Picasso & Me

Living alone when you normally do not live alone is painfully boring. Since James deployed, all I have is Picasso. I mean, really, all I have is this little white dog!

And he's a terrible conversationalist. All he does is want me to throw his toys-- that something he used to only ask James to do. And I most certainly do mean the term ask. Picasso drops his toy on your lap or shoulder and if you ignore it, he repositions it, steps back and stares at you. Like you hadn't noticed the toy soaked with saliva 3 inches from your face. And if you totally refuse to throw it, he chews on it in your lap until you're so disgusted you just throw the toy.

 

Since James is the law in the house, Picasso has lost his mind since he's gone. Picasso no longer thinks he needs to be in his kennel at night. He hides from me when it's bedtime. And if I catch him off guard for bedtime, he looks reluctant and embarrassed. He won't make eye contact with me and I have to shove him into his kennel.

 

It's just Picasso and me for the next 9 months. It's boring. And lonely. But I don't know what I'd do if I didn't at least have my dog.

Short Deployment

James deployed to Afghanistan yesterday. It's a short deployment (just 9 months).

 

 

Even though it's short, it's still James being 9 times zones ahead of me in one of the crappiest and most dangerous parts of the world.

 

Even though it's short, it was incredibly sad to have to say good bye. Especially with all the other Soldier's wives and children crying all around us.

 

Even though it's short, I'm still here alone, wishing I was there fighting the good fight with him.

 

 

Even though it's short, I'm counting down the days until he comes home. Picasso and I miss you, Babe, be safe!!

 

The Black Napkin

James and I went to a fancy steak house in Nashville for dinner tonight called Flemings. We wanted to go out for a stupid expensive meal one last time before he deploys to Afghanistan later this month.

Our previous fine dining experience at Morton's in St. Louis made us wary of strange questions that may be asked of us. I was ready to be asked what kind of water I wanted (our waiter assumed we wanted simple tap water this time). What I was not prepared for was the question the hostess asked us:

"Would you prefer a black napkin?"

I looked at my white napkin that was nicely folded on the table. Then I looked back at her blankly... then I declined, though I wasn't entirely sure why I declined. It just felt like it was the right choice for me.

 

I googled the black napkin option when I got home this evening and it turns out its offered to people who have dark pants on so the pesky white lint on an ordinary white napkin doesn't disburse all over their pants.

Anyhow, we were more educated in fine dining this time, so the napkin was the only curve ball. We had lovely steak dinners and red wine. Flemings comped James' meal since he's deploying (that was a free $50 steak!) and they gave us a free chocolate lava cake desert. How nice of Flemings!

Living in a military town makes you not very special, so when you venture out, and suddenly become special because of military service, sometimes you get free stuff. And you get thanked frequently.

Free steak is always welcome.

 

....I'm not fancy enough to need a black napkin.

ITLS

I'm taking an ITLS class (International Trauma Life Support) in Hawesville, Kentucky. I had never visited redneck Kentucky before now. Its spectacular.

Hawesville is actually so small that you have to leave the town to go to any establishments that may sell something. You have to cross the river and go to Tell City, Indiana. Tell City is the "big city". That means it has a Walmart.

Road construction in Tell City created a detour through the downtown area. These are the signs posted:
 

 

Literally, it's written in finger paint. It actually looked like blood, but I'll give Tell City the benefit of the doubt and call it finger paint. Downtown also had a line dancing hall and a pawn shop. That summed up Tell City's downtown in a nut shell.

I'm glad I was afforded the opportunity to venture into small town Kentucky to go to this class. It's been eye opening-- and made it apparent that Clarksville, Tennessee isn't nearly as redneck as I originally believed it to be. At least our road construction is legit.