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Smile and make the rest of the world wonder…

I am trying to find a way to be very brave these days. I am being very honest when I say that this blackout time with Mike really stinks, and I hate it. I understand it, but I hate it. I think that bravery and humor often go hand in hand. Humor can be a very adaptive coping mechanism — provided the user is not addicted to comedy and has no ability to be serious when need be. I know that humor has helped me through more rough spots in life than all of the philosophy I studied as an undergrad.

I have a very serious and solemn side to me, but I also have a very comical side too. I really enjoy a good laugh (it is usually at my own expense), and I think a lot of things that happen in life are quite humorous. Retrospect often can put a humorous spin on something that may have felt very dire in the moment it actually happened. I do not think that humor is a good way to pull someone out of the dumps, necessarily. There are times when that solemnity and depth should be respected. Again, though, you don’t want to err and go to the dark side — the side that doesn’t know how to ever laugh at one’s own misfortunes.

If I took myself seriously all of the time I would be a mental breakdown looking for a place to happen. OK, I would be a BIGGER mental breakdown looking for a place to happen. Since I am a communicator by nature (yes I have been a blabbermouth since I could say “goo”) I often find humor in the things that are said around my house. Especially when said phrases are later taken out of context and used against me in the “court of home.” One such phrase has become embedded within the very vernacular of our family. You have to be from our home to understand it. If you are ever sitting in our home and you hear one of the guys utter the words “Claire (or mom) where’s your sunglasses?” You would need to know that I am notorious for frantically searching for my sunglasses whilst they sit a prop my head via headband style. Yes. I don’t even realize I am doing it. So, whenever I am frantically searching for anything within plain sight, do I get help? No, I get “the phrase!”

I could also tell you about the times that I have nearly maimed my dearly beloved, but maybe I shouldn’t. No, really it was always an accident. I swear! I have no depth perception. I am very intuitive, and so I function from my intuition. This means that if things change spatially speaking, I am very prone to accidents until I can internalize the change and work from that intuitive part of me. You can only imagine what happened to my husband after we got married. I went from being used to having all of the room in bed to having only half. Well it took a little while for my intuitive side to integrate that information, so there were times when I have head butted my husband to the point of nearly knocking him out. We were newly weds, so he always quickly forgave me. He would recoil quickly and writhe around in pain, all the while saying “No, no, honey I am alright… (sigh) I am alright.” Oh this depth perception issue has caused me many problems in life, and it definitely has contributed to my complete and utter void of any gracefulness. This is why I will NOT be dancing at the OCS graduation ball. Putting me in a long gown with high heels on should provide everyone with enough entertainment to last a lifetime. Make me dance, and my husband’s career may end abruptly due to serious injury. He has worked to hard to lose it all so quickly. I am usually a wallflower at dances. It’s either that or kiss the floor. I would rather be remembered for sitting elegantly.

I am sure that this military life will give us all ample supply of things to laugh about in the future. Many nights as a family we have sat around the living retelling our funny stories, and laughing. Maybe this Fall we can all have a night like that again. I have this blog now and it will help me remember the important things that happened while they guys were away… things like the mutant in the mailbox. I also wonder what life on a field artillery base will be like? I am sure I will adapt. I will certainly have my humor to take a long with me.

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Today…

I got Mike’s box in the mail today. He mailed if off some time ago, and we have had no contact since a couple of days before. It was nice to open it up and see traces of his presence there. I also got a memory card with pictures and a quick video. I am going to have to upload them and share them soon.

Next thing on my list of things to get done today is getting a new box ready to ship to him and one to Bryan. I don’t even know what I am going to put in them… other than the homemade ginger snaps that they love I am lost. I feel like I am in a rut and need to send something a little more fun and new. Hmm, if you have any suggestions, please add them!

I have really run face first into a brick wall this week. I have had headaches and just an overall sense of the blahs all week long. I know I am not sick, but I am very sleep deprived these days. I would give just about anything to be able to have more than just a few hours of sleep each night. I would love to sleep late one morning. Just once. Maybe Saturday the Pirate will sleep past 6 am. Oh, one can dream!

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Die Trommel gerühret!

It sounds like an incredible love story, doesn’t it? You know, boy meets girl, and then boy becomes a soldier. Boy and girl fall in love and then war sweeps him away from her and the safety of his land. Nothing can keep him home because he is a man of principle and is fighting for truth and liberty. This may sound like a romance novel you could pick up at your local bookstore, or perhaps it is a story you are living in real time. It is certainly not a story that has been untold. Please excuse this oversimplification of the complex story written by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe.

I wanted to introduce you all to, in my opinion, one of the most beautiful pieces of work ever composed in the German Romantic Era. One of my favorite recreations of this love story between a woman and her soldier is over 200 years old, and the music set to the Lieder written by Goethe was the creation of none other than Beethoven. His composition of Egmont stirs your soul and leaves you sitting on the edge of your chair, fighting with Egmont as he struggles for liberty. I have always loved the overture, but the incidental music that Beethoven set to Goethe’s writings are breathtaking. Of course the militaristic theme and music take on a more personal meaning for me now, and that is what brought this passion of mine back up to the surface.

I do not subscribe to a haphazard postmodern view of the Arts. I do not believe that all art is purely subjective and that art exists only within the eye of the artist or the beholder. Form, style, technique and purpose do count. Of course there is always the element of the human experience. This is where the room for the subjective is, and art is a wonderful medium to explore those experiences through the imagination. When art is divorced from its form and function it loses a dimension of commonality and a space of shared reality. I personally can not stare at a rusted tin can filled with urine that is placed on display and called “art,” and lose myself in my imagination. No, that is just not me! Give me El Greco, Delacroix, Wagner, Mahler, anyone who understands his art and the medium in which he practices! This is one reason why I adore Beethoven. He is known for bridging the space of time between the Romantics and the Classical eras. His form was tight and precise, but his music conveyed an empathetic emotion that is accessible to anyone — you do not need to understand theory in order to appreciate him.

I had a very rare opportunity to study classical voice (Bel Canto) under an incredible teacher from Great Britain who was licensed through the London Royal Academy of Music. She lived here in the states with her husband who was working as a professor on a college exchange program. They later became citizens. I studied under her privately for several years in my early 20s. Before hanging up my sheet music a little more than 6 years ago, I was working on two pieces of music to perform at various recitals. They are both complex and were arias that I could not even think of approaching in the first two years of study. I will tell you about one of them today, and the other later in the Winter.

One of the two songs I was working on is a lieder with text lifted from Goethe’s rendition of Egmont’s story. A good and quick summary for Egmont was found in a music blog I visited recently. Essentially, Egmont was fighting for his freedom, and in the story there are many characters around him that look vaguely familiar in this day and age. Egmont died fighting for what he believed in.

In his drama Egmont, Goethe (1787) relates the fight of Count Egmont (1522-1568) against the despotic Duke of Albe. Egmont is a famous Flemish warrior and the duc of Albe represents the Spanish invader. Though under threat of arrest Egmont refuses to run away and give up his ideal of liberty. Imprisoned and abandoned because of the cowardliness of his people and despite the desperate efforts of his mistress Klärchen he is sentenced to death.

Thus, faced with her failure and despair Klärchen puts an end to her life. The play ends on the hero’s last call to fight for independence. His death as a martyr appears as a victory against oppression.

There are a couple of different composers who put this particular work of Goethe’s to music, but Beethoven’s composition is my favorite. The character in the story who sings the lieder I was working on is “Klarchen” or “Clare.” Fitting isn’t it? Clare sings a very strong and emotionally charged aria titled Die Trommel gerühret! In this song Clare shows her love for Egmont and her deep desire to be with him always. She wants to be with him so badly that she is prepared to beat a drum, put on the uniform (or pants), and follow him into battle! Clare is younger when this aria is sung. The story, being true to its form as a tragedy, affords Egmont a sure death and Clare a suicide. Of course it all happens with much singing and in a very, very romantic way — if only real life were so neat and clean!

Clare, as a young girl is taken with Egmont and the military. She is actually jealous of the men who get to follow Egmont into battle! This made Clare a larger than life heroin at the time Goethe penned her character. A woman in the military was unheard of — no, it was sacrilege in that day, and a woman as openly brave and bold as Clare was something for the imagination only. Goethe used his art to pen a woman who really does embody the courage, strength, dedication and determination that I see in a lot of military wives today! I am sure that Goethe was taking the characteristics he had witnessed or heard of in women who lived around him that day. He just put them in a less than common situation.

Goethe’s lieder coupled with Beethoven’s incredible ability to communicate emotions and ambiance through music, makes this a very powerful and poignant aria. When you listen to it (and always better yet to hear it performed live!) you can feel the passion and almost hear the marching of soldiers’ feet! You can also hear Clare’s desperation .

Below is the original German text with an English translation. It is not my favorite translation of the song, but my liner notes and sheet music are all packed away for now, so an alternative is not possible right now. You will get the general idea of the song though. I did link you to a performance of the song, and it is by far one of the most brilliant performances around of this particular lieder (in my opinion anyway).

Die Trommel gerühret

Language: GERMAN

Die Trommel gerühret,Das Pfeifchen gespielt!
Mein Liebster gewaffnetDem Haufen befiehlt,
Die Lanze hoch führet,Die Leute regieret.
Wie klopft mir das Herz!Wie wallt mir das Blut!
O hätt' ich ein WämsleinUnd Hosen und Hut!

Ich folgt' ihm zum Tor 'nausmit mutigem Schritt,
Ging' durch die Provinzen,ging' überall mit.
Die Feinde schon weichen,Wir schiessen da drein;
Welch' Glück sondergleichen,Ein Mannsbild zu sein!

Bang the drum!

Language: ENGLISH

Bang the drum, play the fife! My love is armed for war and commands his host;
he holds the lances high and commands his men.
How my heart pounds!How my blood races!
O if only I had a doublet,and breeches and helm!

I would follow him through the gate with courageous step,
and march through the provinces,march everywhere with him.
The enemy has grown weak,we fire at them;
what happiness without equal to be a man!
Translation from German to English by Emily Ezust

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Inside a Wartime Reunion

I wanted to share an article here that I read first at GoArmyParents. I love reading stories of homecoming and safe returns. Enjoy!


‘Living In America’
Our correspondent recounts the anxiety, fatigue and joy of having a loved one return from war.
By Allison Samuels
Newsweek
Aug 17, 2007

(excerpt)

Aug. 17, 2007 - On any normal day, Killeen, Texas, is not the place to be. It’s a palm-size city near Austin where the Target store on the main strip is the big hangout. But this past week, Killeen—home of Ft. Hood Army base, was the best place to be for my family and me: my little cousin Alexia, 24, came home from Iraq.

It’s hard to explain the joy of having a loved one return safe and sound from the battlefield. Every day they are away seems to bring more news of death in a faraway land, and you hold your breath, praying that she or he hasn’t become a statistic. You learn to rejoice over the little things: the phone calls and e-mails from Baghdad that come in the middle of the night, thanking you for the most recent care package. When you learn your family member is coming home, you count the days, praying that fate doesn’t intervene and make real the fears you’ve conjured in your head (a sniper’s bullet? an IED?). And when your loved one finally sets foot on American soil, it’s as if you can breathe once more.

(Snip)

On Aug. 5, aunts, uncles, cousins and any number of other family members made their way to Ft. Hood’s high-school-size gymnasium, where we sat on bleachers next to hundreds of other grandmothers, aunts, wives and kids waiting to see their loved ones. When the parade of young and tired-looking men and women from Unit 4 CMMC 13th came walking through the gym doors to the beat of James Brown’s “Living in America,” the screams were gleeful and deafening. Children danced on the gym floor, and wives, mothers and husbands gave hugs that seemed to never end.

(snip)

That night was a family reunion of sorts. Alexia—after two long showers—delighted us until 4 in the morning with an impromptu fashion show of all the clothes she’d purchased online. But there were no stories of war that night—only happy tales of boyfriends, eating at Red Lobster and outlet-mall shopping to be done here in the States. As the sun began to rise, we all retired to our hotel rooms while Alexia’s mother stood watch over her eldest daughter to make sure she slept soundly on her first night home. After a third shower, she finally did.

Read full article HERE

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Our guns went from big…

Picture of Mike in battle rattle with his best friend.
And, I thought that was a big gun!

… to even bigger! Bryan was branched this past Friday and he wound up in Field Artillery. We were both scratching our heads over that one! Considering his background in chemistry, I think we both had figured that he would wind up in a laboratory somewhere. Don’t get me wrong. Neither of us are complaining! We both knew when we made this decision that the Army would put him where they needed him the most, and he is dedicated to doing the best job he can do where ever he is placed.

It will be a new experience for him, and he will bring a high level of professionalism and conscientious work with him to Field Artillery — as well as an open mind. He will be learning a lot of new information and expanding his own skills and knowledge base. I am excited for him because I know my husband loves a good challenge and he loves to learn. Besides he gets to be around a bunch of massive guns all the time.


See, the guns just keep getting bigger and bigger.
I wonder what living on an Artillery base is going to sound like!

Ft. Sill (OK) is the home of the Field Artillery, and is where we will be heading to eventually. It will be a little while before we are ready to PCS there, but it seems as though that is where our home is headed. Now I need to start getting the family ready, and I need to know what in the world Oklahoma is like in the various seasons. Who knows where Field Artillery will take us after BOLC II and III? Only the Army knows - and they never give away a good secret!

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It’s the small things in life

While facing the challenges and major life stresses on the home front when deployment occurs, I am finding my love and appreciation for the small things in life is being rekindled. I guess we all go through these seasons in our lives; when our awareness is brought to a level that melts away the hardened propensity to look over and step on the aromatic real flower at our feet in pursuit of the elusive plastic bouquet that is forever dangled in front of our face. How many times have I overlooked the beauty of the tiniest of things because of my own busyness? Too many times for me to even count I am sure. It still happens too, but to a lesser degree today.

Phone calls are a small piece of paradise for me right now. When Bryan was in Reception and BCT we only got to talk once in the 11 week time. So, we learned to connect through the written word. It is a blessing to have those letters that we sent back and forth. They often expressed a deep love for one another, and a deep commitment to the Army - a commitment we both made even though only one us was sworn in. Now we get to talk on a regular basis, and I am working hard to not forget the blessings that I had in those days when the mailbox was my only link to my beloved. This morning he is headed out to the field for a week. They are practicing land navigation techniques. Before he left he sent me a text message on my phone. He never uses text messaging, but this morning he did. “we are heading out. talk to you next week. love you.” Simple? Yes, but more meaningful than 100 movie dates.

Mail will be my primary way to send encouragement, love, support and morale to Mike in the months to come. Our phone contact will be extremely limited and computer time even more so. So, with this new challenge comes more opportunities to recapture that love and appreciation for the small things. I am waiting for a box that he sent out before he was moved. It has two suits in it. Two suits that he and a friend had made by an Iraqi tailor. I was asked to care for them while they are deployed. They were made for his friend’s wedding that is planned when they return. I want to cry when I think of opening that box. It will be filled with such huge hopes for the future, and it will be mixed with the sand that stings the faces of our soldiers — the sand that irritates them when it gets captured in their boots. The box will contain with in its cardboard walls a message to me that says “Mom, care for my suit because I AM coming home and I am going to carry on with my life when I am done fighting.” He doesn’t even know how much he said when he excitedly told me of the box that is in shipment to our home. Thank you honey. I will take good care of your suit until you come home. You focus ahead, keep up the good work and stay safe. I will take care of the rest.

Last night while I was putting the Pirate to bed, she kept asking for “more kisses!” I had a hard time leaving her room because she always needed one more. I stopped, paused at her door, and remembered that one day she will not need the extra kisses, so tonight was the night to indulge her girly giggles, and my need to lavish some affection on her. I gave her many kisses from me, many from her papa, and many from her brother. She told her papa the other night on the phone that she is a “baby soldier.” She would follow her papa anywhere, and so would I. Thank you Emma for reminding me that we are both soldiers in our own right, and that while we remain at home we too will fight the good fight and keep things in order.

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Wounded Warrior Care Package

Move America Forward will be delivering Wounded Warrior Care Packages to wounded service men and women at Walter Reed Medical Center on the last leg of their “Fight for Victory Tour.” The tour is taking place September 3-15th, and they will have their finale visiting and delivering care packages to our wounded heroes at Walter Reed.

If you can meet up with Susan Johns and team, please do. For those of you who don’t know Susan Johns, her son is a brave Marine who has completed 3 tours in Iraq, and stands ready for a fourth. I made it to a rally in Charlotte, NC that Susan organized back at the beginning of the year. Move America Forward sponsored the caravan as they drove from California to Washington DC to show support our military and our Veterans at the Gathering of Eagles event. It is well worth the drive to meet them at a check in point. There are usually a lot of Veterans around these events, so be prepared to say “thank you!” a lot!

If you are not able to make it for any of the tour, then please consider sponsoring one of these care packages for our wounded heroes. There is a personalized note that will be put with the box you sponsor that will let the soldier know you sponsored his box, and that you appreciate his sacrifice!

Here’s some info on the boxes:

Each “Wounded Warrior” package will include a note of thanks/appreciation, premium “House of Jerky” beef jerky, deluxe shortbread cookies imprinted with the insignias of the various branches of the U.S. military, an assortment of candy bars, “Heck if it Were Easy France Could Do It!” camouflaged handkerchiefs, Puzzle Books, and Flag Pins. Click HERE to sponsor a box today!

For the caravan route and schedule of events for the “Fight for Victory Tour” please go to Move America Forward’s homepage here.

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I hope cookies will suffice

I hope Mike likes his cookies because I am not learning how to do some wild stunt in a Stryker to salute him. I love him more than life itself, but cookies will just have to do!
(hat tip RN)

Aug 18, 12:10 PM EDT
Airman to Get Skydive Salute From Mom

(excerpt)

THOMAS TOWNSHIP, Mich. (AP) — Tina Peters wanted to do something special as a salute to her son’s service to his country as he heads back to Iraq for a second tour - so she’s going to jump out of an airplane.

The thing is, the 57-year-old woman has never done that before.

“My mom’s crazy,” said Air Force Staff Sgt. Jason Peters, 31. “I’ll be sitting back with the insurance agent, watching.”

His older brother, Ray Peters, 32, plans to skydive with their mother Sunday in a “Jumping for Jason” event at Browne Airport in Saginaw County.

Tina Peters said she wasn’t nervous about the jump.

“One of us will scream like a little girl, and it’s not gonna be me,” she told The Saginaw News.

Click HERE for more

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Saturday mornings

I have always loved Saturday mornings. Even as a kid I remember getting up really early. My brother and I usually had some early morning cartoon watching to do. We would get up, eat a bowl of cereal and then cozy in for the Saturday morning shows. It was the only morning where we could just veg out and watch several of our favorite cartoons, one after the other. Ah, those were the days!

When Bryan was still home, Saturday mornings were always a nice time. Most Saturday mornings he would get up early and shut the baby monitor off in the bedroom. He would make coffee, breakfast and then get the baby when she woke up. I would come stumbling out of the room about an hour later. That extra hour or so always made the morning a little nicer. After coffee and a little breakfast we would sit in the floor with Emma and play a little, read a magazine or paper, and listen to Car Talk.

It was always a nice and slow morning. Some mornings I would get up early and sneak off to the Farmer’s Market or to the grocery store before the crowds would get there. I guess I have always loved Saturday mornings because of the freedom to relax and do things at a slow pace. Nowhere to go in particular and no one to see . Of course it does not hold the joy that a Sunday morning holds for me, but I still love my Saturday mornings.

It’s now 9:30 am where I live, and I know that Mr. Hooah! has already been up for around 5 hours. He has already run errands on base to get supplies for next weeks exercises, had chow and formation. He should either have a pass or he will get one after his briefing. This is a typical Saturday morning for him now. I don’t even know exactly where my son is at this moment. It is now Saturday 1730 there. His Saturday morning has come and gone. I hope he had a good Saturday and is settling into the new location.

As for the pirate and myself, who knows what we will get into today. I think we may go out to the Farmer’s Market and hit the library. Basically, it has been a slow morning, and that has left me longing for my guys today. I am looking forward to Fall more than I can even express, and I am holding onto the hope that right before Winter sets in I will have four combat boots, and two berets in the closet, and two soldiers sitting on the floor playing with the princess. I won’t be sleeping in on those mornings. I will be too busy taking mental pictures with my eyes. Pictures and video clips to hold in my mind and heart, so that when the pending re-separation happens I will have those memories to encourage me.

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It’s not a mutant — It’s SHELOB!

Update: Shelob was sent to the big web in the sky — and is no longer in my mailbox!

**WARNING** Icky and scary spider picture below.

Last night Nate and Pappy went down to see the “freak in the box.” It IS a spider. This might be a good time for me to mention that I have a pretty bad case of arachnophobia. I am serious. I was raised in the Southern part of Arizona, so I knew as a very little girl that spiders are dangerous. We had black widows everywhere, so I learned young to hate spiders… no, loathe them beyond a rational state. They are despicable!

I have been known to use extreme measures to kill them too. When I see one I kill it because if I don’t then I never know where it may show up next. I once killed a black widow with a hammer (remember that mom!) I also threw a huge bag of potatoes on a wolf spider. It didn’t stand a chance. That’ll teach him for walking across my kitchen floor. I should chalk their little bodies and leave the outlines there as a warning to other spiders. Not a bad idea!

You will have to excuse the drama, embellishments and the crazy talk. I have to make the spiders seem larger than life, so that I don’t feel so silly for being afraid of something that I can crush with a shoe.

Here she is all big, creepy and spidery. My nemesis! (and if anyone can identify this thing please let me know what it is! It scurries people! It scurries and growls. I swear. I think I saw a “squatter’s rights!” sign in the back of the box today.) The picture is blurry, but Nate did the best he could do given the location of the beast.:

WHAT IS IT???


This thing is HUGE! I am going to get a nuclear, er, I mean Black Flag bomb and set it off tonight in the box. I don’t think I am exaggerating when I say that this is a pretty darned big spider though. It is big and it scurries (did I mention that?).

Bryan, if you see this blog entry you know it’s a miracle that I have not run the mailbox over with the van already. I even posted the picture myself without throwing the laptop through the window. I need flowers.

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