Going Gray

It happens.  My hair is getting lighter and lighter.  I love it.  To me it is an honor.  So many people never have the privilege of seeing those white strands multiply.

Years ago, when I just had a few shiny white strands, my mother insisted that it was time to cut my hair short and color it.  Remember those old commercials?

Yep.  That is what came to my mind.  I looked at my mom like she had lost her mind.  The last time I let her style my hair I ended up with a gravity defying boufaunt and a banana clip.  Nope nope nope.

Now my hair is even longer.  My mother looks at my hair with a sour look on her face.

After years of nagging I decided to give in and used blue splat.  Then my daughters started getting into the act.

My poor mom.

Recently I looked in the mirror and realized my once dark hair isn't so dark anymore.  I'm not sad at all.  It makes my fun colors show up even brighter.  I let Dragon pick the color and now I have very fun, very long hair.  Without damaging my hair with bleach, I have a fantastic vivid color.

Love it.

I love my gray and I love my fun colors!

Strangers

Dragon asked if I had shared Strangers this year.  Looking back at my blog I see that it has been several years.  The journal is long gone.  This is the only entry that remains.  I know it is hard to read. Know that it was even harder to live.  

Strangers

Why do I share this every year?   Most people have no idea what it is like to be military.   Most people have no idea what it is like to be the one left behind.

This was written at the beginning of a deployment to a war zone, at the mid point and finally back at the airport.   The journal page was tear stained.   That was the hardest deployment of a long career.

******
I hate airports. They are places of tears. My body shakes as I try to control them. Then I look at my children and I see their hearts breaking. My own tears fall….He sees my tears and his iron grip of control begins to slip. People turn away. They can’t stand to see our pain. They know where he is going. They know we are left behind. I stand at the window watching the plane pull away from the gate. Walk that lonely walk back to the car. The drive home seems longer than ever. The house does not feel like home.

My best friend, my husband, the father of children has left. I don’t know where he is going. Don’t want to know. More questions than answers. When will he come home? Will he come home? How do I survive? He is my life. He is everything. I am me because he is with me. No more watching or reading the news. Not even just to read the headlines. Routine. Step by step each day I learn to survive. Run, breakfast, cut grass, shower, lunch, clean, check email, walk the dog. Same thing every day moving in a daze. I am afraid to hope.

At the airport again. The seasons have changed. But then so have I. I stand at the arrival gate waiting for a stranger. He is my husband and the father of my children. My tears fall once again. I am nervous and afraid. Will he really come home this time. Will everything be the same? I hope so. There he is. I see him. He has cut his hair again, his skin is darker, his eyes are different. I expect his hug to feel the same but it doesn’t. He walks ahead of me much faster than I can keep up to get to the luggage pickup. I know I should understand why but I don’t and he can’t explain. We are strangers again.

a military wife

Pain

Steps up to soap box

I deal with chronic pain on almost a daily basis.  Unfortunately I am allergic to most pain relievers.  The only one I can take is Tylenol.  And that stuff is toxic even at low doses.  It doesn't touch my pain.  Absolutely no relief.

At one point the pain was so bad that I was willing to turn the marijuana to find some relief.  Thankfully it is illegal here and Dragon has issues with breaking the law.  With my luck, I would have a massive allergic reaction to the stuff.

One day, curled up in the fetal position, I nearly gave up.  Somehow during that really hard period, we figured out that alcohol cut the pain.  Not the hip and back pain.  Or even the pain that turns my hands into claws.  But just a little whiskey reduced the headaches and facial pain.

Somehow alcohol has become my go-to drug when I just can't stand it any.

I'm careful.  I know the risk.  I never drink if I know I am going to drive.  When I see that I've been drinking too much, I back off.  Sometimes I'll go for days without a drink.  If the pain isn't bad, I don't touch it.

The alternative is curling up and whispering 10 10 10.  The other alternative is prescription drugs. Those drugs are just as addictive and I can't take them anyway.

If the head and facial pain is only at 6 or 7, I deal with it.  8 and above I start looking for relief.

I didn't know how Dragon always seems to know when I'm hurting.  Today he told me.  I loose mobility in my face.  Half smiles. Slurred speech and aphasia.

Here is the biggest mystery.  When Dragon starts getting concerned about how much I'm drinking, I quit for a few days or even weeks on my own.  The bottles just sit there.  I'm not even tempted.  My daily limit is usually 4 shots for an entire day.  Normal is less.

People judge me for it but I just don't care.  You want to judge how I live, you try living even one day with my pain.  Yes. I know what alcoholism does to a family.  Yes I know what it does to my body but the alternative is suicide.  I couldn't stand the pain any more.

Steps off of soap box

Subspace

Dragon needed to study.  He is taking two classes from a local college.  But he couldn't settle down and get it done.  The reading material is tuff.  I'll give him that much credit.  

He read about half of the required material and gave up for the day.  We sat down to watch Netflix for a little while.  It didn't take him very long to figure out I needed his touch.

He grabbed my hands and held them in his strong grip.

I was done.

Subspace

That's all it took.

No, our play didn't end there.  He wouldn't pass up an opportunity like that.  Absolute submission.

I slept better than I have in months.

Price Gouging

Yes, I know this isn't a political blog but it is affecting me RIGHT NOW.

Right after the hurricane water could be found for $40+ a case.  Media pressure was enough to bring the price back down.

Now the oil industry is cashing in on the disaster.  Gas prices are up almost $2 a gallon.  The media has created a false panic about nonexistent shortages.

I pray the Governor Abbot or President Trump put a stop to this fast!  We are already struggling without this mess.

Hurricane Harvey

This time we were not in the path.  We should have been but this is what happens when you name a hurricane after a man. He won't ask for directions, wanders around lost, leaves a mess and doesn't clean up after himself.

Life is getting back to the crazy normal.  Even Dragon is going back to school.  AND  I have two clients!  The first since Dragon retired.  Happy me.  A very busy me.  I like it when life keeps me busy!

Series Book Review

I love Karen Chance as an author.  Her books have me waiting on the edge of my seat for the next one in the series.

But.  

You can't have a character that knows guns and calls a magazine a clip.  I can't stand it.  Every time Dorina calls a magazine a clip I have to put the book down for the day.  It makes the book last longer but it is irritating.

I love Cassie but how does that girl keep ending up naked?  Every book!  Good grief, give the girl some clothes.

And last but not least, over complicated scenes.  I get totally lost in the improbable battle scenes.

Don't get me wrong.  I LOVE her books.  Vampires, werewolves, magic and romance.  I highly recommend the Cassie Palmer and Dorina books but be warned, some parts are hard to read.