Sunday, March 16, 2008
Bedtime
Nights are the hardest for me. Sometimes I stay up real late just to be sure I will fall asleep fast and not have time to feel sorry for my self. Laundry at 11pm? You bet!
Wednesday, March 5, 2008
How can I keep from singing
He was going to be arriving home at 8:30 pm, but has moved his flight up to 5pm! I was counting on using those few hours between work and his arrival to "set things right" in the house; do the pile of dishes, vacuum up the dog hair, change the sheets, maybe prepare a nice little meal, music, candles ect. but now..... !! It'll be a mad dash to get home before he does and I guess I'll probably only have time for the dishes and the vacuuming. Oh well, a bottle of Knob Creek ought to make up for rest. Happy Day!
Tuesday, March 4, 2008
I haven’t blogged for a while. Like Kiwi at Sea I have started and not completed many entries. Here in a blog nutshell is what I’ve been doing that I couldn't bring my self to post a single entry for quite some time.
My husband was home for a very nice long holiday season beginning before Thanksgiving and lasting into the second week of January. While this was lovely amount of time to spend together, it was also NOT part of the financial “plan-to-success” or as we like to say “we had to dip into the Morris Fund”. (Yes, aren’t I smart, I’ve figured out how to use hyperlinks.)
Part of the reason he was home so long what that he had left one job where he found the ship unsafe and the work more racking on his body than he wanted. Totally understandable, I need my husband to be both living and healthy for this marriage to work. So during his time off he looked at many different jobs and settled on a temporary assignment in the armpit of the earth, otherwise known as Port Fuchon, LA. Now I have never been to Port Fuchon but I’m heard it’s not a real tourist destination.
The other part of the reason my sailor husband was home so long was his father’s impending death. So as per Murphy’s Law as soon as Husband heads off the dirty bath of the Gulf of Mexico, his father took a turn for the worse. Luckily the company had pity and got him home as quickly as possible and a son was able to be by his father’s side at the time of death. Everything went as well as a death could possibly go.
I was in Seattle for work at this time and was able to catch a red eye back in time to help with all the arrangements. It was a long weekend preceded by a week of 10 hour days in the booth at the Seattle Boat Show. Monday came and went and husband was back at Sea by Friday.
THEN came the big news as work. I work for a company in the maritime industry and a few Thursdays ago we found out we are For Sale. The following day people from were let go and all weekend I paced the house wondering if I would last the following week. Well I did. I am one of the lucky ones who works in a division that will very likely be bought and with some luck I may even get to keep my job.
It has been absolutely heartbreaking to see people being “let go” at work. It has reminded me once more to count my lucky stars. Husband and I have no mortgage, no children and two incomes. This is not the case for many of the people who have been let go from the company. At work, it’s been like scenes straight out of Office Space ever since the Announcement. I love this job and this company and I hope to buckle in and hang on as we go through some changes.
My husband was home for a very nice long holiday season beginning before Thanksgiving and lasting into the second week of January. While this was lovely amount of time to spend together, it was also NOT part of the financial “plan-to-success” or as we like to say “we had to dip into the Morris Fund”. (Yes, aren’t I smart, I’ve figured out how to use hyperlinks.)
Part of the reason he was home so long what that he had left one job where he found the ship unsafe and the work more racking on his body than he wanted. Totally understandable, I need my husband to be both living and healthy for this marriage to work. So during his time off he looked at many different jobs and settled on a temporary assignment in the armpit of the earth, otherwise known as Port Fuchon, LA. Now I have never been to Port Fuchon but I’m heard it’s not a real tourist destination.
The other part of the reason my sailor husband was home so long was his father’s impending death. So as per Murphy’s Law as soon as Husband heads off the dirty bath of the Gulf of Mexico, his father took a turn for the worse. Luckily the company had pity and got him home as quickly as possible and a son was able to be by his father’s side at the time of death. Everything went as well as a death could possibly go.
I was in Seattle for work at this time and was able to catch a red eye back in time to help with all the arrangements. It was a long weekend preceded by a week of 10 hour days in the booth at the Seattle Boat Show. Monday came and went and husband was back at Sea by Friday.
THEN came the big news as work. I work for a company in the maritime industry and a few Thursdays ago we found out we are For Sale. The following day people from were let go and all weekend I paced the house wondering if I would last the following week. Well I did. I am one of the lucky ones who works in a division that will very likely be bought and with some luck I may even get to keep my job.
It has been absolutely heartbreaking to see people being “let go” at work. It has reminded me once more to count my lucky stars. Husband and I have no mortgage, no children and two incomes. This is not the case for many of the people who have been let go from the company. At work, it’s been like scenes straight out of Office Space ever since the Announcement. I love this job and this company and I hope to buckle in and hang on as we go through some changes.
Vulnerable
Vulnerable.
vul·ner·a·ble
Function: adjective
Etymology: Late Latin vulnerabilis, from Latin vulnerare to wound, from vulner-, vulnus wound; probably akin to Latin vellere to pluck, Greek oulē wound
Date: 1605
1:capable of being physically or emotionally wounded
2 : open to attack or damage : assailable
3 : liable to increased penalties but entitled to increased bonuses after winning a game in contract bridge
When my husband is at sea I sometimes feel this way. It’s a strange sensation that I feel most when he first leaves and then again just before he comes home, usually beginning around day 24 or 25.
I first noticed this feeling while driving. There was a time 5 or 6 years ago when I was a bit of an aggressive driver; a vehicle tailgating mine would find they suddenly had to stop short when I slammed on my breaks and stuck my finger out the window. Not very lady-like I know. Eventually I graduated to not sticking my finger out the window and just pretending to have seen a cat or some wildlife that made me stop so suddenly, but I still had the evil sly sneer on my face when I glanced back at them in the mirror. Luckily I have grown up enough now that I no longer slam on my breaks when someone is riding my stern a bit too close. If they are terribly aggressive I will pull over, right off the road if it’s safe to, and let them pass. Now, here’s the vulnerability part. If I’m feeling brave (and usually I am) I’ll smile a REALLY big fake smiley and wave vivaciously at them hoping they somehow will feel bad about their act. But if I’m missing my sailor or feeling especially alone in the world I will look away and not make eye contact because horrible visions of being followed and further harassed fill my head! What if they follow me home! What if they try to smash into my car with theirs! What if….?! It’s ridiculous I know, and to tell the truth I often miss the girl who thought nothing of flipping off some meathead in a huge truck with truck nuts and a NASCAR sticker.
Just a few moments ago a car smashed into a snow pile at the entrance to our driveway. I heard a loud squeal and a crunch and then a revving engine and looked out the window of my rental to investigate. There perched atop the snow pile was a black sedan. The car’s front axel was entirely off the ground about 5 feet off the pavement and onto MY yard and MY snow pile. I did not recognize the car or the male driver and I called the police. A few years ago, before marriage, before knowing the feeling of security that only my husband can offer me, I would be been out he door with a snow shovel, a phone, and a mag light showing no fear and even offering to help push this car back onto the road. Today I peaked through the curtains and waited with my breath held for the police to come – which they did promptly. A tow truck was called and the whole thing is now over. But that one incident will have me feeling on edge for the rest of the night. He comes home tomorrow.
vul·ner·a·ble
Function: adjective
Etymology: Late Latin vulnerabilis, from Latin vulnerare to wound, from vulner-, vulnus wound; probably akin to Latin vellere to pluck, Greek oulē wound
Date: 1605
1:capable of being physically or emotionally wounded
2 : open to attack or damage : assailable
3 : liable to increased penalties but entitled to increased bonuses after winning a game in contract bridge
When my husband is at sea I sometimes feel this way. It’s a strange sensation that I feel most when he first leaves and then again just before he comes home, usually beginning around day 24 or 25.
I first noticed this feeling while driving. There was a time 5 or 6 years ago when I was a bit of an aggressive driver; a vehicle tailgating mine would find they suddenly had to stop short when I slammed on my breaks and stuck my finger out the window. Not very lady-like I know. Eventually I graduated to not sticking my finger out the window and just pretending to have seen a cat or some wildlife that made me stop so suddenly, but I still had the evil sly sneer on my face when I glanced back at them in the mirror. Luckily I have grown up enough now that I no longer slam on my breaks when someone is riding my stern a bit too close. If they are terribly aggressive I will pull over, right off the road if it’s safe to, and let them pass. Now, here’s the vulnerability part. If I’m feeling brave (and usually I am) I’ll smile a REALLY big fake smiley and wave vivaciously at them hoping they somehow will feel bad about their act. But if I’m missing my sailor or feeling especially alone in the world I will look away and not make eye contact because horrible visions of being followed and further harassed fill my head! What if they follow me home! What if they try to smash into my car with theirs! What if….?! It’s ridiculous I know, and to tell the truth I often miss the girl who thought nothing of flipping off some meathead in a huge truck with truck nuts and a NASCAR sticker.
Just a few moments ago a car smashed into a snow pile at the entrance to our driveway. I heard a loud squeal and a crunch and then a revving engine and looked out the window of my rental to investigate. There perched atop the snow pile was a black sedan. The car’s front axel was entirely off the ground about 5 feet off the pavement and onto MY yard and MY snow pile. I did not recognize the car or the male driver and I called the police. A few years ago, before marriage, before knowing the feeling of security that only my husband can offer me, I would be been out he door with a snow shovel, a phone, and a mag light showing no fear and even offering to help push this car back onto the road. Today I peaked through the curtains and waited with my breath held for the police to come – which they did promptly. A tow truck was called and the whole thing is now over. But that one incident will have me feeling on edge for the rest of the night. He comes home tomorrow.
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