Thursday, April 17, 2008

Slow Time

So Trooper has a new trainee (we are not to use the term Recruit any longer) and he seems quite promising! I can tell you that Trooper's attitude has improved. They're out there, now, finishing up a "fatal packet" and other paperwork after dinner with Sarge. Can you imagine? Fresh out of academy and straight into night shift.

I try to remember those days but to be honest it's all a blur, now. The months flew by - after he left and I remained home for all those months...and the move...and his own 6 months as Trainee...it's almost baffling how quickly it has all gone by.

We spoke today about the future and where we might live. About what home business we could manage to keep the cash rolling in even after retirement. I know, he says, "what retirement?". Of course, if Ranger-dom calls, all plans are out the window as one never knows where an opening might be. You would be amazed at how many trailers and RVs are rented and planted on an acre of friendly farmer land in the middle of nowhere. Because for a year you can tolerate almost anything. So they say, anyway. I am glad we didn't have to find out.

But I've told him - we can get some land out west, certainly, and build a small cinderblock hacienda. Have some comfy chairs outside to watch the stars. Certainly. But perhaps a bit of land nearer the new track and the range...promising, too.

You see, Texas makes it damned hard to pick! You literally have every environment possible in one state and he can effectively transfer to any part of it. Spoiled for choice, isn't that how it goes? But then...I don't know about an even smaller town...already I have to be careful in my attire at the grocery. Because they know who you are. And they will talk. Oh, I don't give a damn, really, but I also don't want to impact his work and career. I am sort of old fashioned that way - I think supporting your husband and his work is a very large part of a happy marriage.

In a smaller town I worry that I couldn't even walk him to his patrol car in my flannel PJs. Of course, I could pull out all the stops and be the local "nutter".

Small town life...right now, our town is literally seething with discussion about should they or should they not put artificial turf on the high school field. Yup. We believe in football here. We believe HARD. Now, I've not a dog in the fight, really. No kids so...does it matter? But I DO see that the roads to the schools are utter crap, that there are still trailers for some, and who knows about the other details of education. I have to think that $1M could be spent on something...else? And we all know that playing on grass is far superior. C`mon. It's a simple fact. No argument.

I almost inserted an unkind cheerleader joke in there and then thought better of it. No...again, small town. And they do not deserve it - there is none of that "hootchey cootchey" dancing going on here. How I hated that in Atlanta!! My God! Even the little junior squad girls were writhing like they were dancing with a pole! No, nothing like that so...we'll shove my inner punk back and let her stew awhile.

Ah, yes. I was a punk. You'd better believe it. Were we all represented in The Breakfast Club? Not exactly. I was a little bit of both Bender and Reynolds...later in life I even had the old WWII Army Officer's winter overcoat. Oh, that was a find...too bad it left with an ex long ago. I loved that damn coat.

Anyway, all that to say that from there to here - a heartbeat. And a lifetime. Who knew it would go so fast?

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