The Beav according to Beav

Still crazy after all these years.

Friday, February 26, 2010

On the Road Again...

For those that may be interested (or in the area), I will be in San Antonio Texas for the 1st week of March. Let me know if you're near and want to grab dinner or something.


Monday, February 15, 2010

I < 3 U

Valentine's Day came and went. I surprised Saundra by ordering something (though it hasn't arrived yet), so she went and one-upped me yet again, ordering for me the 5 cookbooks that Alton Brown says you must own. Even though she ordered days after I did, 3 of the 5 have arrived already, while her present wallows somewhere in the USPS.

Anyway, the boys had a good time on Friday - giving and receiving cards. When Saundra came home from work on Sunday, she brought them little heart-shaped tins with candy. She also brought me yet another gift - a stuffed frog holding a heart that reads "Love You."

All my love to all of you.

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Friday, February 05, 2010

More stuff of newness

So, it's been an interesting couple of weeks. We here in Southern Virginia got snow of the type that only hits here once every few years. And we're likely to get more tonight/tomorrow. That's almost unheard of here.

There was some concern about my Master Sergeant stripe. After breaking my foot, I had a PT test. The waiver I got from the doctor (because of my foot and for the recovery) said I couldn't do any PT, but that means I get tested on my waist measurement alone - a guarantee of failure. After the failure, I am informed that 1) I can't sew on my stripe with a failed PT test, 2) my upcoming EPR will be a 4 (of 5) at best with a failed PT test, and 3) I can write a note saying that I want to ignore parts of my waiver if I don't do myself bodily harm.

So, I write my little memo, work hard to ensure that my push-ups and sit-ups are up and good. My promotion is supposed to be at 9 AM on Monday, Feb 1st. The very first day I am allowed to test is Friday, Jan 29th. My EPR is due Monday, Feb 15th. With a lot riding on it, I test on Friday morning and crush it. Not only did I easily max out my push-ups and sit-ups, but with the PT I was doing (screw the waiver), I lost an entire inch on my waist. So, I'm good to promote on time. (Whew!)

The very next day commences the freak snowfall I mentioned all the way back in paragraph 1. Though you may scoff in Denver, this snowfall shuts down everything for the entire weekend. Ryan's school didn't open until Thursday. So, Sunday night, I get a call from my boss saying to show up at 10 on Monday and in ABUs (cammies) instead of Blues (service uniform). Now, the week prior, knowing that Monday is blues day, I realized that I wouldn't need stripes on my ABUs until Tuesday, so I picked up my new blues on Friday and wasn't scheduled to pick up the ABUs until Monday evening. This new iteration from the snow is a double whammy for me. Not only does it mean that I'm showing for work an hour after my ceremony, but in a uniform without proper stripes!

We decide to play it by ear on the time (which then turned out to be "delay until tomorrow"), and I'd stop by alterations and beg them to do them a few hours early..."like right now?"

Everything worked all right, and I spent a lot of time at home with the kids (due to the aforementioned school closure), but it was a really wierd week.

Oh, and Tristan made me sad and proud the other night. I was cooking some chicken stroganov for dinner, and he wanted to help. I let him stand on a chair nearby and was gonna have him do some pouring and whatnot when the time came. Unfortunately, shortly after I moved the wok with oil on the bottom (for searing the chicken pieces), he decided to check the oil temp...with his finger. Too fast for me to react, he burned his finger nicely. We got it under running water, got a cup of ice water for him to rest it in, and Saundra tried to get him settled on the couch. He got very upset and insisted that he still wanted to help me cook. I had to fight off the proud-papa "he's gonna be a chef" syndrome, but continued to be proud of my brave boy.

I think that's it for this installment of Musty Piece Theater. Tune in next time for more...uh...frenzied recitation of a bizarrely normal life? (And don't forget to Save the Babies!)

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