A Shocking Job

This is sooo crazy! I don't remember who originally sent me this link, but I love watching the video. I definitely don't recommend this kind of job for those scared of heights... or electricity.

glumbert - High Power Job

One Life, Multiplied

My husband sent this video to me, after seeing it on ESPN, and after watching it I had to post it here. Make sure to grab the Kleenex.

The Silent Ranks

I wear no uniforms, no blues or army greens.
But I am in the Military in the ranks rarely seen.
I have no rank upon my shoulders. Salutes I do not give.
But the Military world is the place where I live.

I'm not in the chain of command, orders I do not get.
But my husband is the one who does, this I cannot forget.
I'm not the one who fires the weapon, who puts my life on the line.
But my job is just as tough. I'm the one that's left behind.

My husband is a patriot, a brave and prideful man
And the call to serve his country, not all can understand.
Behind the lines I see the things needed to keep this country free.
My husband makes the sacrifice, but so do our kids and me.

I love the man I married. The Navy is his life.
But I stand among the silent ranks known as the Military Wife.
~Author Unknown

I just want to dedicate this to all the wonderful women I've come to know throughout the Military, who've stood behind and beside their husbands though heartache, separation, good times and bad. It takes strength, fortitude, an amazing amount of patience and grace to do what you do. Together we help each other get through the tough times, and we rejoice together when our men come home. We know the struggles, we laugh at the mishaps (after-the-fact, of course), we give each other advice and a shoulder to lean on. We all know what it's like to have everything fall apart the day our guys leave. Heck, the first time my husband left, my toilet overflowed, a headlight on my car burnt out (and I was stopped by the cops because of it), and a huge spider made it's appearance in our apartment. It never fails - ask any wife. As soon as our guys are on their way, the house falls apart, the kids get sick (every time my husband went out on deployment, my kids came down with something horrible the day before), the car breaks down...

But we live with it, because we have to. We deal with it, because it's our job, our duty. We love our husbands, we support them, we do what we can to make them successful and able to focus on the job they have to do. It's hard and lonesome, but the reunions are more joyful than you can describe. There's nothing like the feeling of seeing your man walking towards you for the first time in so many months. That first kiss... seeing your kids jump into his arms... and knowing that once again, he's made it safely back to you.

So this is to you, the Military Wife. Cheers!

The Military Wife

The Good Lord was creating a model for Military wives and was into his sixth day of overtime when an angel appeared. She said," Lord, you seem to be having a lot of trouble with this one. What's wrong with the standard model?"

The Lord replied," Have you seen the specs on this order? She has to be completely independent, possess the qualities of both mother and father, be a perfect hostess for four to 40 with an hour notice, run on black coffee, handle every emergency imaginable without a manual, be able to carry on cheerfully, even if she is pregnant and has the flu, and she must have six pairs of hands."

The angel shook her head. "Six pairs of hands? No way!"

The Lord continued. "Don't worry, we will make other military wives to help her. And we will give her an unusually strong heart so it can swell with pride in her husbands achievements, sustain the pain of separation, beat soundly when it is overworked and tired, and be large enough to say, "I understand" when she doesn't and "I love you" regardless.

"Lord," said the angel, touching his arm gently, "Go to bed and get some rest. You can finish this tomorrow."

"I can't stop now," Said the Lord. "I am so close to creating something unique. Already this model heals herself when she is sick, can put up six unexpected guests for the weekend, wave good-bye to her husband from a pier, a runway or a depot, and understand why it's important that he leave."

The angel circled the model of the Military wife, looked at it closely and sighed.

"It looks fine, but it's too soft."

"She may look soft," replied the Lord, "but she has the strength of a lion. You would not believe what she can endure."

Finally, the angel bent over and ran her finger across the cheek of the Lord's creation. "There's a leak," she announced. "Something is wrong with the construction. I'm not surprised that it has cracked. You are trying to put too much into this model."

The Lord appeared offended at the angel's lack of confidence. "What you see is not a leak," he said. "It's a tear."

"A tear? What is it there for?" asked the angel.

The Lord replied, "It's for joy, sadness, pain, disappointment, loneliness, pride and dedication to all the values that she and her husband hold dear."

"You are a genius!" exclaimed the angel.

The Lord looked puzzled and replied, "I didn't put it there."

~Author Unknown

A Familiar Sight

Taken by my husband from the deck of the USS SHOUP, currently in San Francisco for Fleet Week.

That is Treasure Island. No, not that big lump of land on the right. That's YBI, or Yerba Buena Island. It's more to the left... if you squint... kinda see it yet? It's a little flat. ;) That's because Treasure Island is built on landfill. An island of landfill? In the middle of the bay? In an area laced with faults and prone to earthquakes?

Yeah. Not the smartest idea. As they found out in October of 1989. October 17, to be exact. Weird to think we're coming up on 20 years since then!!! Oh wow, do I feel old all of a sudden. Ok, so in a week it will have been 18 years. Since the largest earthquake I've ever personally experienced. Something none of us in the Loma Prieta earthquake will ever forget.

Living on an island made of landfill in an earthquake is an unsettling experience (pardon the pun). Try being stranded in the middle of a body of water for two weeks. With your streets flooded with raw sewage. The air reeking of natural gas. Statues and old building foundations emerging through the ground, long buried from the 1939 World's Fair. No water. No electricity. Cracked walls. Sinking floors.

Scary? Um, yeah. You could say that.

Eventually the sewage was cleaned up. We had lye sprinkled on the streets and sidewalks for weeks after that. My cat ran away, and was gone until almost Halloween. Thankfully, she did come home - almost starved-to-death. They anchored an aircraft carrier out in the bay to provide us with electricity. They brought in porta-potties (one per court... for the occupants of the approx. 24 housing units surrounding that court to use) and water buffaloes, and eventually set up an army tent so we could get showers. They alternated men's days/hours with womens' days/hours. Very odd experience, that.

I lived on Naval Station Treasure Island from Aug. of '89 until late-1995, when they were in the process of closing down the Military bases in the Bay Area. Presidio had already been turned into a park. Oaknoll Naval Hospital was closed. Ships were slowly being transferred from Naval Air Station Alameda to various other ports. My dad was on the Abe Lincoln when it changed homeports to PSNS-Bremerton (now NBK-Bremerton. Though the Lincoln isn't there anymore; it's now stationed at the same base as my husband's ship, in Everett). So right before my 16th birthday, we moved away.

It's so sad to go visit the island now. We were down there a couple years ago to visit my family in the area, and we made a quick stop to drive around the island. It was so weird. No gate guard, for one. Well, there was someone there, but I'm not really sure what his job was. BLDG 1, what used to be the Admin. building, and housed the Treasure Island museum (not to mention was featured as the Nazi airport in Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade - they hand-painted those Third Reich banners on the celluloid after-the-fact, as the Navy would not allow them to hang Nazi symbols on their building, of course) was completely empty. Well, except for a small SF police office, and the dozens of teenagers in formal wear streaming out of one of the doors.

Most of the houses were fenced off, with strange signs warning people to keep out. Someone was living in my old house. As we drove past, I looked at the trees out back and remembered all the times I'd sat up in those branches, just looking down on the world. Thinking about the time my kitty first started climbing the tree - poor thing, it took her a while to get the hang of it. She actually fell out of it a couple times at first. She was ok. :)

The old NEX was still there, though all boarded up and closed. The fields where we'd had carnivals set up multiple years in a row, were all occupied by tractor-trailers and mobiles.

The old elementary school, where I'd spent so much time rollerblading (I was homeschooled when we moved onto the island, so I'd never gone to school there) was completely dark. No lights on anywhere. The gym, where they filmed a scene from Copycat (and shut it down for a month to do so - which didn't go over too well with the residents) was shut up... and the theater where we'd had our town meetings after the earthquake, gone to USO shows, and seen countless movies... in complete disrepair.

A lot went on those years I lived there. Some good. A lot of bad. But I'll always remember it for what I loved about it. Driving around YBI and over the "pearly bridge" at night, all lit up and leading into one of the most beautiful skylines in the USA. (You know that typical "calendar shot" of the SF-side of the Bay Bridge, shot looking over it into SF? Yeah - that was shot from YBI. I saw that view every time we came home.) Seeing the Embarcadero buildings lit up at Christmastime, looking like huge harmonicas. Driving down the Avenue of the Palms, watching them sway in the ocean breeze blowing in through the Gate - I always said we had the most beautiful driveway in the world. Waking up to the fog so thick you couldn't see the light in your court, or even the wall of the house right outside your front door.

I could go on forever about memories I have of that place. :) Someday, maybe I'll write them all down - just so I can pass them on to my kids, and let them know what it was like before everything changed, and everyone left.

There's only one other person I still keep in touch with, outside my family, who lived there at the same time and watched it all happen. Our next-door neighbor on the island - even though she moved away long after we did (they couldn't kick everybody out at once ;) she only lives a few hours away from us now; so she comes up to visit every once in a while. :)

I know everything changes in life. Nothing can stay the same. But when you're a Navy brat, change is a constant. You're always moving, always making new friends and leaving the old. You don't get a chance to put down roots. You never know what's going to happen next, so you try to hold on to any steady thing you can. For me, as ironic as it seems, it was this flat patch of landfill out in the middle of the bay.

Wish I Could Be There With You...

For my husband:

This time it's a little harder than it usually is. This time, you're in my old stomping grounds, and I'm not there to share it with you. You floated in through the Gate, underneath that great golden bridge, and into the Bay where I spent some of the most formative years of my life. But I wasn't there to see it. You sailed right past my old home where I had so many different experiences - being in a major earthquake, watching my dad sail by on his way to sea and Somalia, and much more ... but today I wasn't there to wave as you passed.

And when you tied up at the pier, just a few streets down from my favorite place to go as a kid, I wasn't there to greet you.

Many others will get to see you; they will walk around with you inside your ship, see the inner workings of where you spend most of your waking hours, and learn about the day-to-day life of a Navy Sailor. But I won't be in the crowd listening to you speak.

I will be here at home, doing what I do. Loving you, praying for you, taking care of the kids and house, and waiting for you to come home. And wishing I could be there with you...

Sketchy

Sketchy
Originally uploaded by FlyButtafly

This was done at one of those "photobooths" at Chuck E. Cheese's. It's my hubby and me. (He's so hawt.)

I just had to share this old Chuck E. Cheese training video which Todd so kindly directed me to. Kinda scary, but interesting nonetheless. I have to imagine the approach is a little different nowadays.

Gone all Friends & Family

Yep, I've decided to completely turn all photos of my kids on flickr, to friends/family only. :( Unfortunately, hundreds of stolen-from-flickr photos of kids are showing up in various places 'round the net, most notably on Orkut (google's own social-networking site) and also on MySpace. I'm not as popular as some of the other people who've had photos stolen, but there's also some new to flickr who've had photos taken. The majority of my kids' photos have been f/f for a while now, mostly to protect them from viewing by less-than-savory people, but I've shared some of them with the public; not anymore. To be honest, I'd been considering it anyway. Some of them had showed up in Explore, and been extremely popular - and ended up being misused and reposted by people pulling them through the API. Even though I've had downloading turned off for non-contacts, and 3rd-party API searches turned off, direct feeds were still pulling them and occasionally I'd find them on some odd site I never heard of before. I got major crap from one person after I asked him to remove my photos and let him know he was violating many of the API's TOS, so from now on, I just share with those I trust. Sad, but what else can I do?