conclusion of our Greek saga.  It is Wednesday, October 4, 1995. 

 

Husband, you will recall, is in Frankfurt, Germany (where he is not supposed to be) on his way back from Bangor, Maine, USA (where he was not supposed to be).  He is supposed to be getting his ass back to Skopje, Macedonia, but the borders have been closed until further notice.

 

map of Macedonia, pin in Skopje

 

He is, for those of you who cannot be arsed to read the previous two stories(1 & 2), utterly fucked.  And we haven’t even gotten to the part where he negotiates with shady characters, gets bartered away like a Rölexx watch, and bluffs his way past certain death under bright lights and the watchful eye of a half-dozen itchy trigger fingers.

 

I am so excited to see how this turns out!

The Dry Fire Misfire (Story Time!)

 

This, I’m afraid, is not a story about a thing my husband did.  Or a thing my husband said.  (Although, seriously, remind me to tell you about the time he started a rumor as a social experiment that ended in flooding and destruction of government property and necessary supplies.)
This is yet another story about his time in a snazzy blue beret, during his days as a Professional Walker.  In this story, he was walking along and just happened to witness one of Uncle Sam’s finest, being all he could be. 

 

Don’t stop now – keep reading!