I did something yesterday that wasn't on my bucket list before, but should have been. I had a bath at a bathing house in Hot Springs. I say "had" a bath instead of "took" a bath because it was a very passive experience, something done TO me. If I had known about it before, it would have been on my bucket list. It is a singularly unique experience.
Debra, my travel buddy, and I chose the Buckstaff Bathhouse, because it's one of the two still in operation as a bathhouse, instead of a spa. It is the most historically accurate and is celebrating its 100th anniversary this year, 1912-2012. It is also the only one actually in the National Park and operated by their staff.
I read about it online through reviews at Trip Advisor first. I decided it was an experience I would either love or hate. You see, you have to be naked to have a bath. Now, I'm not overly modest, but I didn't want to be naked in front of lots of other people. I never did the group gym shower thing when I was younger. But, I was somewhat reassured of some degree of privacy after reading the reviews. I also wasn't sure how I'd feel about someone else, a stranger, bathing me.
I would say that no one has bathed me since I was a little girl. However, Wil and I indulge in baths together sometimes in our garden tub. When we have the time and privacy, it's fun and romantic. We light candles, play easy listening music, and sometimes I have a glass of wine. And, yes, Wil has bathed me, but I don't need to say any more about that in a blog. I knew this would be totally different from that romantic experience.
Back near the turn of the century, people came to the bathhouses to bath and soak in the hot mineral waters of Hot Springs, Arkansas. They believed it was healing. The water bubbles out of the earth at nearly 150 degrees and is naturally sterile. It is piped to the bathhouses, losing some heat in the journey and arriving at a more comfortable temperature around 110 degrees. Privileged people back then had no problem with being bathed by servants, a far different world than today. The bath was and is a series of soaking, scrubbing, steaming, soaking some more, wrapping, and showering.
So, Debra and I screwed up our courage and went to the Buckstaff Bathhouse yesterday morning. We opted for the full package ($64), including a massage after the bath. The bath without massage is $30. It turns out we made a GREAT choice. We were each given a new loofah that would be ours to keep after our bath. We were escorted in a 1912 elevator, complete with the brass folding cage door, to the second floor, the ladies floor. Men are bathed on the first floor. First, we made a quick trip to the bathroom. Then, in the dressing room, we stripped in our cubicles, stored our clothes and belongings in our lockers, and announced to the attendant that we were ready, each wearing nothing but our locker key on a cord around our wrists.
We were each wrapped by the dressing room attendant in clean white sheets, toga style, and sat to wait for our bath attendants to fetch us. They arrived within a minute or two. Kathy, a middle-aged black woman, took charge of me. She was reassuring and explained everything as we went along. She had a friendly personality. She took me to a another room filled with various sized marble-walled cubicles. The cubicle she took me to was in a row of cubicles with tubs.
The tub was an old claw foot one, long and deep, filled with hot water. My sheet was whisked away and I climbed up a stool to step into the bath. I was told to sit while she turned on the bubbler. It wasn't exactly a whirlpool. The contraption that stirred the water looked like a small outboard motor, sans propeller. It came to life and really frothed up the water. Kathy took the loofah that had been issued to me when I registered and scrubbed my arms and my back, all the way down to my butt. Then she put a smooth board into the water for me to lean back on and she scrubbed my legs. After that I was left to soak.
The water was heavenly! It was hot, just a few degrees short of intolerable, but I quickly got used to it. The tub was long enough to stretch out in. My neck was cushioned on a towel. The hum of the bubbler masked the sounds of people in the room. I lounged and soaked, nearly floating in the hot water, submerged up to my neck. I knew that Debra was having the same experience in another cubicle. Kathy came by to check on me once or twice.
Twenty minutes later, she came back to fetch me. I stepped out of the tub and she wrapped me up in the sheet again. I was escorted to the steam cabinet. This is one of those love or hate experiences that I hated. My sheet was whisked away again and I stepped naked into the stainless steel steamer and sat on the small bench. The front doors were closed and the top was closed around my neck with the gap mostly filled by a towel. I immediately began to pour sweat. Kathy saw that I wasn't enjoying it and she said I would only stay in a couple of minutes. She did bring me cups of cold mineral water that I could snake my hand up to drink. That was a long 2 minutes.
She opened the steam cabinet and I was sooo glad to step out. My sheet was hastily wrapped for the 6 foot walk to the sitz bath. THAT was certainly different. The bath was a tub, vaguely shaped like a chair, with the basin for the seat. My sheet was removed and I sat clumsily into the water. My butt and lower back were submerged in hot water. My feet and legs hung over the front and my arms rested alongside. A towel was draped across me to preserve some modesty. It was a strange position, but remarkably comfortable. I soaked there for several minutes, with my own pitcher of icy mineral water to drink.
Next, I was helped up and rewrapped, a bit differently this time. I made another bathroom stop. Next, I was led to another room with 8 padded tables and helped onto one. A hot wet towel was folded for me to lie down to heat my back. My shoulders, and legs were wrapped in hot wet towels. An icy cold wet towel was draped over my head and I was left to relax...mummy style. It felt really good and in more familiar surroundings, I could have peacefully dozed.
About 20 minutes later, I was unwrapped from the towels and led to a shower in my damp sheet. It was whisked away from me again and I stepped naked into what they call a "needle shower." It was actually just 8 normal shower heads blasting me from 4 different directions, from shoulder to hip. The water was warm, but not hot. After 2 minutes or so, the water was turned off and Kathy opened the curtain for me to step out. She handed me a towel to dry off. Yes, they let ME do that for myself. Then I was wrapped into a dry sheet and led away.
At this point, Kathy turned me over to massage therapist Lena. I was pink, wrinkled, relaxed, warm and extremely clean! Lena led me to her massage cubicle where she gave me a full body massage. Everything from head to toe was massaged except for my breasts, belly, and genitals. She was very professional. She whisked away my dry sheet and used it to screen me so I could lie down, then she covered me with it. Only the body part she was rubbing at any one time was uncovered. The room was dim, music played softly, and the lotion rub was soothing.
Twenty minutes later, I was sad to get to the end of my Buckstaff bath experience. I was rewrapped and led back to the dressing room. I went back to my cubicle and locker to dress. Debra was running a little behind me, so I had time to dress, use the bathroom, dry my hair somewhat, and put on make-up. I sat in the upstairs lobby to wait for her.
We left tips for our attendants at the front desk. We both felt so pampered and relaxed. Neither of felt the embarrassment that we had feared. Kathy and the dressing room attendant were the only ones who saw me completely naked and they didn't seem to be really looking at all. Though several other women were there, I saw no one who wasn't fully covered with a sheet or towel.
Even though the building wasn't air conditioned and the weather was quite hot outside, I was never too hot indoors, except in the steam cabinet. It probably helps that we went in the morning before the temp climbed into the 90s and later up to 106. Old buildings tend to be well-ventilated and there were fans in the waiting and dressing areas. The bathing rooms in the building reminded me and Debra both of the bathrooms in the 1920's dorm we lived in back in college, with the small tiles on the floor and the marble walls and partitions. It was all very quaint.
So, I have added this to my bucket list and labeled it "Done." I highly recommend this experience! If I ever return to Hot Springs, I definitely plan to indulge again.
Tuesday, June 26, 2012
Monday, June 25, 2012
My Bucket List....so far
I have my bucket list of things I want to do before I leave this life. I want to see all 50 states (46, so far!) and I want to see all the great American iconic places. Also on the list are things I want to do. I'm doing great so far.
I've stood at the foot of Mount Rushmore and the giant redwoods. I've been to the top of the Empire State Building, the Washington Monument, and the Space Needle. I've seen the Jefferson Memorial at sunset and Broadway at midnight. I've driven across the Rockies, the Appalachians, the Ozarks, the White Mountains, the Sierra Nevadas, the Green Mountains, and several others. I've driven through the Everglades and the Badlands. I've driven past wheat fields, cotton fields, deserts, lakes and forests. I've driven in cities of all sizes. I've been down Rodeo Drive in Beverly Hills. I've followed Lewis and Clark's trail. I've driven along the Pacific Coast, the Atlantic Coast, the Gulf of Mexico, and over the overseas highway to Key West. I've crossed the US border to the north and to the south.
I've walked the Golden Gate Bridge. I've walked across Hoover Dam. I've stood beside Niagra Falls. I've ridden a horse along the Pacific Coast. I've been in both US oceans and the Gulf, as well as numerous major lakes. I've walked across the headwaters of the Mississippi River, cruised up and down it in a paddlewheel steamboat, and have been down to the end of it in Louisiana. I have watched a glacier calving. I've ridden the Staten Island Ferry. I've snorkeled in the Caribbean. I've gone parasailing. I've seen sea lions and otters in California, dolphins in the gulf, and whales in Alaska.
I've ridden on planes of all sizes (including an antique biplane), a helicopter, and even an AC130U Air Force gunship. I've ridden on cruise ships in the Caribbean and Alaska. I've ridden the subway in Atlanta, Washington DC, and Toronto. I've been on a long passenger train trip and some shorter ones. I've been on a long Greyhound bus trip. I've ridden the cable cars in San Francisco and the trollies in New Orleans. I've ridden on motorcycles, canoes, go carts, buses, kayaks, motorboats, New York taxis, catamarans, and bicycles...even one built for two.
I've toured Rock City, the White House, Alcatraz, the Hearst Castle, the Library of Congress, the Grand Ole Opry, Arlington Cemetery, Churchill Downs, the San Diego Zoo, the Smithsonians, Mayan Ruins, and Yosemite. I've been drinking on Bourbon Street. I've been gambling in Las Vegas. I've shopped at the Mall of America. I've been on Good Morning America. I've seen the changing of the guard at the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier. I've watched a Broadway show. I've been to the concerts of famous musicians. I've been to a pro football game and a pro baseball game. I've played in the snow and I've played a calliope. I've been down in Mammoth Cave and up on Stone Mountain. I've held Micky Mantle's bat. I've strolled through Boston Commons, Golden Gate Park, and Central Park. I've seen the Hollywood sign. I've ridden a lap around the Indianapolis Speedway. I've sat in the Supreme Court.
I've toured the factories where iconic American brand goods are made--Tabasco Sauce, Louisville Sluggers, Ben & Jerry's ice cream, Napa Valley wines, Cabbage Patch dolls and Maker's Mark Kentucky Bourbon. I've eaten lobster in Maine, chowder in Boston, beignets in New Orleans, pizza in Chicago, salmon in Alaska and crab cakes in Baltimore. I bought a cowboy hat in Texas, cowboy boots in Wyoming, and gold in the Black Hills. I've shopped in China Town. I've toured the homes of many great Americans--Helen Keller, Robert Frost, Norman Rockwell, and Thomas Edison. I've been from the capital of the Confederacy to the Lincoln Memorial. I've been on all the roller coasters in Disney World and to all of the parks there.
I've seen the destruction of Mount St. Helens. I've been in an earthquake. I've been in the eye of a hurricane. I've been too close to a tornado.
So, what's left? Well, just today, I bathed in Hot Springs, Arkansas. Later this week I'm going up in the St. Louis Arch. Tonight, I am in my 46th state. Still, my bucket list will not be complete. I have 4 more states to visit and a host of things left to do.
I want to see the Grand Canyon, the Alamo, the Painted Desert, and the Great Salt Lake. I want to tour Hershey Pennsylvania, Amish country, Yellowstone Park, and the US Capitol Building. I want to ride an airboat. I want to go to the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade and the Rose Parade. I want to see the Oklahoma City Memorial, the 9/11 memorial, and Pearl Harbor. I want to snow ski. I want to go up in the Statue of Liberty. I want to see the fall leaves in New England. I want to walk across the Brooklyn Bridge. I want to eat a Philly Cheesesteak in Philadelphia and see the Liberty Bell while I am there.
See? There's plenty left to do. And, heck, that's just North America! After that...on to Europe!
I've stood at the foot of Mount Rushmore and the giant redwoods. I've been to the top of the Empire State Building, the Washington Monument, and the Space Needle. I've seen the Jefferson Memorial at sunset and Broadway at midnight. I've driven across the Rockies, the Appalachians, the Ozarks, the White Mountains, the Sierra Nevadas, the Green Mountains, and several others. I've driven through the Everglades and the Badlands. I've driven past wheat fields, cotton fields, deserts, lakes and forests. I've driven in cities of all sizes. I've been down Rodeo Drive in Beverly Hills. I've followed Lewis and Clark's trail. I've driven along the Pacific Coast, the Atlantic Coast, the Gulf of Mexico, and over the overseas highway to Key West. I've crossed the US border to the north and to the south.
I've walked the Golden Gate Bridge. I've walked across Hoover Dam. I've stood beside Niagra Falls. I've ridden a horse along the Pacific Coast. I've been in both US oceans and the Gulf, as well as numerous major lakes. I've walked across the headwaters of the Mississippi River, cruised up and down it in a paddlewheel steamboat, and have been down to the end of it in Louisiana. I have watched a glacier calving. I've ridden the Staten Island Ferry. I've snorkeled in the Caribbean. I've gone parasailing. I've seen sea lions and otters in California, dolphins in the gulf, and whales in Alaska.
I've ridden on planes of all sizes (including an antique biplane), a helicopter, and even an AC130U Air Force gunship. I've ridden on cruise ships in the Caribbean and Alaska. I've ridden the subway in Atlanta, Washington DC, and Toronto. I've been on a long passenger train trip and some shorter ones. I've been on a long Greyhound bus trip. I've ridden the cable cars in San Francisco and the trollies in New Orleans. I've ridden on motorcycles, canoes, go carts, buses, kayaks, motorboats, New York taxis, catamarans, and bicycles...even one built for two.
I've toured Rock City, the White House, Alcatraz, the Hearst Castle, the Library of Congress, the Grand Ole Opry, Arlington Cemetery, Churchill Downs, the San Diego Zoo, the Smithsonians, Mayan Ruins, and Yosemite. I've been drinking on Bourbon Street. I've been gambling in Las Vegas. I've shopped at the Mall of America. I've been on Good Morning America. I've seen the changing of the guard at the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier. I've watched a Broadway show. I've been to the concerts of famous musicians. I've been to a pro football game and a pro baseball game. I've played in the snow and I've played a calliope. I've been down in Mammoth Cave and up on Stone Mountain. I've held Micky Mantle's bat. I've strolled through Boston Commons, Golden Gate Park, and Central Park. I've seen the Hollywood sign. I've ridden a lap around the Indianapolis Speedway. I've sat in the Supreme Court.
I've toured the factories where iconic American brand goods are made--Tabasco Sauce, Louisville Sluggers, Ben & Jerry's ice cream, Napa Valley wines, Cabbage Patch dolls and Maker's Mark Kentucky Bourbon. I've eaten lobster in Maine, chowder in Boston, beignets in New Orleans, pizza in Chicago, salmon in Alaska and crab cakes in Baltimore. I bought a cowboy hat in Texas, cowboy boots in Wyoming, and gold in the Black Hills. I've shopped in China Town. I've toured the homes of many great Americans--Helen Keller, Robert Frost, Norman Rockwell, and Thomas Edison. I've been from the capital of the Confederacy to the Lincoln Memorial. I've been on all the roller coasters in Disney World and to all of the parks there.
I've seen the destruction of Mount St. Helens. I've been in an earthquake. I've been in the eye of a hurricane. I've been too close to a tornado.
So, what's left? Well, just today, I bathed in Hot Springs, Arkansas. Later this week I'm going up in the St. Louis Arch. Tonight, I am in my 46th state. Still, my bucket list will not be complete. I have 4 more states to visit and a host of things left to do.
I want to see the Grand Canyon, the Alamo, the Painted Desert, and the Great Salt Lake. I want to tour Hershey Pennsylvania, Amish country, Yellowstone Park, and the US Capitol Building. I want to ride an airboat. I want to go to the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade and the Rose Parade. I want to see the Oklahoma City Memorial, the 9/11 memorial, and Pearl Harbor. I want to snow ski. I want to go up in the Statue of Liberty. I want to see the fall leaves in New England. I want to walk across the Brooklyn Bridge. I want to eat a Philly Cheesesteak in Philadelphia and see the Liberty Bell while I am there.
See? There's plenty left to do. And, heck, that's just North America! After that...on to Europe!
Wednesday, April 11, 2012
We live in paradise!
This past Sunday, Wil and I took our boat out for the first time this year. The weather was absolutely perfect! The sky was nearly cloudless. The temperature was mild. The water was flat. The boat ran like a charm.
We launched out of Navarre, at the public boat ramp adjacent to Juana's on Santa Rosa Island, just over the Navarre Beach Bridge. The boat ramp is wide, the parking plentiful, and the launching is free! We cruised toward Destin, enjoying the sights along the way. At an easy pace, it took about an hour to get to Destin Pass.
Normally, we don't take our small boat (19 ft.) out into the Gulf. But when the water is so flat, the Gulf is irresistible. So, we headed out through the pass. Just a few yards outside the pass, the dolphins appeared. Just outside Destin Pass is the place most likely to see dolphins. Five dolphins were frolicking in the water. Actually, I can't be sure they were "frolicking," but on such a gorgeous day, it seemed that way.
We followed a group of two and then another group of three, back and forth, and around and around our boat. They are fast swimmers and change direction quickly. Our small boat is maneuverable enough follow them around. They swam just under the surface, easy to spot in the clear emerald water. They seemed to play with us as they swam around, darting close, then speeding away. The area was busy with boats, big and small. Parasailers were out and the beaches a couple of hundred yards away were thick with tourists. None of this seemed to faze the dolphins.
Eventually, the dolphins swam a bit farther away, perhaps to play with other boaters, and we took a short cruise down the coast. I took photos of the crowded beaches in front of the condos. It struck both Wil and I that most of those people on the beach had saved up and spent a lot of money to come to Destin for a vacation. And yet, there we were, only a short way from home. It struck me how lucky we are to live in a place where many people come to vacation.
Former Pensacola mayor Vince Whibbs coined this phrase to describe Pensacola, "Where thousands live the way millions wish they could." This phrase described the whole Emerald Coast area. That was the phrase that popped into my mind as Wil and I talked about how lucky we are to live where we do.
We anchored our boat at Crab Island, which is not actually an island, but a huge barely submerged sand bar. It's a favorite place for boaters to anchor and play in the shallow water. There were quite a few boats there, but nothing like the crowds that will appear when the weather gets really hot. Then the boats are crowded so close together you can practically jump from boat to boat. There's a floating snack bar with live music in the summer, a floating water slide, a floating trampoline, and tiny boats and wave runners that motor around selling ice cream and pizza.
It wasn't that crowded and commercial last weekend, as the weather was still relatively calm and most of the Spring Break crowd have already departed. Still, it is a great place to stop and people watch. We were amused by the big black labrador dog that kept jumping out of a boat and into the water to play fetch. We were more amused by the marine patrol writing a ticket for people in a pontoon boat that probably didn't have the required safety equipment.
You see young women who look amazing in their bikinis and older ladies who shouldn't be wearing them anymore. The young men are showing off their physiques, trying to impress the ladies. The older gentlemen in baggy plaid swimsuits patiently captain pontoon boats full of family. Huge yachts skirt the edge of the island, too large to venture into the shallower water. You see a lot of beer, a lot of people sunning themselves, and many different kinds and sizes of boats. You don't see enough people using sunblock or enough people who use good boating etiquette.
After we ate our picnic lunch, it was time to head home. It was a pleasant cruise back to Navarre. We trailered the boat, flushed the engine, drove to a self-serve car wash to wash the boat, then put the boat back in the storage yard. For us, it was a fun cruise, just the first of many we will take this spring, summer, and fall.
Boating in Santa Rosa Sound and in the Gulf is a common event for us. And, anytime we want, we can drive a couple of short miles to the beach and walk along the sugar white sands. I can even walk a hundred yards or so through my own neighborhood to the edge of the Sound. I own more swimsuits than I do winter coats. We live the way most people can only occasionally vacation. I never want to forget how lucky I am to live in this paradise.
We launched out of Navarre, at the public boat ramp adjacent to Juana's on Santa Rosa Island, just over the Navarre Beach Bridge. The boat ramp is wide, the parking plentiful, and the launching is free! We cruised toward Destin, enjoying the sights along the way. At an easy pace, it took about an hour to get to Destin Pass.
Normally, we don't take our small boat (19 ft.) out into the Gulf. But when the water is so flat, the Gulf is irresistible. So, we headed out through the pass. Just a few yards outside the pass, the dolphins appeared. Just outside Destin Pass is the place most likely to see dolphins. Five dolphins were frolicking in the water. Actually, I can't be sure they were "frolicking," but on such a gorgeous day, it seemed that way.
We followed a group of two and then another group of three, back and forth, and around and around our boat. They are fast swimmers and change direction quickly. Our small boat is maneuverable enough follow them around. They swam just under the surface, easy to spot in the clear emerald water. They seemed to play with us as they swam around, darting close, then speeding away. The area was busy with boats, big and small. Parasailers were out and the beaches a couple of hundred yards away were thick with tourists. None of this seemed to faze the dolphins.
Eventually, the dolphins swam a bit farther away, perhaps to play with other boaters, and we took a short cruise down the coast. I took photos of the crowded beaches in front of the condos. It struck both Wil and I that most of those people on the beach had saved up and spent a lot of money to come to Destin for a vacation. And yet, there we were, only a short way from home. It struck me how lucky we are to live in a place where many people come to vacation.
Former Pensacola mayor Vince Whibbs coined this phrase to describe Pensacola, "Where thousands live the way millions wish they could." This phrase described the whole Emerald Coast area. That was the phrase that popped into my mind as Wil and I talked about how lucky we are to live where we do.
We anchored our boat at Crab Island, which is not actually an island, but a huge barely submerged sand bar. It's a favorite place for boaters to anchor and play in the shallow water. There were quite a few boats there, but nothing like the crowds that will appear when the weather gets really hot. Then the boats are crowded so close together you can practically jump from boat to boat. There's a floating snack bar with live music in the summer, a floating water slide, a floating trampoline, and tiny boats and wave runners that motor around selling ice cream and pizza.
It wasn't that crowded and commercial last weekend, as the weather was still relatively calm and most of the Spring Break crowd have already departed. Still, it is a great place to stop and people watch. We were amused by the big black labrador dog that kept jumping out of a boat and into the water to play fetch. We were more amused by the marine patrol writing a ticket for people in a pontoon boat that probably didn't have the required safety equipment.
You see young women who look amazing in their bikinis and older ladies who shouldn't be wearing them anymore. The young men are showing off their physiques, trying to impress the ladies. The older gentlemen in baggy plaid swimsuits patiently captain pontoon boats full of family. Huge yachts skirt the edge of the island, too large to venture into the shallower water. You see a lot of beer, a lot of people sunning themselves, and many different kinds and sizes of boats. You don't see enough people using sunblock or enough people who use good boating etiquette.
After we ate our picnic lunch, it was time to head home. It was a pleasant cruise back to Navarre. We trailered the boat, flushed the engine, drove to a self-serve car wash to wash the boat, then put the boat back in the storage yard. For us, it was a fun cruise, just the first of many we will take this spring, summer, and fall.
Boating in Santa Rosa Sound and in the Gulf is a common event for us. And, anytime we want, we can drive a couple of short miles to the beach and walk along the sugar white sands. I can even walk a hundred yards or so through my own neighborhood to the edge of the Sound. I own more swimsuits than I do winter coats. We live the way most people can only occasionally vacation. I never want to forget how lucky I am to live in this paradise.
Wednesday, November 30, 2011
I played my card...
Every now and then, like every woman, I've played that helpless female card to elicit some man's sympathy and get help. It works really well getting your bag into an overhead bin on an airplane. But, most of the time, I keep that card put away and shoulder my own burdens. I put on that "I am woman, hear me roar" attitude.
Today I found out that I have another trump card. It's the "Air Force wife whose husband is deployed" card. I unintentionally used it today and discovered its power. I certainly don't plan to use it often, but it sure is nice to have it in my hand when I really need it.
Here's today's tale...
Back on November 14, Jacob rear-ended someone in his car in Montgomery, Alabama, where he goes to college. He called USAA and his car was towed to a collision center there. It had some body work and mechanical work, suspension and wheel on the front right. We paid the $500 deductible and Jacob got the car back just in time to drive it home for Thanksgiving.
While he was home, I sent him to Pensacola Honda with his car for regular maintenance. At 90K miles, it needed several things done, another $500. In addition to that, Honda discovered that the car had a leak at a fitting on the back of the radiator, not something fixable, so the whole radiator would have to be replaced. The leak was probably a result of the accident, but hard to prove. Estimated cost: $708.
At Jacob's suggestion, Wil called USAA anyway. They sent another adjuster out to look at the car at Honda. But before USAA could inspect the car again, Wil deployed. Jacob had to go back to school without his car, so Steve drove him. The car was left at Pensacola Honda and I had to take responsibility.
I didn't hear from USAA, but I got a phone message for Wil from the collision center in Montgomery and a phone call from Honda wanting to know whether to fix the car or not. By the time I got home yesterday, it was too late to call anyone, so I went online to see if there was any information in our account on USAA's website. It looked as if USAA was turning it back over to the collision center in Montgomery. I groaned, thinking that somehow we'd have to get the car back to Montgomery to have it repaired.
Promptly at 8:00 am today, I got someone to cover my class so that I could start making calls. I decided to start with the collision center in Montgomery, because USAA's report said to contact them for details. The phone message had been from a guy named Larry. I swear his voice sounded just like Larry the Cable Guy.
I introduced myself to him on the phone and explained that he couldn't talk to Wil, because he was deployed. I had no intention of eliciting sympathy. I just wanted to explain why I called instead of Wil. However, Larry immediately told me not to worry about anything, that he would take care of everything for me. He came across as sympathetic, helpful, and even a bit protective. I was a little taken aback, but, oh well, I just went along with it!
He got the name and number of my service advisor, Bob, at Pensacola Honda, promised to take care of it for me and call me back with the details. As soon as I hung up, I called Bob to give him a heads up. Within minutes, Larry called back. He said he'd told Pensacola Honda to order me a new radiator. Then he said, "I told them to expedite it and get you back on the road as soon as possible. It should be ready by tomorrow afternoon."
He sounded as if he thought I was stranded without a car and needed him to take charge and rescue me. Of course, I have my own car and Jacob was already back at school, so they didn't really need to have the new radiator sent overnight, but I surely wasn't going to tell him that! If it made Larry feel good to be my rescuer, far be it from me to deny him that satisfaction!
I did double-check to make sure USAA was going to pay for the repair. He reassured me they would. Then he said, "Now, if you have any problems or you don't get your car back tomorrow, or Friday at the latest, you just call me back and I'll take care of it." Of course I thanked him profusely.
In hindsight, I may have gushed my thanks with a little extra southern accent. Though he didn't actually say it, I could almost hear him thinking, "Now, now, don't you worry your pretty little head about it, God bless you!" I could envision his chest puffed out ready to fight my car repair battles for me--poor little Air Force wife whose big strong husband is away fighting for truth, justice, and the American way.
So, I guess I played that card today and let Larry be my hero. No harm was done, the car will get repaired, and I don't have to pay $708. Of course, USAA had already decided to cover the repair cost, but it was really nice to let Larry handle the details.
I'm tucking my "poor little Air Force wife whose husband is deployed" card safely away, just in case I ever need it again.
Today I found out that I have another trump card. It's the "Air Force wife whose husband is deployed" card. I unintentionally used it today and discovered its power. I certainly don't plan to use it often, but it sure is nice to have it in my hand when I really need it.
Here's today's tale...
Back on November 14, Jacob rear-ended someone in his car in Montgomery, Alabama, where he goes to college. He called USAA and his car was towed to a collision center there. It had some body work and mechanical work, suspension and wheel on the front right. We paid the $500 deductible and Jacob got the car back just in time to drive it home for Thanksgiving.
While he was home, I sent him to Pensacola Honda with his car for regular maintenance. At 90K miles, it needed several things done, another $500. In addition to that, Honda discovered that the car had a leak at a fitting on the back of the radiator, not something fixable, so the whole radiator would have to be replaced. The leak was probably a result of the accident, but hard to prove. Estimated cost: $708.
At Jacob's suggestion, Wil called USAA anyway. They sent another adjuster out to look at the car at Honda. But before USAA could inspect the car again, Wil deployed. Jacob had to go back to school without his car, so Steve drove him. The car was left at Pensacola Honda and I had to take responsibility.
I didn't hear from USAA, but I got a phone message for Wil from the collision center in Montgomery and a phone call from Honda wanting to know whether to fix the car or not. By the time I got home yesterday, it was too late to call anyone, so I went online to see if there was any information in our account on USAA's website. It looked as if USAA was turning it back over to the collision center in Montgomery. I groaned, thinking that somehow we'd have to get the car back to Montgomery to have it repaired.
Promptly at 8:00 am today, I got someone to cover my class so that I could start making calls. I decided to start with the collision center in Montgomery, because USAA's report said to contact them for details. The phone message had been from a guy named Larry. I swear his voice sounded just like Larry the Cable Guy.
I introduced myself to him on the phone and explained that he couldn't talk to Wil, because he was deployed. I had no intention of eliciting sympathy. I just wanted to explain why I called instead of Wil. However, Larry immediately told me not to worry about anything, that he would take care of everything for me. He came across as sympathetic, helpful, and even a bit protective. I was a little taken aback, but, oh well, I just went along with it!
He got the name and number of my service advisor, Bob, at Pensacola Honda, promised to take care of it for me and call me back with the details. As soon as I hung up, I called Bob to give him a heads up. Within minutes, Larry called back. He said he'd told Pensacola Honda to order me a new radiator. Then he said, "I told them to expedite it and get you back on the road as soon as possible. It should be ready by tomorrow afternoon."
He sounded as if he thought I was stranded without a car and needed him to take charge and rescue me. Of course, I have my own car and Jacob was already back at school, so they didn't really need to have the new radiator sent overnight, but I surely wasn't going to tell him that! If it made Larry feel good to be my rescuer, far be it from me to deny him that satisfaction!
I did double-check to make sure USAA was going to pay for the repair. He reassured me they would. Then he said, "Now, if you have any problems or you don't get your car back tomorrow, or Friday at the latest, you just call me back and I'll take care of it." Of course I thanked him profusely.
In hindsight, I may have gushed my thanks with a little extra southern accent. Though he didn't actually say it, I could almost hear him thinking, "Now, now, don't you worry your pretty little head about it, God bless you!" I could envision his chest puffed out ready to fight my car repair battles for me--poor little Air Force wife whose big strong husband is away fighting for truth, justice, and the American way.
So, I guess I played that card today and let Larry be my hero. No harm was done, the car will get repaired, and I don't have to pay $708. Of course, USAA had already decided to cover the repair cost, but it was really nice to let Larry handle the details.
I'm tucking my "poor little Air Force wife whose husband is deployed" card safely away, just in case I ever need it again.
Saturday, November 26, 2011
Wil is gone...again
Wil was home 86 days before deploying again. He was trying to remember how many deployments he has done. He thinks this is number 19. I think it might be number 20. Regardless, it is too many.
I dread the thought of Wil being away AGAIN. On his last deployment, in addition to my sadness and loneliness, so many things broke or went awry. This time, he has worked so hard for the last month installing new things and fixing things and doing maintenance on things to try to prevent a repeat of last time. So, the pond filter is redone, the doors have been replaced with new ones, the porches are tiled--front and back, everything is trimmed and grouted and caulked, there's a new ceiling fan in the living room, the pond lights are replaced, new bulbs are in many places, the sprinkler system is turned off for the winter, the lawn has been mowed for last time, the outdoor things are winterized, all the timers are checked and set, and enough bug killer has been applied to our lawn to make us eligible for the Super Fund. So, hopefully, everything will be okay.
Today was sad. I was sad for me. But, even though I was sad for myself, it was much worse for others. When we first arrived at Wil's squadron, we went upstairs to get Wil's written orders from the civilian guy in charge of mobility. In his cubicle, a female flight engineer was slumped in the corner crying. Wil asked if she was okay. She could only nod as the tears poured silently down her face. The civilian guy was retired Air Force. He said, "I was in for 23 years and deployments never got any easier." After we walked out, Wil told me that the crying engineer has young children and would be away from them over the holidays. While Wil's deployment has a possibility of being shorter, she is going to a different location and hers is nearly guaranteed to be the full 90 days.
Then Wil told me that he would have switched with her, if he could have. The compassionate side of me wished he could have and gotten her back to her children sooner. The selfish side of me was happy that he couldn't trade with her, so I might get him back earlier. In any case, seeing her cry made tears well up in my eyes, but I managed to keep them from spilling. We saw her later, still red-eyed, but calm. I realized she had come to the base earlier than everyone else so that she would have time to cry and compose herself before time to go.
I watched so many young families. I watched men in their desert uniforms cradling babies in their arms or bouncing toddlers on their knees while young wives watched sadly. They were hugging their children and kissing their babies knowing how much their children would grow and change in their absence. I ached for them, knowing I had it much better without children to raise alone in Wil's absence.
I stayed with Wil until he had to board his bus. That last hug and kiss was difficult. It was so hard to let him go. It's the most wrenching feeling when I loosen my hold and let him walk away. I hugged a support post on the outdoor porch area of the building and watched Wil and the guys board the bus. I waited until he was seated by the window and we could give one more wave and I could blow one more kiss. Then I turned and walked away. Every step was difficult.
When I got to the parking lot, I could see the top of Wil's bus over the fence as it pulled away. Other wives were leaving, too, strapping kids into car seats. The young children were oblivious to the sadness of the occasion, but all of us wives were very somber.
I was weepy on the drive home, but not really sobbing...until I passed a church with a changeable sign announcing an upcoming musical called, "I'll Be Home for Christmas." Knowing that Wil will not be home for Christmas made me break down and sob when I read the sign. The moment passed, but the tears kept falling.
The hardest part of Wil's leaving, next to actually letting him go after that last hug, is coming home to an empty quiet house. Fortunately, my wonderful son was home this time, waiting for me with hugs and margaritas and really good chocolate. We got a pizza, settled in on the couch with our goodies, and watched an old Rock Hudson/Gina Lollabrigida movie.
Now I'm writing. Talking and writing make me feel better, not good, but better. People who have never done it have no idea how hard it is to send a loved one go off to war. What I hear from people all the time is "Three months isn't that long, at least it's not a year" and "At least you had him home for Thanksgiving." Those things do not make me feel better. It's like people are trying to say that my sadness isn't valid and I'm not grateful for the things I have. I'd much rather people validate my feelings with nothing more than "I'm so sorry Wil has to be away."
Sigh. I have a feeling I'll be blogging often while Wil is away. So, if you are interested, stay posted.
I dread the thought of Wil being away AGAIN. On his last deployment, in addition to my sadness and loneliness, so many things broke or went awry. This time, he has worked so hard for the last month installing new things and fixing things and doing maintenance on things to try to prevent a repeat of last time. So, the pond filter is redone, the doors have been replaced with new ones, the porches are tiled--front and back, everything is trimmed and grouted and caulked, there's a new ceiling fan in the living room, the pond lights are replaced, new bulbs are in many places, the sprinkler system is turned off for the winter, the lawn has been mowed for last time, the outdoor things are winterized, all the timers are checked and set, and enough bug killer has been applied to our lawn to make us eligible for the Super Fund. So, hopefully, everything will be okay.
Today was sad. I was sad for me. But, even though I was sad for myself, it was much worse for others. When we first arrived at Wil's squadron, we went upstairs to get Wil's written orders from the civilian guy in charge of mobility. In his cubicle, a female flight engineer was slumped in the corner crying. Wil asked if she was okay. She could only nod as the tears poured silently down her face. The civilian guy was retired Air Force. He said, "I was in for 23 years and deployments never got any easier." After we walked out, Wil told me that the crying engineer has young children and would be away from them over the holidays. While Wil's deployment has a possibility of being shorter, she is going to a different location and hers is nearly guaranteed to be the full 90 days.
Then Wil told me that he would have switched with her, if he could have. The compassionate side of me wished he could have and gotten her back to her children sooner. The selfish side of me was happy that he couldn't trade with her, so I might get him back earlier. In any case, seeing her cry made tears well up in my eyes, but I managed to keep them from spilling. We saw her later, still red-eyed, but calm. I realized she had come to the base earlier than everyone else so that she would have time to cry and compose herself before time to go.
I watched so many young families. I watched men in their desert uniforms cradling babies in their arms or bouncing toddlers on their knees while young wives watched sadly. They were hugging their children and kissing their babies knowing how much their children would grow and change in their absence. I ached for them, knowing I had it much better without children to raise alone in Wil's absence.
I stayed with Wil until he had to board his bus. That last hug and kiss was difficult. It was so hard to let him go. It's the most wrenching feeling when I loosen my hold and let him walk away. I hugged a support post on the outdoor porch area of the building and watched Wil and the guys board the bus. I waited until he was seated by the window and we could give one more wave and I could blow one more kiss. Then I turned and walked away. Every step was difficult.
When I got to the parking lot, I could see the top of Wil's bus over the fence as it pulled away. Other wives were leaving, too, strapping kids into car seats. The young children were oblivious to the sadness of the occasion, but all of us wives were very somber.
I was weepy on the drive home, but not really sobbing...until I passed a church with a changeable sign announcing an upcoming musical called, "I'll Be Home for Christmas." Knowing that Wil will not be home for Christmas made me break down and sob when I read the sign. The moment passed, but the tears kept falling.
The hardest part of Wil's leaving, next to actually letting him go after that last hug, is coming home to an empty quiet house. Fortunately, my wonderful son was home this time, waiting for me with hugs and margaritas and really good chocolate. We got a pizza, settled in on the couch with our goodies, and watched an old Rock Hudson/Gina Lollabrigida movie.
Now I'm writing. Talking and writing make me feel better, not good, but better. People who have never done it have no idea how hard it is to send a loved one go off to war. What I hear from people all the time is "Three months isn't that long, at least it's not a year" and "At least you had him home for Thanksgiving." Those things do not make me feel better. It's like people are trying to say that my sadness isn't valid and I'm not grateful for the things I have. I'd much rather people validate my feelings with nothing more than "I'm so sorry Wil has to be away."
Sigh. I have a feeling I'll be blogging often while Wil is away. So, if you are interested, stay posted.
Friday, October 28, 2011
I love and hate the USAF
Time to write about my love/hate relationship with the USAF. Most of the time I love them, even though I am often exasperated. The USAF provides Wil and I with income, security, insurance, base privileges, recreation, tax-free shopping, and other benefits. There is quite a bit to love about it. The people I have met through Wil's AF job all have all been very nice. As an AF spouse, I've gotten to do and see some really cool things that others only dream of. So, before I begin my ranting and whining, let me be clear that I think the USAF is a wonderful institution.
HOWEVER, decisions and plans change like the wind. It's great for operational security, but bad for families and their plans. Also, this 10-year war is starting to stretch the troops thin. USAF Special Operations is short on flight engineers. Since that is Wil's career field, it affects him greatly. AND, what affects Wil affects me and the rest of the family.
Wil arrived home from deployment August 31. He had a week off when he got home. Then he spent a couple of weeks out-processing from training squadron where he had been instructing and then in-processing back into his previous combat squadron. His 2 1/2 years without deploying was nice as long as he was teaching. Now that is over and it is back to the reality of being in a short-handed combat squadron.
On October 15, Wil was put on alert status. That means that he can't travel more than about 25-30 miles from home in any direction. His boundaries are Pensacola to the west, somewhere past Destin to the east and I-10 to the north. This primary alert crew must be ready to deploy immediately, if needed. This lasts until Nov. 15.
Recently, he was notified that when his alert status ends Nov. 15, he was going on secondary alert status for a month, which means his leash is longer, because he would have a little longer to get ready to deploy. Sheesh. But we barely got reconciled to all of that when he got a bombshell today that changed everything. His deployment was moved up from the end of December to the end of November. He's no longer going on secondary alert, because he'll be deploying.
There's good and bad about deploying early. Obviously, I am not happy that his time at home will be less than 3 months. It seems like he just got back! Worst of all, he will miss Christmas. Bye-bye, Merry Christmas. Hello, Blue Christmas. No squadron Christmas party. IF I go to my faculty Christmas party, I'll be going stag. Ditto for the family Christmas party. No decorations on the outside of the house, because I can't take them down. I'll be putting up the Christmas tree and taking it down by myself. And even though I'll hopefully have Jacob here for Christmas Eve and Christmas morning, I'll spend part of Christmas Day alone. Not fun.
HOWEVER, there are some positives. He's going to a different (read: safer) location. There is a slim possibility that his deployment may be shorter. Even if he does stay the whole 90 days, he'll be home for Spring Break. He'll be home before the lawn needs mowing again. Jacob will be home for a month, approximately Dec. 10 to Jan. 8, so I won't be alone the whole time.
I am trying to be positive. Heck, knowing AFSOC, this could all change tomorrow!
Earlier this week, Wil told me that everyone at his squadron was getting 1/2 day off Friday (today) and it was going to be "Take Back Spooky Island" time. It was more or less going to be a party. He said if I could get off 1/2 day, we'd take the boat out and party with them. I spent 3 days looking for a sub with no luck. Do you have any idea how hard it is to get a sub for Friday afternoon on short notice??? By Thursday afternoon, I was just about to call the sub line and take whatever I could get. Then Wil called me. Yup, the whole thing had been called off. The excuse was a forecast of inclement weather (that never came). All that stress and worry and planning for naught. I am just grateful it got called off before I called the sub-line.
Yes, USAF, I love you dearly. BUT, like a husband, you can be infuriating at times. It's true that no one can break your heart unless you truly love them. So, take my husband away early, USAF. You know I'll be unhappy and distraught and miserable for a time, but you know I'll love you anyway.
HOWEVER, decisions and plans change like the wind. It's great for operational security, but bad for families and their plans. Also, this 10-year war is starting to stretch the troops thin. USAF Special Operations is short on flight engineers. Since that is Wil's career field, it affects him greatly. AND, what affects Wil affects me and the rest of the family.
Wil arrived home from deployment August 31. He had a week off when he got home. Then he spent a couple of weeks out-processing from training squadron where he had been instructing and then in-processing back into his previous combat squadron. His 2 1/2 years without deploying was nice as long as he was teaching. Now that is over and it is back to the reality of being in a short-handed combat squadron.
On October 15, Wil was put on alert status. That means that he can't travel more than about 25-30 miles from home in any direction. His boundaries are Pensacola to the west, somewhere past Destin to the east and I-10 to the north. This primary alert crew must be ready to deploy immediately, if needed. This lasts until Nov. 15.
Recently, he was notified that when his alert status ends Nov. 15, he was going on secondary alert status for a month, which means his leash is longer, because he would have a little longer to get ready to deploy. Sheesh. But we barely got reconciled to all of that when he got a bombshell today that changed everything. His deployment was moved up from the end of December to the end of November. He's no longer going on secondary alert, because he'll be deploying.
There's good and bad about deploying early. Obviously, I am not happy that his time at home will be less than 3 months. It seems like he just got back! Worst of all, he will miss Christmas. Bye-bye, Merry Christmas. Hello, Blue Christmas. No squadron Christmas party. IF I go to my faculty Christmas party, I'll be going stag. Ditto for the family Christmas party. No decorations on the outside of the house, because I can't take them down. I'll be putting up the Christmas tree and taking it down by myself. And even though I'll hopefully have Jacob here for Christmas Eve and Christmas morning, I'll spend part of Christmas Day alone. Not fun.
HOWEVER, there are some positives. He's going to a different (read: safer) location. There is a slim possibility that his deployment may be shorter. Even if he does stay the whole 90 days, he'll be home for Spring Break. He'll be home before the lawn needs mowing again. Jacob will be home for a month, approximately Dec. 10 to Jan. 8, so I won't be alone the whole time.
I am trying to be positive. Heck, knowing AFSOC, this could all change tomorrow!
Earlier this week, Wil told me that everyone at his squadron was getting 1/2 day off Friday (today) and it was going to be "Take Back Spooky Island" time. It was more or less going to be a party. He said if I could get off 1/2 day, we'd take the boat out and party with them. I spent 3 days looking for a sub with no luck. Do you have any idea how hard it is to get a sub for Friday afternoon on short notice??? By Thursday afternoon, I was just about to call the sub line and take whatever I could get. Then Wil called me. Yup, the whole thing had been called off. The excuse was a forecast of inclement weather (that never came). All that stress and worry and planning for naught. I am just grateful it got called off before I called the sub-line.
Yes, USAF, I love you dearly. BUT, like a husband, you can be infuriating at times. It's true that no one can break your heart unless you truly love them. So, take my husband away early, USAF. You know I'll be unhappy and distraught and miserable for a time, but you know I'll love you anyway.
Wednesday, October 5, 2011
R.I.P. Steve Jobs
The world is a better place because he lived. He will be so greatly missed, but his legacy will live on forever.
In my house, you can find 1 MacBook, 1 MacBook Pro, 1 Mac Mini, 2 iPhones, 1 iPad, 1 Airport Extreme, 1 Apple TV, 2 iPods, and 2 iPod shuffles.
That count does not include the First Generation iPhone, the iPhone 3, and the iBook that are no longer in use. It also does not include the 1986 MacPlus in storage.
When my son is home from college, you can add another MacBook Pro and iPhone.
Thank you, Steve Jobs. Apple forever.
In my house, you can find 1 MacBook, 1 MacBook Pro, 1 Mac Mini, 2 iPhones, 1 iPad, 1 Airport Extreme, 1 Apple TV, 2 iPods, and 2 iPod shuffles.
That count does not include the First Generation iPhone, the iPhone 3, and the iBook that are no longer in use. It also does not include the 1986 MacPlus in storage.
When my son is home from college, you can add another MacBook Pro and iPhone.
Thank you, Steve Jobs. Apple forever.
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