Blue

Belonging to someone and being apart is infinitely more lonely than being alone.

First Snow

If the ground temperature drops a little further, we may end up with a White Christmas here at Spangdahlem. We’ve had light snowfall yesterday afternoon, overnight, and all day today, but the thermometer is holding just above freezing. Right now there is just enough accumulation to put a cap on all the fence posts and hand-rails and turn the plowed fields on either side of the autobahn from brown to a dignified salt-and-pepper mix.

The forecasters are predicting that the temperature will fall just below 0 (Celcius) and hold there for the week ahead, but they’re also calling for clear skies, so we’ll see if this cloud-front moves further East or stays to grant us more snow…

I just got (on loan) a second bed in my house, thanks to Larry and Patty, who had an extra one in storage. It’s all in pieces in my 2nd bedroom, but I’ll assemble it tonight or tomorrow, in anticipation of Joel and Avery’s visit just before the New Year.
The rest of my week will be focused around packing and cleaning before I leave!

A Morning Walk

Out for a Tuesday morning walk

We had to climb over/around this sailboat (which had been blown aground in the storm a week prior) to get out on the dock.

Heading over to the sailboat. My right hand is reaching for the ring, but she doesn’t even suspect that it’s coming!

We stood out there for a while, watching the river and talking.

working up to the big moment…!

In case you didn’t notice my right hand in the last picture…the box comes out!

Yes, taking a knee on a wet dock full of goose poop was worth the result.

Well, what does it look like she said?

One for the camera!

success!

Hello

I’ve not given up on this thing, I’ve just allowed the rest of my life to get way too busy. Aside from work I’m currently involved in the high school youth ministry at the chapel (2 nights/week) and an adult biblestudy on Weds evenings. I have also been coaching a middle school soccer team, but our season wrapped up last week. We did really well during the regular season, but unfortunately we were knocked out in the first round of the championship.

We’ve got Weds off for Veteran’s day, and only 2 weeks stand between me and Thanksgiving!

Being an Exec

I’m not sick any more.

Work has been a little crazy recently.
Chief told me today, “You know LT, being an exec is really a lose-lose situation. You’ll always be over-tasked by the boss, and he’ll always be chewing on you about some thing or another. Really, that’s just the way it is, but I think you’ll be fine because you’re pretty used to taking your knocks and moving on.”

That is a pretty good summary of my job most of the time. I spend my days juggling too many balls, and trying to decide which ones will have the least fallout when I drop them. …then I have to pray that the priorities I picked align with my boss’s…and so far, they do.

Another way of explaining it is that being an exec is all about keeping your boss out of hot water. I don’t have enough rank or experience to ensure that everything goes smoothly and that he never has any complaints, but I can learn the system well enough to figure out how to foresee storms and try to handle about 50% of the issues so that he can effectively handle the 50% that are too big or complex for me (those numbers are fictional, for analogy purposes only)…

The bottom line is that if I know he’s not really in hot water, then I don’t mind getting yelled at/scolded/corrected/chewed on. I’m pretty content knowing that work is getting done, that I’m learning, and that he’s getting the information that he needs to know.

Most of the time he allows me the rational hours of 7-5:30 so that I still have time to coach soccer and be involved with Club Beyond.

I fill the rest of my time with Megan, family, and a few far-flung friends. Skype is a wonderful tool.

sick

I’m sick. Home from work, but feeling antsy about all the things left undone at the office. Lying around all day makes me feel like a slob. Headaches and fevers and coughs make me feel like a wreck. Chilly German weather doesn’t help either.
I’m avoiding my house, because I hate being sick and alone, so I’m camping out over at Larry’s place. Also, they have medicine here -which I dislike taking, but it does help…
I hate being sick.
The end.

part 1: the ascent

As promised:
We tackled the First (pronounced like “fierce” with a “t” on the end) hike on Saturday morning. The weather was cool and crisp, and our faithful guides, Zack and Phil admitted that they had gotten lost on this hike last year, but would do their best to take us safely to the top and back today.
Their error the year prior had been due to heavy cloud cover drifting across the mountain tops, and given our semi-overcast morning, it looked as if things might get foggy near the summit…
…nevertheless, we set out with high spirits.
Our adventure began with a gondola ride from the valley floor to the trail-head, several hundred feet up a sheer rock face. We fit eight to a gondola, and I was surprised to learn that the only tangible safety mechanism our car contained was a regular door with a knob-and-spring latch! There were only some small faded stickers on the window depicting the things we shouldn’t do (i.e. jump out the door in mid-air) … but we got no safety brief, no harness or key or parachute…Europeans must underestimate American tourists.
The ride up went smoothly, and we all spent most of the time gawking through the glass at rock climbers splayed against the cliff-face below.
(It’s worth noting at this point that Megan wouldn’t let me try and rock the car as we glided upwards)

Once at the top, a quick cellphone check (emergency planning) and map consultation took place and we were off, already well above the valley, but with the head and shoulders of the mountain disappearing into the clouds above us.
Our path was a well-maintained gravel tractor road with wire fence and rocky pasture on either side. Most of the local population lives down in the valley, and the concept of having all your herds and pastures sitting roughly a thousand feet above your farmhouse struck me as very odd!
You may already know this, but almost all farm animals in the rural areas of Switzerland wear bells around their necks. The size of each bell is generally proportional to the size of the livestock, and they serve their purpose in a charmingly efficient way –that is, they allow the herdsman to locate his beasts at a distance, on a foggy, uneven mountain slope. There wasn’t really anything beautiful or musical about the bells, and as they are fastened around the necks of constantly-grazing animals, they clonk every time the beast moves its’ jaw or head…which, in the fog, sounded similar to a double-fistful of ball-bearings being dropped down a long set of copper stairs
“Clonk…clonk clonk-donk clonk-bonk-donk …donk donk donk-clonk-bonk bonk bonk bonk donk!”
…fading in and out as we drew closer to, and then passed farther from, the herds. At one point we had a flock of sheep to our right and a herd of cows to our left. All we could see was the gravel and fog as we climbed the hill, but we heard a tone-deaf chorus that would make the Blue Oyster Cult jump for joy!
The track eventually split from the tractor road, and became a narrow dirt path hemmed by dewy tufts of grass, which slowly faded into a stony scratch, switchbacking it’s way up the slope.
Without fail, every time I would begin to wonder if Megan and I were still in the right course, we would spot another marker a little further down the path. Our route was marked by a white-red-white pattern painted onto the largest and most permanent outcroppings along the trail, but many of the markers were weather-beaten and some were well-nigh invisible! We never lost the trail though, and and soon Megan and I found ourselves at the front of the pack. A little while later we were out in front, building up a lead that increased all morning until we found ourselves at the summit, gazing out into a shifting mass of white cloud that would draw back every once in a while to grant us a glimpse of the valley below, full of evergreens and brown Chalet roofs, dotted with round lakes and veined with spidery grey roads. After gazed down a while, we realized that across the valley there were snowbound peaks stretching even further up -at least twice as high as we had just climbed! The only other mountain vista that I have seen in my life that amazed me as much as these was seeing Mt. McKinley standing alone and proud in Alaska, stabbing through the clouds on my flight into Fairbanks, and here in Switzerland I had a whole host of mountains, old and regal and secure. It was easy to understand then why Switzerland feels no need to protect themselves from other countries, even in the midst of two World Wars that ravaged the rest of Europe. On the shoulders of these giants they could lean in peace and safety, undisturbed by the chaos that swirled over the rest of the continent.
At the peak was a simple metal sign around which we all sat and ate, shivering in the wind and our sweat-dampened shirts. It took us over two hours to climb, and we had only surmounted one of the smaller peaks in the region; even so, it was truly amazing to see with my own eyes a mountain range that almost every man, woman and boy has read stories about.
(I also found myself trying to envision Hannibal and his elephants winding their way through the valleys and over the peaks to descend on Rome…)
We reached the top!

That’s it for now. Pictures to follow shortly.

Switzerland

Dear Everyone,

August is over. September is here, and it’s already chilly and overcast. The days are getting noticeably shorter, and I’ve started using the heater in my bedroom overnight.
Megan flew in for a visit over Labor Day weekend. Last time she came to visit, my car didn’t survive the trip back from the airport in Frankfurt, but I’m happy to announce that my driving skills have improved significantly since then, and I brought us back without a scratch!
She flew in on a Wednesday and we spent 2 days in the local area before hopping a bus to Switzerland for 4 days of hiking the Alps with a group of Navigators from Spangdahlem and other bases in Europe.
I haven’t seen Megan since April (one of the rotten things about long-distance relationships and military life), so it took a couple days for us to get over the “shy awkward” feeling of not having seen each other in 4 months. We took our time over Wednesday and Thursday: I brought her to my office and had her meet several of my co-workers, and took her on a grand tour of the base here (probably not as exciting as it sounds). We spent a lot of time at Larry and Patty’s house, eating food and playing board games. We also walked all over my town, and the surrounding fields, just catching up and getting reacquainted with each other.

The bus trip from Spang to Kandersteg Switzerland went off smoothly, except for a short episode where I left my passport on my table at home and had to race back and get it while everyone waited for me on the bus. Fortunately I live only 10 minutes away from base, and there is no speed limit on the autobahn!

Switzerland was stunning. We had a good deal of rain and cloud (which made things very cold at the feet of the mountains, but it was an unforgettable trip nonetheless.
We stayed in at an international Scout (like boyscout) camp, in dorms, with evening worship, bonfires, and a lot of fellowship IN BETWEEN all the hiking and sleeping eating! the 4 days were packed!
Friday – bus trip, unpack, set up camp, dinner, evening worship, hangout, bed.
Saturday – breakfast, First (proper noun, pronounced like: Fierce-t) ascent,  lunch at the peak, descent, dinner, worship, hangout, sleep.
Sunday – breakfast, lounge around all morning (sore legs!) lunch in town, afternoon by the mountain lake, dinner, worship, hangout, sleep
Monday – breakfast, pack up, bus back, veg, bed at home

so that’s the basics of our trip. The First hike deserves it’s own entry, and so does Sunday…but here are a few pictures to tide you over.

Brent’s Birthday

Summer is almost over, but we’ve already had several days that feel like September/October weather. I guess that shouldn’t be surprising, given I live on the same latitude as parts of Canada, but my mind and body are still tied to Virginia, and so I resent the cooling.
The other weird thing is that I’m starting to notice that the daylight hours are becoming shorter. That may not seem weird until I tell you that 9pm is roughly when everything is dark …and that seems early to me! I’m not looking forward to mid-winter when it won’t be light out until well after I begin my workday, and dark again by the time I drive home.
In the mean time, I must concede that August is my favorite month in Germany. We had exceptionally good weather this month, it only rained about 5 times and the temperature stayed up in the 70s all month -even reaching 91 degrees twice!

In other news:
Today is Brent’s birthday, and we’re cooking steak and shrimp for him, making a cake. He’s been very low-key about his birthday, despite my attempts to stir up trouble and excitement! He said he doesn’t want anything unusual, but hopefully our evening over at L&P won’t just be like all the other ones…
I have to do some shopping and cooking this afternoon.

Chicks Dig It

I keep meaning to write more about Italy and London, but events in Germany keep getting in the way …I suppose there are worse things in life.
The latest occurred just last evening…
The evening began quietly enough, with our normal Saturday night dinner and board-game gathering at Larry and Patty’s house. Jean cooked, made his family’s Red Beans and Rice recipe, and it turned out to be a huge success! We had fruit salad as a side-dish/desert.
After a particularly unsuccessful run at Shadows Over Camelot, we decided to go for a walk in the evening light -to the deer pasture and back.

***Back story: Spaermull is a German designation for the pre-scheduled night where all German villagers put their large trash out on the curb (once or twice a year only). A couple month’s ago, Brent and I found two wobbly old skateboards in the trash. Both skateboards have dragons painted underneath, so we named one Trogdor and the other Smaug…***

Trogdor, my (formerly) trusty steed

Since Fliessem has a lot of decently-paved hills, Brent and I decided to bring our skateboards on the walk. Most of the first third of the walk is downhill, so we set a relaxed downhill pace through the village, pausing for cars and stopping to take photos. All the hills were pretty manageable, and we’d hop off rather than pick up too much speed…only a fool would try to go fast on our rickety boards!

At the beginning of our walk

As you can tell by the photo, we don’t exactly fit the stereotype of most “skaters” …with our polo shirts and sperrys we are probably more cut out for the laid-back longboarding crowd, rather than the daredevil punks that you see at the X games.

As you can imagine, the vast majority of our walk was uneventful. We walked out of town and through the farmer’s fields and pastures, stopping to feed sheep and a herd of domestic (food) deer.
On the last leg of our walk, heading back into town, there is a long, well-paved tractor road with a barb-wire fence on the left, and some underbrush on the right. (can you tell where this is going?)
Right away, Brent declared, “There’s no way I’m riding my board down this hill” …and he was wise to say so. Initially, I agreed with him. It’s a looong hill and fairly steep, neither of us are expert riders, and both of our boards have seen better days.
After walking about 20 feet down the hill though, a little voice in my head whispered, “You might be able to do this…you’ll never know if you don’t try.”
I gazed down the slope for a few seconds and then plopped my board down in front of my feet and stepped on. I felt pretty confident as I slowly gained speed. I had pretty good footing, and the grass on both sides of the slope looked pretty soft in case of emergencies. In my mind, I briefly ran through bail-out plans, and decided that if the situation arose, I would head to the right so that I wouldn’t have to deal with the barb-wire fence.

By this point, I was going pretty fast, but I’d made it almost all the way down the hill and all of a sudden, my board got really loose beneath my feet -wobbling and shaking. Most of the time this is a correctable thing, but I was going a lot faster than normal. All I had time for was a brief, “oh no, this isn’t good!” thought, and the realization that the front of my board was heading right, and the back still felt like it was going left.
And then I was airborne.
My mind was saying “point towards the grass, land and roll!”

my busted-up hand

The pavement was saying, “oh no you don’t!”
Sure enough, I didn’t make it all the way to the grass, and the pavement took his tax; from the palm of my right hand, my forearms and left elbow.
As soon as I came to a stop (Brent said it looked like I rolled three times) my first thought was to stand back up, so everyone at the top of the hill would know that I was okay. As soon as I did that, things began to throb and tingle, and I checked myself over, noticing dirt and bits of gravel mingled with skin and blood.
So I sat back down next to my board and waited for everyone else to catch up.

Licking my wounds

As soon as they caught up to me and verified that I was okay, Larry and Brent laughed (I joined them) and then made me pose for some pictures…but it wasn’t until a little while later that everything started to get really nasty looking.
By the time we got back to the house, I looked pretty damaged, but Larry marched me straight to the bathroom and everyone stood around talking and snapping photos while he rinsed my wounds and poured Peroxide on them.
For the record, I have never been a big fan of peroxide on open wounds. Even as an adult, IT STILL HURTS.

peroxide and open wounds...

The rest of the night I spent quietly on the couch.