Just Deserts


Offspring is officially an adult.  An adult who graduated a whole semester early and signed his soul away in service to our aging alcoholic uncle, Sam.


USA icon Uncle Sam holding a bottle of Wild Turkey


All of which has got us telling lots of military life stories around here.  I’m currently about 14% nervous that my mother-in-law found this blog and will tell my father about it, so we’re going to skip the time my mother told a 3-star General what she really thought about the Marine Corps—or the pair of idiotic MP’s who got chased out of our yard by what they later swore was a bear—and stick with what we’re good at here: Husband’s Army stories.



That’s right, it’s Story Time!


Don’t stop now – keep reading!


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!

“That New Italian Place” (Story Time!)


First off, I need to make sure y’all understand that I am not an Italian food snob.  I mean, I’ve had amazing authentic Italian, at little places I can’t name because there’s exactly one location and I remember it when I’m in the neighborhood (you know how it goes, right?  Please tell me I’m not the only one who navigates/feeds herself like this) so I do know what good is.  It’s fucking amazing and leaves you food drunk and unable to properly contemplate your next meal, even many hours later, because nothing will ever be quite that tasty.


But I’m also a sucker for Olive Garden. 

Don’t stop now – keep reading!