FINALLY!!
So this is where we'll be living....a little farm in a little town way outside Denver. It has barns, a stable, a corral, pastures, fruit trees, and a bunkhouse. What more can we ask for? Oh, and a house, there's a house. And a horse. The owner is a great guy, a retired Master Chief, and we're already great friends, I think.
I tried putting up a couple of pictures, but Blogger's not cooperating. Maybe I'll try again tomorrow before work.
Cap'n Lex has added a sort of open forum for regular readers to post to his blog. It's called "The Flight Deck", and I'm sure it will be great fun for those who know Lex and his regular commenters, and should prove interesting even for those who don't. Go take a look, all both of you.
So tonight's my last night in Puerto Rico. Tomorrow I board the Freedom Bird, bound for Denver at last. I'm going with decidedly mixed feelings. We've been here eight years, and man, what a ride it's been. I can't say I love this place, but there's a lot here I'm gonna miss, besides the weather. Most especially I'm going to miss the people I've gotten close to. The folks I've worked with at Roosey, my shipmate and drinking buddy Butch (love ya, no shit, Senior Chief!), and most of all my Seabees. I've invested a lot in the Seabees of Det 14, and they've brought me a long way since 1999. We've gone to war together, and we all came home together. They played a big part in me earning my anchors, and I like to think I had a little to do with a couple of them earning theirs; at least they honored me by letting me pin them on. Fair winds and following seas to you all.
OK, that's about all I'm gonna miss about this place, except the weather. It's about 85 degrees right now; in Denver it's 37, the highest it's been since Christmas, I think. And I'm kinda cold. I guess I'll get acclimatized; I once went (in February) from here to Mississippi to New York to Kuwait to Iraq. Major temp changes at every step, and I lived. I'll miss the ocean, but I haven't been to the beach in months and haven't been diving in over three years.
I'm looking forward to fishing in the rivers and hunting (GUNS, I miss GUNS!!!!), and driving on roads that don't rattle my teeth. And speaking English, though I hear that my (barely passable) Spanish might come in handy around the Mexicano-Americans.
OK, enough rambling, I've got to pack.
It's been a good New Year here. We decided to celebrate the New Year at home, to avoid the prospect of DUI tickets or stupid accidents. I am fuked up as a football bat, but I'ved said Happy New Year to my kids and other folks that count, so I feel like I did my part. I would like to say Happy New Year to our troops out there doing what needs to be done in Iraq and Afghanistan and wherever else our guys stand guard against stupidity. Ya'll know we have your back, and we believe in the job you're doing. Stand fast, guys, we're with you, no matter what you read in the "news".
So I'm sitting here, watching the kids open their presents, having a few drinks, just basically enjoying Christmas; and I think about our guys in Iraq. I searched the Innerwebs, looking for a way to send them Christmas wishes, and found lots of ways for the troops to send good wishes home, but nothing to send anything their way. I even made some phone calls, and looked for my old wheelbooks, looking for a phone number that I might use to get in touch with folks I know over there. So I'll post something here, that the'll probably never see, that very few people will see, but it'll make me feel like I did a little something for them. So, Bogey, Rick, Skipper, if you see this, I hope you guys have a happy Christmas, stay safe, know we're thinking about you, and come home safe. We're praying for you, and all our guys, and we hope to see you soon.
Update: The Multi-National Force-Iraq OIF website has a "Messages for the Troops" link in the sidebar. Check it out, and let the guys in the field know you care.
Walken's at it again; don't miss this little Christmas story. Look around while you're there, you'll hurt yourself laughing.
Merry Christmas, ya'll.
