It's Getting Better All the Time...

Those of you who know what a crappy singer I am will be relieved that you can't hear me warbling...okay, screeching that old Beatles song...But it's an apt theme for the progress with our remodel.

As of today, the oak hardwood floors are finished, and look gleamingly gorgeous. The Spousal Unit and I expanded the painting portion of the project plan.. Alliteratively... and the new color schemes, coupled with fresh, white ceilings, gives the place a whole new look. Even the trailer is beginning to feel like "home".

Of course, we are buying some nice new furniture pieces to replace some of the "eclectic" stuff, and revising what will go up on the walls once we move back in next week. But hey, it's only money!

Remodel Hell Continues!

Last night was our first in the 17' trailer, and it was almost our last. The Spousal Unit (SU) is definitely not suited for the small RV lifestyle. She prefers the bedroom to be as dark as Carlsbad Cavern, without the lights. Between the twin skylights, a couple of missing slats on the window blinds, and the high-intensity street light on the corner, SU wasn't a happy camper...literally. Naturally it was too cold, this being "summer" in Washington State. So, SU wound up sleeping like a baby; Waking up every hour and crying!

I found the experience comparable to sleeping in a "Wet CHU" (Containerized Housing Unit, equipped with a bathroom), so was very comfortable. I made the mistake of mentioning that to the SU, which scored me zero sympathy points.

Our contractor and his crew showed up on time this morning, ready to remove the rest of the carpet, the interior doors, and trim, in advance of the floor installation team who hit the ground tomorrow. During the walk-through, we discovered that an old leak in the siding had rotted away a portion of the subfloor and footer, and covered the insulation with mold. Yet another benefit of hiring a general contractor to do the entire remodel is that it took him just a couple of hours to completely repair the damage, while his crew completed the removal job. Of course, the new drywall will need to be painted, which of course led to our decision to have the bedrooms/office repainted in complementary colors...they were last painted in 1990. Yep, we are definitely experiencing the remodel phenomenon known as "Project Creep".

Wednesday, 20 July:

I returned to work, leaving the SU to greet the hardwood floor installation crew. Telephonic reports during the day confirmed that these guys were all-star caliber craftsmen. The floor looks great...and they are due to finish by Friday. We celebrated our anniversary and the remodel progress by going out to dinner at Hunan Garden, which virtually assures that we'll shatter the previous family record for number of days in a month eating out in a restaurant by this Friday. (Sigh)

A Deployment is Great Prep for Home Remodeling!

I am sitting in the bare bones computer room, blogging as a team of Haz-Mat specialists are tearing up the carpet in the dining room and hallway. They are removing the 1970's vintage vinyl flooring, which is impregnated with asbestos, in addition to being truly ugly. (By the way, I exercised great self-restraint this morning by NOT referring to them as the "Master-Abaters".  Since they are all large dudes, wielding sharp implements, that was a wise choice on a number of levels.) While my beloved Spousal Unit is experiencing a fair degree of stress associated with having our relatively placid lives disrupted, I have found that the tempo is somewhat akin to life during deployment. Well, except for the rocket and mortar attacks, convoys, and helicopter flights, and mess hall food, and walking several hundred meters to the latrine and shower trailer...anyway, by comparison, this is a breeze! By the way, it's 8:30 p.m. in Baghdad, and it is still 100 degrees, while the temperature here is...65 degrees! Much more comfortable...

My spousal unit and I decided about a year ago to have the 20-year old carpet replaced with hardwood floors pretty much throughout the house. We did a lot of research and discussion, and let the idea percolate for nine months...though I doubt that "gestation period" was conscious! After first deciding on bamboo, we finally settled on solid oak, and expanded the project to replacing all of the cheap, hollow-core interior doors and trim with solid hardwood versions, and scrapping the yellow formica kitchen countertop and chipped yellow sink for a nice Corian deck and heavy-duty stainless steel sink. Angie's List yielded a good contractor, the estimate was within our budget.

Once we got the schedules finalized, the odious task of moving most of our belongings from the house to the garage was next on the agenda. This is where being blessed by having some of the best friends/colleagues ever really saved our butts. Last Saturday, these valiant warriors of amateur furniture relocation showed up and we completed the mission by noon...Yep, three hours of hard work, followed by an hour of pizza and beer "after action review" yielded a cleared house. We owe them BIG TIME.

I purchased one of those inflatable queen-sized mattresses with the integrated electric pump, and we spent the rest of the weekend camping out in the empty house, watching TV, eating left-over pizza, and mentally getting ready for the actual kick-off this morning. Spousal Unit packed up the pups and headed out for a day-long exile, while I remain on-site to handle questions. So far, so good! Another friend will be hauling out the 15' trailer I rented from Ft Lewis Recreation Services this evening, which will be parked next to the house and serving as our residence for the next two weeks. Our general contractor just called to confirm he, and a gigunda trash dumpster, will be arriving sometime tomorrow, and the flooring subcontractor starts on Wednesday. If all goes according to plan (and doesn't it always?), we'll be ready to move all our stuff back in the house in 14 days, and resume life in a very different looking home.
I'll post a progress report mid-project, and a final report once everything is back to "new normal".
(Postscript: The asbestos abatement foreman just advised that there's hazmat vinyl under the newer vinyl in the kitchen...we thought that had been removed when the new stuff was installed...good thing they discovered that while the job is in progress, so it can be removed for just a relatively small added cost. Otherwise, the wood floor install would have come to a crashing halt day after tomorrow! Semper Gumby!)

Loose in the Palouse, I'm a Walla Walla Wallah!

One of the best parts of my civilian job is when I escape my Cubicle of Deathly Boredom and get out on the road, providing emergency management planning assistance to local jurisdictions.  This week I was invited out to the southeastern portion of our state, which is geographically referred to as The Palouse. This time of the year is especially stunning, with endless rolling hills covered with bright green wheat, undulating in the wind like an emerald ocean. There's a whole different vibe out there, compared to the Seattle area...more laid back, plain spoken attitudes. The Palouse is also home to Washington State University, which is the football arch-rival of my grad school alma mater, the University of Washington. Since I was a guest of the locals, I didn't wear any of my UW apparel...well, at least until I was leaving town this morning...it's good to show the purple and gold just to remind people that all Huskies aren't confined to Seattle.
Next stop was the all-time alliterative capitol of America: Walla Walla Washington! Despite living in this state for over 30 years, I had never visited Walla Walla until today. Serious omission there! Quaint downtown, wine shops about every 100 feet (the Columbia River region boasts some of the finest wineries in the world, and they definitely have the market cornered on quirky, funny names!), and the sidewalks were filled with people eager to prove that Walla Walla deserves their recent honor of being named, "Friendliest Small City in the USA". I witnessed what probably passes for Road Rage, when one motorist hollered at another driver who was blocking an intersection, "Hey there, sir, if it's not too much trouble, can I get by you?" The response? "Oh, gee, I'm really sorry...I'll move in a jiffy! Have a nice day!"
Since I didn't finish my meeting until late afternoon, I decided to stop for dinner in Union Gap, after getting stuck in slow-moving detour traffic. Crawling along the main street, I glanced to my right, and spotted an old favorite from my Yakima Training Center tank gunnery days in 1980-81..."Jean's Cottage Inn". I saw an open parking space and on impulse pulled in. I think the last time I had eaten there was 1983. It was a favorite among our battalion officers, because their schtick was simple and brilliant: Offer a heftyT-Bone steak, potato, and salad for around $10, and serve that meal in about five minutes after you place your order. Naturally I didn't expect the current version to be anything as awesome as I remembered it, but I was dead wrong! Almost 30 years later, the price of a steak dinner had gone up a measly buck ninety-five, the steak was a fork-tender 16oz T-Bone, the salad and potato were first rate, and yep, it was sizzling in front of me in 4 minutes and 27 seconds. If you've stuck with the grilled chicken breast and steamed vegetables regimen on a regular basis, but are in the Yakima area craving a serious burst of 1950s chloresterol goodness, you've gotta drop in at Jean's Cottage Inn...(Just be forewarned that Jean's isn't open on weekends...a faith-based accomodation which hasn't hampered business since they opened in 1946.)
I sure do enjoy being on the road!

A Memorial Day Tribute To My Uncle "Bub"

My uncle, Leo R. "Bub" Howe, passed away on 31 March this year. Uncle Bub typified members of "The Greatest Generation" in that he was humble, hardworking, generous, and very modest about his combat service during World War Two. When I was growing up, both my father and mother made reference to Uncle Bub's heroism during the Battle of the Bulge, but there were never any details. As I became older, and went into the Army during the mid 70s, I tried a couple of times without success to get Leo to talk about his wartime experiences. He just would say something like, "It wasn't fun," and change the subject. 

Several years ago, Uncle Leo and Aunt Mary Lou were staying in our home, visiting my dad and some other friends in the area. I had just received notice that my reserve unit was going to be deployed to Iraq, so I asked Uncle Bub if he had any advice for me. He retorted bluntly, "Don't go!" Leo paused for a minute, then started telling me what it was like during the final days of the push into Germany in 1945. He was a Sergeant in the 364th Field Artillery Battalion, part of the 76th Infantry Division, and was assigned as a forward observer/scout/liaison, driving ahead of the front lines in a jeep with a lieutenant. Uncle Bub explained that it could get pretty dangerous out there, with the constant potential of running into a German ambush, but he liked the freedom of roaming the countryside. One morning in April, as Leo and his lieutenant were approaching a woodline outside of a small German village, a small group of Wehrmacht soldiers came out of the forest with their hands in the air. A German Colonel asked Leo if he would be willing to take their surrender. When the lieutenant said "Yes", and asked how many troops were surrendering, the colonel replied something to the effect of "The whole division." He went back into the trees, and emerged with a major general. The general indicated he wished to surrender his division to the American Army, rather than the Soviets who were bearing down from the East. Uncle Leo and his lieutenant radioed this news to their command post, and were directed to bring the general back to battalion HQ. As for the rest of the German division, Uncle Leo said he told the colonel to have them ditch their weapons, and start them marching down the road toward the U.S. front lines. Leo and the lieutenant drove the general back to the battalion, where he was bundled into a Piper Cub observation plane, and flown back to Division HQ. Uncle Bub grinned slightly, and said that incident gave him the most pleasure of anything that had happened to him during the war.

That was the only time Uncle Leo and I talked directly about the war. I know that he was decorated with the Bronze Star Medal for valor, in an era when such medals were given sparingly. More important than any medals he earned, Uncle Leo was a hero more for how he lived his life after returning from Europe. He was an honest, faithful, contributing member of his community up until his last day. He and Aunt Mary Lou raised a family, instilling in them those same attributes. Whether Uncle Bub was operating his barber shop, working for the local school district, or managing the small hotel in Hawaii, he did everything with energy, enthusiasm, and humor.

I'm very proud to have known my uncle, Leo R. Howe, and will always be grateful for the courage and sacrifice he and our other war veterans have made, and continue to make on our nation's behalf.
Rest in Peace, Uncle Bub...You've earned it ten times over.

You've Got To Read "Lions of Kandahar"!

Major Rusty Bradley, US Army Special Forces, and Combat Journalist Kevin Maurer have co-written an amazing, powerful non-fiction account of the little-known Battle of Sperwan Ghar, which occurred north of Kandahar, Afghanistan in 2006. I had the opportunity to preview this book prior to its publication date (June, 2011), and was sucked in by page two.
There are some really superb books out there describing the realities of combat in Afghanistan and Iraq. ( Kaboom, by Matt Gallagher, is one of those) What really grabbed me about Lions of Kandahar is Rusty Bradley's talent for pulling the reader into the middle of the action...His descriptions felt so real to me that I was compelled to drink lots of water while reading about some of the prolonged firefights.
I have talked to a couple of acquaintances who are part of the Special Forces community, and know Major Bradley. These folks say he's the real deal, not a self-promoting poser, which validates the highly positive impression I formed from the way he described his philosophy of combat leadership, and relationship building with the Afghan people.
Anyone who is serious about gaining a perspective about why we are in Afghanistan, and whether we can truly accomplish anything more after the death of Osama Bin Laden, should definitely read this book.
If you don't also feel humbled and awed by these Special Operations warriors after the last page, then nothing will move you. I am truly grateful for what Major Bradley and his fellow Green Berets have accomplished, and sacrificed, since 2001.

On Writing, Relationships, and Laziness

I enjoyed several aspects of being deployed to Iraq for a year.  One of those positives was having the opportunity to write this blog without feeling guilty about taking time away from my spousal unit. Writing is a solitary pursuit, which I seem to do best when I focus on the task. I can't write for diddly while sitting in the living room with the television on. Retiring to my CHU after the duty day was done (at least until the indirect fire alarm went off, or I got called out to go to a crime scene) allowed me to put in at least a solid hour of crafting tight paragraphs three or four times per week. While I didn't post everything I wrote, because some of it was pure crap, I was regularly exercising my dormant skills. Based on feedback from a variety of my blog readers, as well as my own self-critiques, I believe my writing improved from "Mostly Mediocre" to "Occasionally Good". This isn't false modesty by the way, as I do a lot of reading, and most of those published authors leave me in their dust. I also recognize that the authors whom I admire and respect work their butts off to achieve such results. I have asked myself a lot recently, "So, Dave, are you going to settle for your deployment blog being the zenith of your writing career, or are you going to move forward?" My ambition is to write a decent, enjoyable novel or three, and I know in both my head and my heart that no novel ever wrote itself. The big question is whether I have the inner resolve and commitment to finish the 40 or so drafts it's going to take before something is good enough to be published.
Thomas Edison's Inspiration versus Perspiration Ratio definitely applies to writing popular fiction and non-fiction.
There is another factor which I alluded to earlier in this post. I'm not sure if I'm willing to cut time and energy from my relationship, and also my civilian job, in order to write as frequently and intently as I'll need to accomplish my goals. Tonight, having pissed off my wife during a stupid argument over how precisely-centered the new shower caddy was, it's easy for me to channel my frustration into introspective journaling...Hence this longer-than-usual blog post. Sometime in the next 24 hours, I'm going to need to apologize, and my temporary visa to Isolation Land will be revoked. I'm also traveling more frequently as part of my job, which sucks more energy out of me than such trips used to. While I can always take my laptop along and write while holed up in my hotel room in the evenings, I know that it'll be tough to pass up just vegging out, resting up for the next day of workshops, facilitating planning meetings, or driving back from Spokane or the Tri-Cities for three to six hours. Ironically, I truly enjoy those activities. (Well, except for driving 'til my ass goes numb.) It's definitely the best part of my job, and I like feeling that I have  accomplished something to help my fellow Washingtonians survive the myriad disasters lurking out there. Yeah, more internal conflict...is it any wonder that I'm bald as a politician's lie?
A number of my friends have been moaning about their decisions to give up something for Lent. Not being one for organized religion, I usually view their public vows of sacrifice with some skepticism. After all, the whining about how tough it's gonna be to stop posting on FaceBook, or drinking coffee, or buying Victoria's Secret underwear seems in my opinion to devalue the act a bit. Quietly changing one's lifestyle to demonstrate humility seems much more in keeping with the Christian ideal drummed into me during Sunday School lessons 50 years ago. Having said that, I can also choose to "give up something" in order to write productively, but there's no heroism or sacrifice or altruism involved...If I want to succeed as a writer of popular fiction, I'll need to make some relatively significant changes in my life. Am I willing to do this? I'm thinking about it...but as of tonight, I just don't know.