On-Post Parking

I don't think I've ever had my own special parking space before. At the commissary, there are the handicap parking spaces, the expectant mothers and mothers with toddlers spaces, and then these.

These are as good as the generals' parking spaces. It's nice to feel appreciated every once in a while :-)

I'm Practically a Canadian

I've come to realize that people don't know how close to Canada I really am. When I say I'm just across the border, people either downplay it or are genuinely surprised. So I would like to clarify where, exactly, I am. I took this picture not long ago across the street from Cracker Barrel where I eat lunch nearly every Sunday.

"Man, lunch was really good today"

"Yeah it was. Hey, do you have any plans for the afternoon?"

"Nope. You want to run up to Canada?"

"Sure."

I can't say that I've done it because, apparently, nobody else has a passport. And why would I want to go to Canada by myself?

Flowers

Sunday afternoon was just beautiful here. It was still chilly enough to need a jacket, but I couldn't have asked for nicer weather for this time of year in New York. I drove all over Watertown taking pictures in the park and by the river, but my favorite ones were actually of some tulips growing by the side of the road near my apartment. I'm sure the people who live there were wondering what I was doing lying in the grass on the side of the road, but nobody said anything to me. Here are a few of the pictures.

The first one is my favorite.

I'll post about the rest of my picture-taking excursion a little later on.

Things about New York

**Blogger's Confession: I wrote this post back in March, so some of the details have changed. Daffodils have, in fact, bloomed. My point remains valid that they weren't in bloom in March, though. And I scammed some pictures off the internet. I'm a bad photoblogger :-( Also, for the sake of this post, I'm including Texas and Florida in "The South." If you've ever had this debate with me, you know that I generally consider Texas more Southwestern than Southeastern and Florida is its own thing, but they still apply toward proving my point in this case.**

Before we moved, I had no idea what to expect once we got to New York. Would I recognize the plants and birds they have? Could I find a normal burger joint anywhere? Would I even be able to understand their accent? As it turns out, New Yorkers aren't TERRIBLY different from Southerners. I don't mean they're the same, by any means. I'm just saying it isn't like I up and moved to Kyrgyzstan (which, as it happens, is the stopping off point before Nathan gets to Afghanistan).

Here are a few things I didn't expect to find...

1. Seagulls.

Yep. Seagulls. I'm assuming they're here for Lake Ontario, but I never would have guessed. What I want to know is how the seagull leaders decide who gets to go to Destin and who gets stuck at Lake Ontario. I'm just saying somebody is getting seriously gypped.

2. Sweet Tea.

I guess I really did expect I would be in a whole other country. We got lucky, though. They have sweet tea at Cracker Barrel, Buffalo Wild Wings, Bob Evans, in the food court at the PX (post exchange - see this post for more Army nonsense), and a local place called Shorty's Diner. And, of course, I make sweet tea at home and drink it pretty much all the time there. And yes, I do have the complete unabridged list of what restaurants serve sweet tea memorized.

3. Lack of Daffodils.

So this isn't really a "thing" that we found. It's just that everywhere I've ever lived has had daffodils blooming by mid-March. I find myself wondering if anything ever blooms here, though.

4. Big trucks.

I really thought Nathan's truck would stand out more here, but I see a lot of trucks that look like his. I forget not all New Yorkers are city-types.

5. Other Southerners.

I really should have realized that I wouldn't be the only transplant. Karin and Sarah are both from Texas, my friend Becky from church is from Arkansas, and Shannon (Congratulations, Mrs. Walker!!!) is from Florida (and went to Mississippi State). I guess what surprises me more is that I actually don't know any locals. Everybody I know is here because of the Army.

So that's my quick run-down of what I hadn't expected. I promise I've got more blog posts in the works and it won't be this long before I post again. See you next time!

What's the Sweetest Letter You Ever Received?

I think one I got today easily made my top three.

A few weeks ago, I wrote to my seven-year-old nephew, Drew, in Tennessee about what things were like here in New York. I told him about all of our snow and about the giant snowman. I got his response today. He wrote it all himself and even added stickers because he wanted it to be pretty for me. He said,

Shellaine, :-)

Sorry that it took me so long to write back.

I'm sorry Nathan had to leave you. :-( I also hope you get to come back for your birthday. What are you doing at home when Nathan is gone? Is there more snow!? I know you're going through tough times, so that's why I'm writeing to tell you I (heart sticker) you.

Love (heart sticker) - Drew

Now, is that not one of the most precious things you've ever read?

New Friends ...and Harsh Reality

I want to introduce you to my first new friends in New York. Karin is on the left and Sarah is on the right (with the fur hood).

They are both lieutenants in the same area as Nathan - medical service, the support system behind the doctors, dentists, physical therapists, etc. They also both spent the same six weeks at Fort Sam Houston in San Antonio that Nathan did, so he knew them before we all moved here. So far, we've made a few shopping trips to Syracuse and we have a Sunday lunch tradition at Cracker Barrel. Nathan and I got our apartment first, so for a while I cooked for the group of us. Now that Nathan has deployed, they've had me over for dinner a few times. It's good fun :-) They also have a great apartment in the Village of Sackets Harbor overlooking Lake Ontario. I'm sure I'll talk about that again.

You may think that this was a weekend ski trip to some far-away place. *Sigh* No such luck. All of that snow could be found five minutes from my apartment. That day, there were huge wet snowflakes falling, and I hadn't worn a hat. It was freezing. My hands went numb several times. I once again realized that we're not in Kans - *ahem* Mississippi - anymore...

Thanks for sharing the picture, Karin!

Sisterhood

Emblem of 1st Brigade Combat Team, 10th Mountain Division

Today was the first time I met the other spouses of the 1st Brigade Headquarters officers. I guess officially it's named the "Officers' Spouses' Club", but realistically it's the old-school Officers' Wives' Club. I'm sure there are men who could be included and would be welcomed, but what man really wants to go to brunch with 25 married women? All the ladies were very welcoming and were happy to explain to the newbies what was going on. Being new to all this, I can already see how all the wives support each other - especially during deployments. I received no less than three personal invitations to different women's houses for coffee, a shoulder to cry on, or whatever else I needed. The brigade commander's wife (REALLY important woman - she heads up the family support for the 3900 soldiers in the brigade) gave each of us a poem called "Sisterhood." I can't find the author's name, but I'd like to share it with you.

"Sisterhood"

I am an Army wife - a member of that Sisterhood of women who have had the courage to watch their men march into battle and the strength to survive until their return. Our sorority knows no rank for we earn our membership with a marriage license traveling over miles or over nations to begin a new life with our soldier husbands. Within days we can turn a barren, echoing building into a home, and though our quarters are inevitably white walled and unpapered, we decorate with the treasures of our travels for we shop the markets of the globe. Using hammer and nail, we tack our pictures to the wall and our roots to the floor as firmly as if we had lived there for a lifetime. We hold a family together by the bootstraps and raise the best of brats, instilling into them the motto, Home is Togetherness, whether motel or guest house, apartment or duplex.

As Army wives we soon realize that the only good in Good-Bye is the Hello again. For as salesmen for freedom our husbands are often on the road leaving us behind for a week, a month, an assignment. During the separation we guard the home fort existing till the homecoming. Unlike our civilian counterparts, we measure time not by age but by Tours - married at Knox, a baby born at Bliss, a promotion in Missouri. We plant trees and never see them grow tall. Work on projects that are completed long after our departure and enhance our community for the betterment of those who come after us. We leave a part of ourselves at every stop.

Through experience we have learned to pack a suitcase, a car, or "Hold Baggage" and live indefinitely from the contents within and though our fingers are sore from the patches we have sewn and the silver we have shined - our hands are always ready to help those around us.

Women of Peace, we pray for a world in harmony, for the flag that leads our men into battle will also blanket them in death. Yet we are an optimistic group, thinking about the good and forgetting the bad, cherishing yesterday while anticipating tomorrow. Never rich by monetary standards, our hearts are overflowing with a wealth of experiences common among those united by the special tradition of military life. We pass on this legacy to every Army bride, welcoming her with outstretched arms and love and friendship from one Sister to another, sharing in the bounty of our unique fulfilling Army way of life.