Look at us

Gently bearing this fragile thing, stretched thin over many landscapes,

Pulled along by this fierce thing through rough waters and turbulent skies.

I Iay here alone
Picture you hurtling through the night sky
thousands of miles from me
And further yet
It will be days before you return. So many that it is too soon to begin counting down.
For now I just get through them.

It challenges even the most cheerful, this life.
There are those who would wonder if the glass is half full
or half empty
If we were to take it on mere majority, the answer would be clear

Which portion of my world is real life, Which fantasy?
The days that stretch long without you?
Where I wake and wander alone, Leave the same quiet house that welcomes me home at night,
Open a bottle of wine that lasts for days before being emptied into the drain.
Or the days so full of you that I burn both ends,
Grow dark circles happily For want of a full night of sleep,
Open my eyes at dawn to see you watching me
and turn into your arms to capture a few last moments of comfort.

Which is more true?
This life we build on-screen,
over vast distance,
awaiting a text,
tracking your flight,
video calls,
the way your Lips loom in as they approach my screen

Or is this a mere holding pattern? YOU, circling, circling, circling. Biding time.
ME spinning too.
Dizzy with longing.
Awaiting your approach.
Awaiting the rush and speed and roar
followed by a gentle settling to the ground.
Then, when you are finally here, I am grounded.
Certain and steady.
Is that more true then?

Destination Unknown

So much to love about this picture. 

Tonight I spoke to Rob via video chat from Germany. It was 3 a.m. there. Though he leaves me for weeks on end to deal alone with these doggos who are never so well-behaved for me, at least his job doesn't mean weeks on end of radio-silence. Not sure if I could have managed my end of this deal in an earlier era. He will spend the next 2 weeks zigzagging across the globe... Back to the states, and Germany and Dubai and Shanghai (I think?). His destination may truly be unknown, but we are both grateful for the technology that helps keep us connected. 

It's a good thing I love Power Tools

Central Park Transfer House, Decatur, IL

One of my favorite summer jobs from my college years was working for the Streets and Sewers department in Decatur. I was assigned to Central Park, a lovely green space in the small downtown area that featured a fountain, walking paths and park benches. I was charged with maintaining the greenspace and oddly enough was required to spend 40 hours a week in the park. Let me just say, it was far more time than was required to upkeep that tiny park space.

It was at that summer job that I first learned to use and love power tools. All the tools! Mowers, weed-eaters, hedge-trimmers. Willie, an ancient Streets and Sewers employee, was charged with dropping me off at the park each morning and picking me up each afternoon. He is the one who taught me how to use the power tools. I am filled with so many fond memories of that summer. Thank you, Willie! I couldn't be the independent pilot-wife that I am today, without the skills I gained that summer. 

So, it was super windy here, yesterday. And This happened: nearly half the tree split off. 

I initially tried to drag it out of the driveway to buy some time, and possibly the chance that I'd have help with cleaning it up. But, it was far too heavy for me to even budge it. And, Rob is in Shanghai and not due back for days. So, of course, I demonstrated, once again what it means to be a pilot-wife. 

I went after it with a chain-saw. 

Life is good. As you can see from the photo, my lawn needs attention. That will wait for another day. 

Living on opposite sides of the clock

My Google Search history is riddled with the query. What time is it in.....fill in the blank.
Rob spent Christmas in Shanghai, New Years in Hong Kong and over-nighted in a variety of European and Asian cities in between.

This month it's been New Delhi, Hahn, Germany and Latvia. He's in the middle of a 17 day trip and this is the text I got from him the other day: 

Unacceptable. Ha. Because you just do. Accept it. 

Every step along the way to where he is now in his career, I have dreaded the anticipated changes and struggled in the early days of learning some "new normal" for us. But, here we are living via video-chat, and doing ok. 

He's missed some major holidays and won't be home for me to pamper him on Father's Day. But he'll make it home on our anniversary. Until then, we live on opposite sides of the clock: I stay up late to say "good morning" to him or wake up to a message that came through at 2 a.m. saying "getting ready to take-off". Sometimes that means that it will be 5 p.m. my time before he lands and can be in touch. As much as I miss him and struggle with the reality of his job: I know it is harder for him. Long days, interminable jet lag, boring 3-day lay-overs in the middle of nowhere. 

Sometimes he is lucky and there are other crew members in the same hotel. Other times, he is wandering around New Delhi looking for a late dinner by himself, trying not to look lost while actually being just a little bit lost. Those stories are shared after the fact and I try to pretend that things like that never happen. I actively try not to worry. 

He sends pictures of his exotic meals, interesting architecture, and smog. I send pictures of the garden, his dog and myself. What would this life be like if we didn't have the technology available to communicate instantly as we do?  Though I am glued to my phone more now than I was while "on call", it is something to be grateful for. 

Still, he is far away. Getting home from where he is now would mean flying straight north until he passed over the top of the globe and began heading south. It's a lot of miles. And he's not turning toward home for almost a week. 

I'll be here waiting. 

10 Signs You Are Married to an Airline Pilot

1. You carry your passport in your purse and have been known to go to the airport with no luggage for a weekend trip.

2. The terms: pushing, slam-clicker, CAT-2 approach, The Majors are meaningful to you

3. You can handle most home emergencies on your own.  But not ALL emergencies.

4. Vacations will nearly always include a visit to the local air museum.

5. You understand that flirting with the gate agent is not only ok, it may be what gets him a seat on the plane that will bring him home to you.

6.  Airport appreciation time is a thing. Read about my airport loitering PR here

7. Travel plans always include a Plan B.  When we originally planned a trip to Belize we ended up in Puerto Rico instead.  Read about another Pass-travel Fail here

8.  Most years, you attend the office Christmas party alone.

9.  Close to half of your relationship is conducted via text, phone or skype.  Oh boy!  I have not always been as OK with that as I am today.  But, we DO get creative. And we've learned to put technology to good use.

10.  You've learned to walk that fine line between making Home a comforting place to land at the end of a trip and keeping his adventure-loving spirit stimulated.

Women In Aviation Conference: And a three day tour of Nashville

When Rob registered for the Women in Aviation conference/job fair six months ago, I immediately offered to join him, because, Nashville. Driven through it before, but never visited.

It fell at the worst possible time for me. We had just returned from our dive trip to Bonaire. I was back at work for a week and then left again. And THEN, I was scheduled for some ongoing education at Duke University for a week. But, I was eager to get to know Nashville and I had discovered that some long-lost cousins live in the city, so I was excited to reconnect with them.

Tuesday my 24 hour call shift ended at 8am.  I was blessed by the call shift gods and actually slept at home, uninterrupted all night. Rob and I had planned to squeeze in a training flight for CAP because with all my travel this month, we really had no other available time to fly. So, we were up early and at the airport ready to depart by 8am.

It was a brief aerial photo training mission. We circled Arsenal Island and I took some shots of the dam and the site where an emergency services training will take place in a few months.  It was windy, and quite turbulent. The turns around my target were steep and tight.  Suddenly I was reaching for the motion sickness bag, humbled, but really and truly sick. I had managed to get the shots I needed, so we made a quick landing and were ready to hit the road to Nashville.  Yes, driving!  When every aviation professional in the country is headed to the same place, we knew better than to rely on pass travel.  And it's only a short 8 hours from home.

The week prior, as I went online to book our lodging, I discovered that the SEC tournament was in town.  Read, sold out and expensive hotel rooms. Instead, I decided to give Airbnb a try and found a sweet little 3 bedroom home we were able to rent for far less than the going rate for a hotel downtown. We got to the house, unloaded our bags and went in search of BBQ nachos.  It was Rob's birthday!

We decided to give Whisky Kitchen a try as the review for their BBQ nachos were good. There was a bit of a wait, even on a Tuesday evening, but we were told we could hang out outside, by the patio seating and take any seat that came available. Rob went to the bar and got drinks and we found a table shortly...not seated, mind you. It was a bar height table without stools. No probs. We were starving and not at all picky.

On the patio at Whiskey Kitchen

Rob got an Old Fashioned I stuck with wine and we eagerly awaited the acclaimed BBQ nachos. Very disappointed to find the nachos to be lacking in BBQ sauce. There was chicken, but no sauce. When we asked about it, our waitress happily brought us a ramekin of BBQ sauce that we drizzled over the nachos. Much improved! Rob ordered a second drink, trying the New Fashioned on our waitress' recommendation, but it was really not at all something he enjoyed. When she asked how he liked it and learned that he didn't at all, she insisted on replacing it with another Old Fashioned.

We went seeking music after dinner and ended up at a quaint little place called Family Wash and Garage Coffee.  A former Laundromat turned diner/bar.  The featured bands were different permutations of the same people; by evenings end they were all on stage together, shoulder to shoulder, putting out some good music. Trombone, steel guitar, accordion, and harmonica added to their unique sound.

Wednesday, we mapped the nearest Walmart and went in search of a portfolio. Duh. How do neither of us own one of those already?  Then we searched for a place nearby to get breakfast.  Sam and Zoe's looked suspiciously empty when we drove up at 7:36, but they had just opened. By the time we got our food, they were filling up.  I had a yummy strawberry scone and Rob had a breakfast burrito. Funky little place with a cool vibe. We ate quickly and then I drove Rob to the conference center and came back to our little house and took a nap. Then I met my aunt and cousin for brunch at a fun little place called Pfunky Griddle. You make your own pancakes and hashbrowns, even eggs if you order them.  The kitchen will prepare your bacon for you but the rest is up to you. It was fun!  Our waiter, Jeff, could not have been kinder or more patient. His t-shirt was covered in what looked like pancake batter and flour and it fit right in to the overall feel of the place.... a little bit grungy. But the place was full and the patrons all seemed to be enjoying themselves.

I spent the afternoon planning out our evening's adventures:  a tour of the neighborhood distillery, Corsair Distillery, Then Uber to The Hermitage Hotel downtown for happy hour in the Oak Bar, where a local we chatted with for awhile bought us a drink. Now that's some Southern Hospitality!  We had dinner at Merchants and then made our way over to the famous Tootsie's Orchid Lounge. What a fun night!

The Hermitage Hotel

Southern Hospitality at its finest. All we can say is "Thank you, Dewayne!"

Dinner at Merchants

Thursday morning we had breakfast at Pancake Pantry in Hillsboro, a neighborhood near Vanderbilt University.  This place was one of the "Must Try" breakfast spots that I had read about. It was fine. I could tell it was a local favorite. But, there was nothing spectacular about it. The neighborhood is cute.  I came back later to browse the shops while Rob attended the conference.

Thursday night, after Rob finished up at the conference, we had dinner with my family.  They were so sweet and had a very special German chocolate cake made to celebrate his birthday. We visited and reminisced and I received an "Uncle Dave special" hug as we said goodbye.

It was still early so we went out via Uber again to Music Row. Cant get enough live music in Nashville. We made sure to visit the world famous: Honky Tonk Central.

Friday:   Biscuit Love Go there. Stand in line.  This place is So worth the wait for breakfast. As the line wends its way toward the entrance, wait staff will come out and hand you menus. Once inside, you can browse the swag. I didn't buy a t-shirt or a mug. I did have a very memorable breakfast. The biscuits, well, of course. They are fantastic. I had a simple egg plate: with toast and cheese grits. Rob tried a unique take on a breakfast sandwich called The East Nasty. Biscuit + Gravy + Fried Chicken + Cheese.
We shared the Bonuts. It was an indulgence. But we had a long drive ahead of us.

These are the famed Bonuts. You gotta. 

The East Nasty 

Our three days in Nashville were so fun. I can't wait to return. Rob's conference went well. He made some good contacts. We are optimistic that he will find a way out of the regional airlines soon.  I am not sure what that will mean for how our lives will change, but I know it will be an important career move for him.  Cross fingers for him!  

Your Dog and I

Your dog and I

We wander the house

Aimless

I take up a task for a moment

Then return to the couch

He turns in circles

And lays back down

These days are better

My mind will settle on a book

And your absence isn't a physical pain

But I remember those days

Curled up here on the couch

Only sleep would ease the ache

Of missing you

Those days and months

When even your imminent return

Failed to revive my soul

When missing you

ruled the day

even when you were here

It got easier

You said it would

But you and I apart

Will never be right

Your dog and I

We will always be here

Slightly less ourselves

When you are gone

Unsure how to compose our bodies

Without you to lean against

Without your foot to step on

So, we circle and sit

We look for distraction

We listen

For the sound of you

Our man, at the door

Fragile, Winged Prayers

Away you go into the wide, wide world

into the busy-ness and the crowds,

fast moving machines and security screens

With your uniform on, passing through

going places, meeting people, seeing things

And there is energy everywhere.  You only see the good, because you have that spirit of goodness about you. But I know that there is bad out there too

I try to believe that you are safe because it helps me stay sane

But underneath your epaulets and behind your zipper-tie,

hidden beneath the shield of professional competency

I know you are still that vulnerable boy

Whom I love

and long to protect

I can do nothing from here except pray you safely onto the ground, safely back home to me

So I send out my prayers like a flock of migrating butterflies

I beg them to surround you

shield you as your uniform cannot

from the broken planes and all that is bad in the world

from the places of the lost and stolen

from anyone or anything that would bring harm to you.

When you feel that soft brush of butterfly wings against your cheek,

but find that there is nothing there,

know that you are surrounded by my fragile, winged, prayers

by my love, guiding you safely home.

What Missing You Feels Like

Day Trip to Austin

A cold morning flight to ORD

My phone rang at 7:28 a.m. on Monday morning.  My day off after a weekend of call. My alarm had been set for 7:30, so I was wakened from a sound sleep.  It was Rob, ending his 4-day trip in Chicago.
Rob: "How quickly can you pack a bag and leave the house?"
Me, disoriented: "Do you need me to drive and pick you up?"
Rob: "No. I want you to go to the airport. When do you have to work next?"
Me: "tonight at 10 p.m."
Rob: "Shoot. Ok. Get ready to go.  Let me see if this will work.  I'll call you back."

By 8:10, I was pulling out of the driveway.  No coffee, no breakfast. Fortunately I had showered the night before!  The dogs were fed and let out, arrangements had been made to have them looked in on later in the day. I was on my way to the airport with no destination in mind. Of course I was guessing like mad as I dressed hurriedly.  Christmas shopping in Chicago? Clearly he had planned for it to be an overnight, but he'd texted back to assure me that he'd have me home in time to go on call. I cancelled my day's appointments as I drove, certain that all the things on my "to do" list could wait for another day and eager for whatever adventure was in store.

I had to fly American, which meant checking in at the ticket counter.  The agent asked if I was an employee since I was flying using an employee perk that allows you to travel at a reduced rate on other airlines.  I asked her to check me in for my flight out of Chicago since I'd get there with a very tight layover...or no layover if we needed de-icing time.  She asked where I was going and I said, "I don't know, it's a surprise."  And I handed her my phone with the flight confirmation number on it.  "Well, once I print your boarding pass, you're gonna know. "  I promised her I wouldn't look because I wanted to enjoy the suspense. She handed me the pass and I folded it quickly and tucked it into my purse.

We didn't end up needing to be de-iced, but we took off late anyway! Getting off the plane in Chicago took forever.  I tried not to be impatient with the older gentleman in front of me. But, I knew that every minute mattered. Rob was texting me furiously.  "Where are you?"

Once off, he and I ran to the connecting gate but came up short when we saw that the gate was closed...and it was still 12 minutes prior to departure.  Officially it closes as 10 'til.  The gate agent gave us grief but Rob was persuasive.  The rule is 10 minutes and we were there at 12 'til!  She opened the door grudgingly and the family that got on with us was just as thankful that we were able to talk her into letting us board.  Otherwise, our adventure would have ended abruptly.

Rob had bought me a Greek omelet for breakfast and we waited to take off before eating; so it was nearly 11:30 before we both had breakfast.  But this was the view from our "table".

And this, was my dining partner.

On the tray table, you can see that he has a flight plan spread out.  By this time, after his further emphasis that he'd have me back home by 10 p.m., because we had "confirmed" seats on the flight home, I'd guessed our destination.  And I was thrilled.  Confirmed seats while flying Non-Rev, just don't happen.  So, I knew we weren't flying commercially. We were flying to Austin, where Rob's good friend Ben lives, and we were flying his twin engine Aztec home.

I was seriously like a little kid on my first flight, taking pictures out the window.  The clouds were just so beautiful.

Our "visit" to Austin was brief. Had I been off, we'd have spent the night and flown home the next day.  But, Ben needed to get the plane home, and with the iffy weather, he needed an experienced IFR pilot. He picked us up at the airport and we headed straight across town to the Aztec. No time for sight-seeing.  No time for lunch.

Here we are pre-flighting the plane at Austin Executive Airport.

 

We were in the air by 4 p.m. with a 5 hour flight time that included one fuel stop.  Our plan was to fly at 19,000 feet which meant, since the cabin wasn't pressurized, we'd need oxygen.  Ben had the tubing and adapters in a small rubbermaid bin.  My fellow passenger, an employee of Ben's and I ended up having to buddy breathe for the entire flight once we ascended past 11,000 feet because he didn't have enough adapters.  Nothing like knowing you are mildly hypoxic to bring on all the textbook symptoms!  We had a timer set on my cell phone and switched off every ten minutes. I was sleepy, fidgety and nauseous about a minute into my "room air" time every cycle!

Here's my buddy-breather and I, still smiling because we didn't yet know about the O2 situation!

With our headsets on, we can hear all the radio comm.  Mine had a loose connection so Rob and Ben were fading in and out a bit.

There's our pilot on the left and our IFR conditions pilot on the right. 

Nothing beats a sunset at altitude

Just after nightfall, there was some talk about switching from the right to the left fuel tank.  Rob told Ben to switch to the left.  Ben's voice sounded urgent and there was some shifting around as he yanked on some lever, "I can't get it. It's stuck."
"Well, you HAVE to get it or you're gonna lose this right engine," said Rob.
Suddenly their voices cut out and I couldn't hear any further communication for a few minutes.  My heart was racing.  I was certain that they had keyed us out so we wouldn't be privy to the emergency that was unfolding.  I'll admit to having a "get it right with God" moment.  But, in short order, I could see that the commotion had ended. And then, amidst the static, I began to hear them both speaking again.  It was an inopportune time for my headset to freak out, not, as I had thought, a deliberate silencing by the flight crew!  "Emergency" over, I was free to continue enjoying the flight.

Do you know how cold it gets at 19,000 feet in the winter?  Damn cold. Long down coat and fleece blanket cold. Falling asleep and starving and oxygen deprived cold. Brrrr! Damn, I'm a whiny date, aren't I?

We made a fuel stop at Bolivar Airport in Missouri.

Fuel stop

And landed in Moline by 9 p.m. Tower reported "poor braking action" on the runway and they were indeed right.  The airport was covered in ice.  We had to call for help to get the airplane into the hangar!

After the excitement of the day, we all needed nourishment.  Village Inn.  It was just after 11 p.m. and my Belgian waffle had just arrived when I was called to the hospital.  Ah, well.  I left the flight crew to linger over their meal, took my waffle in a "to-go" box and went to work, happy to enjoy the slightly less adventurous task of baby catching.

What's Up With Fargo?

I'm going to whine just a little here. Rob's schedule sucks this month!  It sucks!!!!

By now, I really AM used to the routine. He's home for a few days, then we pack up his 'lunch' bag, iron his pilot shirt, give a long hug and usher him out the door for 3-5 days.  Don't love it, but we've figured it out.  And then, comes a month like this one.  Trips back to back, where he gets home in the morning from one trip and leaves the very next day....both days are actually working days, but he at least gets to be home to sleep and refill his food. Then he gets a real day off. Yes. One.  And he's back at it.

Last week, he was home for our flooding emergency a half-day early and had one day off before heading out for a three day trip. I had a couple of days off prior to the July 4th holiday, but Rob was not going to be around. Some back-story here:  my favorite teenage son, R, has been nagging me to go on an adventure.  He likes the idea of heading to the airport and checking flight loads to determine where we should go, and then going there: no plan, just a carry-on bag and a sense of curiousity.  I've promised that he and I would do that some weekend this summer. He asked on Wednesday evening if we could maybe take our adventure trip during my days off.  Knowing that travel over the holiday is not usually a good idea when you are flying standby, I cautioned him that it might not work out.

But I checked with Rob to see what his schedule looked like.  I was happily surprised to find that his first day of work looked like this:  Chicago to Fargo.  That's it.  He said he'd be thrilled to have us join him. This seemed like a good compromise: making Rob's awful trip schedule a little more manageable and giving a nod to R's need for adventure.

Here's my two guys posing for the infamous cockpit shot:

The flights were smooth, not wide-open, but we got on easily each time.  We arrived in Fargo mid-morning on Thursday, July 3, all feeling a little tired and a lot hungry, having eaten breakfast at 3:30am.  After dropping our bags in the downtown hotel, we set out to find food.

Fargo is one of Rob's favorite overnights.  And I know why. He's sent me several postcards from a great little bar across from the hotel, JL Beers.

JL Beers is knows for it's burgers and it's loaded fries.  They also have a fine selection of beer.  It's a shoe-in for favorite pilot hang out.

Right next door is a little place called Vinyl Taco.  I'd heard Rob talk about it many times.  Not authentic, but a fun vibe and good food. That's where we were headed for an early lunch.  It was not yet 11 o'clock.

But, we were met at the door by a friendly waiter who informed us that no-one under the age of 21 is allowed in the establishment.  "Are you serious, Man?"  Yep. Nor could we eat outside on the patio with "anyone under the age of 21".  As it was explained, there is a city ordinance for liquor licensing.  Any restaurant that sells any alcoholic beverage is not, by law, allowed to have under-age patrons.

I was flabbergasted.  That's a good, old word.  It describes exactly how I felt.  We walked back outside and looked around.  How is a family supposed to dine in Fargo?  Take out?  JL Beers next door, had a sign:  No one under 21 allowed entry.  Now, that one, I can understand a little better.  It IS actually a bar.  But, Vinyl Taco?  It's a taco shop.  A very hip Taco Shop granted, but a friggin' taco shop.

We walked down the block a bit, passed a German bar: Wurst Bier Hall,  with an array of sausages on the menu.  Their sign welcomed underage patrons before 4pm.  But, gee, we weren't hungry for sausages.

I pulled up local ordinances on my phone, and indeed, underage patrons are not allowed to enter an establishment that sells alcohol of any kind.  EXCEPT when accompanied by a parent!

Here's a link to the Safe Communities Server Training website.
 http://apps.cityoffargo.com/SafeCommunities/Server%20Training%20Website.pdf

I applaud North Dakota's efforts to keep underage drinking from occurring, but how about letting a hungry family have a taco at 11 o'clock in the morning?  My guess is that Vinyl Taco has some extra restrictions on their license due to not enforcing the underage drinking laws.

So, after making some phone calls to be sure it was worth the walk over, we went to Rhombus Guys Pizza, sat on their rooftop patio, and had their famous T Rex pizza.  Rob and I had a beer.  R was once again exposed to the evils of alcohol.  Here he is sitting right next to a glass of local brew.

That's lemonade he's drinking!

The pizza was fabulous, or we were exceedingly hungry.  Maybe both.  The crust was that perfect combination of crisp and chewy that I love!

After lunch, we headed over to Nichole's Fine Pastry for dessert.  Not that we needed dessert, but since we'd already splurged on pizza, why not?

Later in the evening, after Rob and I met his crew for a beer at JL Beers, leaving R to watch a movie in the hotel room (we brought him a burger and fries)  the three of us took a walk around downtown Fargo.  We noticed something funny about the fire hydrants.

And we noticed that it stays light a very long time.  This picture is just after 9pm on July 3rd.

We had a 5 am flight the next morning, so bed came early.  It was fun spending the day with my two guys.  I'd happily spend it with them anywhere.


So, you could go there. Or you could watch the movie! I'm sure Fargo is like most mid-sized mid-w
estern towns: it has it's good and bad.  It has it's quirks.  It was perhaps not the best adventure destination.  The good news is, we get to go back in a couple of weeks for a national wrestling tournament for A.  If you know of any good, family friendly restaurants, please share!

Weathering the Storm

Thunderstorms were brewing all day last Monday and began rolling through by mid-afternoon. The rain kept coming through the evening, totaling as much as seven inches by the time the storms were over.  Wind took down tree branches and power lines and by mid evening, I was home alone, without power.

Just after nine, I learned I'd need to head to the hospital to take over on a labor patient as my shift started at ten. So, I put the dogs in the basement, and headed out a bit early. The rain was mostly done, but the light show as lightning arced and traced across the sky was fantastic.  About half-way in, my phone rang: the patient had delivered; I could turn around and head back home. It was good news, but I had a hunch it was temporary.  After a storm of that magnitude, I expected the babies would start raining down. So, as soon as I got home, I headed up to bed, opening the window in our room to try to catch a little breeze.  As I lay there, I began to hear a rushing and cracking sound. It sounded almost like a fire, popping branches as it burned. I got up to look and immediately realized, it was the creek.  I stood at the window watching as neighbors shined their spotlights across the expanse of grass in back, watching as the creek began to rise.

Now, Rob and I, we should have known better.  But we were complacent.  Despite living in a flood plain, half an acre from a creek that feeds the Mississippi, in a house that has been devastatingly flooded in the past, with a basement that no longer houses a furnace or water heater.  You would think we'd know better.  But, we had some overflow storage on the basement floor.  And, more important to this story, we did NOT have a battery back up for our sump pump.

I felt a rising sense of anxiety as I stood watching the creek rise into the yard.  How high would it get?  I finally texted my neighbor to ask that very question. She reassured me and asked if our basement was taking on water.  As I read her text, I was frozen in place, a sense of denial at the forefront of my thoughts.  That's crazy.  I very nearly texted her back saying as much but suddenly realized that the dogs were in the basement.  I grabbed my shoes and ran down to check.

When I opened the door to the basement, I heard it.  A sloshing sound.  Two very wet dogs made their way up, eyeing me reproachfully.  I made my way cautiously down:  there was about four inches covering the floor, and there, spread out in a corner of the basement, an array of items that I'd yet to catalog, but which were most surely getting ruined.  I panicked, and called Rob, who I knew would be asleep.  I wasn't even sure he'd answer.

Rob was in Erie, PA on an overnight.  I'm not sure what I thought calling him would accomplish.  But it was my immediate response.  All sleepiness left his voice as soon as he got the news. When he finished cursing himself for failing to install a battery backup pump, he moved on to a more practical approach.  Yes, he said,  I should try to get his old DJ equipment off the floor if I could.

And I shouldn't drop my phone in the water.

Well, I didn't drop my phone.  I let Rob go, leaving him to his sense of helplessness and set to the messy work, trying not to think about what was in the water.
Ankle deep, I sloshed around, using the light on my phone to illuminate the dark basement, salvaging what I could, for about ten minutes.  And then my phone started ringing and I did end up heading back to the hospital. I had such a sense of unease as I left our home, the creek still rising, our entire back yard under water, not knowing how bad it would get.  I put the dogs out into the garage, asked our neighbor to look in on them in the morning and went to work.

As I was walking into the hospital, I thought about Rob, across the country, feeling helpless and semi-responsible.  I sent him this email:

It's OK. I know you feel helpless. I know you wish you were around to help. And yes, I do too, but it's OK.
Don't stress. Don't have regrets. You married a strong woman who can get through... Maybe not gracefully, not as easily as she would if you were by her side.
I love you and I want you to know that I'm OK. I'm not hating your job right now.
We will learn how to be more prepared for these types of things, we will establish back up plans. It will get easier with time.
Just wanted you to know.
I love you! 

The next day was beautiful and sunny.   And I was busy at the hospital.
Rob was able to get released from the last day of his trip for the family emergency.  He was home by ten am and had a back up sump pump installed by evening.

The next day we were both off.  It was his only day off for the week.  We spent it cleaning the basement, hauling everything out, cleaning and disinfecting the floors and walls and making a trip to the county dump with a truck load of garbage.

As emergencies go, this was minor.  I was so grateful to Rob for coming home.  In truth, by the time he arrived, the damage was contained, but the fact that he wanted to be there to help me with the cleanup meant a lot.

There WILL be other crises.  There will be snow and ice storms, illnesses, car troubles and other things I don't want to imagine.  Living as we do, with Rob across the country most days of the week, we need to be prepared for me to handle these minor emergencies on my own. My thoughts and feelings on this issue have come so far over the last two years. I can honestly say that I feel no anger or bitterness at all thinking about being alone. I spent so much energy on those feelings; I'm thrilled to find that they are no longer a part of me. I do feel a practical sense of urgency in regard to the logistics of this way of life.  Top on my priority list: a snow blade for our riding mower.  It may be the height of summer storm season, but winter is right around the corner!

What kind of contingency plans or back up plans does your family have for handling crises?

This is Now

It was a long day apart

and your leavetaking comes too early tomorrow,

before the sun comes even, you will leave

But we are together now

my head against your chest, and your arms around me

I sigh, letting go the day, this is now.

Living with a Pilot: Coming Undone

It's been a hard week and I've come a bit undone. Getting lost in looking down the road.  Anytime I start counting the time that we are apart: 8 months a year, 20 years over a 30 year career.  It devastates me.  I honestly cannot understand how anything, any amount of optimism or putting a positive spin on things can ameliorate the effect of those numbers.  What they mean.  Living our lives apart.  I can't comprehend how he can hear those numbers and not pause.

He just left today around noon, after getting home the night before last around midnight.  In his book, that's three days at home.  Feels more like a day and a half to me.  But I can't say that.  That is being negative.  Five more days away, then two more home.

I'm just really struggling.

So, I haven't been writing. Not even fluffy cooking pieces.  Though I have been cooking.

I've been cooking fall food: soup, chili, roasts, root vegetables.  I made a yummy roasted eggplant salad the other day that I'd never tried before and was quite fond of it. Then there was the Green Chili Pork Stew with lots of fresh jalapenos, cilantro and lime. Even the 12 year-old boy with the "hot" aversion liked it.

I've been cooking pear crisp and giving away pears, and snacking on pears and I still have bags of pears in the garage.  My trees fruited abundantly this year. And I can see I must learn how to prune, for they damaged themselves with the weight of the fruit.

I've been talking about training for a half in early November.  I put together a catch-up training schedule.  I've been seeing a new chiropractor to help with my hip issues but I've only half-heartedly been running.

And I've been trying to live on a budget.  Money freaks me out.  There.  I said it.  I suck at money. So, this budget thing....yeah, we aren't really friends, yet.

I've been going to cross country meets and soccer games.  I've been letting the grass grow way too long in my yard and then, today, I finally cut it.

But, all along, as I go through my days without my partner by my side, I've been feeling low.

Knew this Newark thing was gonna be hard.  But, yep, I'm struggling.  It's a glamorous life this:  living "with" a pilot.

Tulsa, Oklahoma in 4 Hours

Date night started when Rob and his crew arrived.  We caught the shuttle van to the hotel, arriving in downtown Tulsa at around 5pm. Captain Bobbie is a runner, so Rob had already planned that the four of us, would go for a run along the Arkansas River.  Their flight attendant, Ruth, was game, though about as much of a runner as Rob.  We all changed quickly and met back in the lobby.
It's about a ten minute walk to the riverfront bike/running path through some sketchy downtown areas and some nicer old neighborhoods.

The path was shaded in parts, but afforded a nice view of the river.  We passed several park and seating areas, and a riverfront bar as we made our way past one bridge, and turned around at the second. Ruth and Rob walked back while Bobbie and I ran the three mile river path. By the time we made it back to the hotel we were ravenous.

Bobbie led our freshly showered  group on about a mile walk through the blue dome district to the iconic Joe Mommas restaurant. On our way we saw numerous cowboy boot shod folks, and it was hard to discern whether that was simply Oklahoma on display or a result of the Luke Bryan, Florida Georgia Line concert that was in town.  But, it is clearly not JUST a cowboy town, we also passed this: 

And this:

And of course, the historic blue dome. https://www.facebook.com/BlueDomeTulsa Built originally as a gas station on Route 66, the building is oddly out of place, something you'd be more likely to encounter on a hillside city in Greece. 

Joe Mommas is famous for its ghost pepper pizza (The Incinerator) and wings. 

Here we area waiting about 15 minutes for a table.

Rob tried the ghost pepper sauce and was seemingly nonplussed. 

Many of the wood-fired pizzas, which are hand-tossed for your viewing pleasure, feature peppers. We tried Nathan's Unlikely Marriage, an interesting combination of buffalo ranch sauce, buffalo chicken, bacon, roma tomatoes, jalapenos and cheddar cheese.  Our second pizza was called Sweat Heat: Alfredo sauce, bacon, ham, jalapenos and pineapple.   

After dinner, we strolled home through the downtown area that earlier in the evening had hosted a street festival.  We had been so hungry on our way to Joe Mammas that we did not stop to enjoy it.  However, we were able to enjoy the street art undisturbed as we walked home.  Here are a few of my favorites.

Love this little frog!  If I ever get talked into a tattoo, this guy will be part of it.

 

Morning came early, as the crew had a show time of 8am.  I went along to the airport, to work on my airport loitering PR, though the first flight I had any likelihood of getting on did not leave until noon.  But, I got to watch Rob take off.  Here is his plane, preparing to leave.

And here he is taking off for Denver:

And me, watching him fly away:

Between yesterday's travels to get there, and today's to get home, I spent 20 hours in an airport or on a plane.  For 4 hours in Tulsa.  But, you know what?  These crazy date nights that the girls at the office tease me about, they are what make this life just a little easier to handle.  I would do it again, and I probably will.  Wouldn't you?