Feeling blue?  Or maybe color #25?

Maybe a little dose of something lighthearted will pick up your spirits.  Have a little fun and do some painting-by-number.  You can do it at your desk, no muss, no fuss (assuming your internet access will let you get to this link).

You can even choose from a number of artists’ works to paint.  I’m partial to Georgie O’Keefe’s floral works, myself.

Let me know what you pick; I'd love to hear what you think!

2:16:29 PM    comment []

There’s no manual

I watched the CENTCOM briefing this morning, listened as reporters asked in multiple languages and accents about the events leading up to and culminating in the alleged deaths of Saddam’s sons.

As I said yesterday, I’m skeptical.  There were skeptics present among the reporters as well, validating my own concerns.  I listened intently because of my nagging doubts and uncertainty.

Maybe it was the frequent use of the words “son” or “sons” that did it, the anchors on multiple channels talking about Saddam’s son Udai or his son Qusai or both sons together, the crawl at the bottom of all the news channels flashing the word “son” or “sons”.  Perhaps it was the degree of skeptically discerning focus I had on the message that did it, checking me short.  Whatever the mental tripwire, I stumbled onto a painful truth.

I don’t know what to do if a military car pulls into my driveway.

My husband is out of town again, within a couple hour commute, just for a meeting today.  He could be anywhere on the road between here and there at any time, he could be in a conference call, he could be on the plant floor doing whatever it is that managers do day-to-day.  What do I do if a dark-colored American-made sedan with military plates pulls in the driveway, regardless of where my husband is at any time?

Do I simply tell the man in the uniform who steps up to the door, Sorry, you’ll have to come back, deferring the sober message until my husband is here?  Do I call my husband immediately, before this uniformed member of the Armed Forces even steps foot out of the car?  Do I demand my husband come home immediately, with no explanation?  Do I tell him there’s someone here from the military?  Does the military handle it for me?  Do I call the in-laws, the grandparents, and tell them a military representative is here? 

There is no protocol.  There is no book of instructions for me to follow, no manual of appropriate behavior for a wife and stepmother to follow.  I don’t think there’s instructions for natural or adoptive parents, either; at least I haven’t seen my husband thumbing through any military-issued information.

As if having a manual would make this any easier on the bearer of the message or the intended recipient.

While watching the CENTCOM briefing, I note there’s been two more troop deaths yet again today.  Somebody’s sons died today, not just Saddam’s.

Two dark-colored American-made sedans with military plates will pull into two different neighborhoods.  Two doors will be answered.  And two people each answering the door will have to find the answers to the questions I’m asking myself right now.  They’ll have to make it up as they go along in the blindness of grief, feel their way along in the grip of heartbreaking pain.

It wouldn’t matter if every speck of Saddam’s gene pool was wiped off the face of the earth today.   It won’t matter if the words “son” or “sons” aren’t used again today in the news.  It still won’t stop those vehicles bearing military plates which are already waiting for their mission today. 

Dear God, please, not this house, not today.  I don’t think I can answer the door.

10:48:07 AM    comment []

A letter to You-Know-Who

Hey, I owe you a huge apology; there are some emails I’m still catching up on, going waaaay back like months now.  Some of your emails are of a nature that really begs a better answer than I can give off the cuff – or require some other action that will take more uninterrupted time than I have right now.  In at least one case, it’s likely you really didn’t need a prompt reply; it would be in your best interest if I didn’t whip off an answer right away.  Really.

I beg your continued indulgence; I haven’t forgotten and I’ll try to respond shortly.

Thanks,

~Rayne

p.s. There are several of you, You-Know-Who…little comfort knowing you’re not alone, hmm?

9:38:55 AM    comment []