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Now that I’ve moved from FOB Diamondback to FOB Marez, I have to reestablish my daily and weekly routines. This first item I addressed was my running routes. On Friday, I ran a loop around Marez and measured it to be approximately 3.5 miles. Saturday’s route was basically a sideways figure-8 (or infinity) through the FOB, which was about 5 miles. Then yesterday, I ran a figure-8 that measured at 5.2 miles. I’ve mapped out another route that looks to be about 10 miles. I’ll probably run it next Saturday. I think I like running here on Marez better than on Diamondback. Because of the airfield, Diamondback was completely flat. While I’m not a good hill runner, the small hills here on Marez offer a nice change of pace.

The other routine item I had to consider is the barber shop. I visit the barber once a fortnight, usually Saturday afternoon. Coming out of the Marez DFAC yesterday, I noticed a small hajji shop in the parking lot across the street. In the Middle East, Hajji is an honorific for a Muslim that has completed the pilgrimage to Mecca. The American troops have adopted the term as their own and use it to describe anything from the Middle East. It is used as both a noun and an adjective. So all of the small shops on the FOBs run by non-US personnel are referred to as hajji shops.

Pop’s and Omar’s shop is a mini-mall in one room. You can see from the sign all of their different offerings. The jewelry is sold by weight. So if you want to buy a gold necklace, they weigh the necklace and calculate the price based on the value of gold for that day. The tailor makes custom suits. I’m not sure when I would have an opportunity to wear a suit, so I guess I’ll hold off on getting one made. The whole shop feels almost as if it could have come from Itaewon, the tourist trap area in Seoul, South Korea. I was able to get a reasonably good haircut. However, it is much more expensive than the barber on FOB Diamondback. I had to pay $5, whereas on Diamondback I only paid $3! Also, it doesn’t come with the scalp massage they give at Diamondback. Life is rough!

While I love changing jobs and locations every couple of years, I can’t stand the physical process of moving. Mugs can tell you how I try to avoid having to be there on the days the movers are putting boxes on the truck or taking boxes off the truck. To me, it’s a very painful experience. I was able to avoid it this year by deploying to Iraq. So Mugs, once again, got to unpack all of our worldly goods. Abby sent me a Christmas ornament that depicts how I feel about moving.

For the past couple of months, a contractor has been building a new camp for MAO. The old MAO facility is located on FOB Diamondback. This location happens to be in the flood plain for the Tigris River. You may have heard the Mosul Dam mentioned in the news. If that dam were to collapse, FOB Diamondback could be underwater, along with many other parts of Mosul. Just across the street from FOB Diamondback is FOB Marez. As you drive out of the gate from FOB Diamondback, cross the street, and drive on to FOB Marez, you start going up hill. The new MAO location on FOB Marez is above the high water line in the event of a flood.

Construction is complete on the new camp, so for the past two days, we’ve been in the process of moving. One day was devoted to office trailers, while the other day was for living trailers. These living trailers are also called CHUs (pronounced “chews”), which stands for containerized housing units. So of course, I procrastinated as much as feasibly possible. On day 1, I woke up at about 0630, got ready, drank some coffee, boxed up my office stuff, and loaded it into my truck. The contractor was responsible for moving the office furniture. So once we cleared out, they began loading things into a connex, which was loaded onto the back of a flatbed for transport to FOB Diamondback.

Robert, the USACE logistics specialist in MAO, was overseeing the contractor for this move. Just picture a crew of about 10 guys grabbing things from numerous trailers and packing it all into a connex. At one point, the contractors brought a couch out and set it on the sidewalk. It gave Robert and me a nice comfortable seat to watch the contractor’s crane operator load the connexes onto the flatbed. I had never seen the couch before and mentioned that to Robert. It’s amazing the things you find when you move.

We spent the rest of the day getting all of the furniture moved into the appropriate offices and arranged. While this was happening, Jeremy was working on reestablishing our communications links. Our internet and phone service is provided through a satellite system. So Jeremy, along with Vickie and Nate (USACE IT folks from other locations) had fun aligning our satellite receiver. I think they were having fun, but they weren’t laughing or smiling.

Anyway, Day 2 was dedicated to moving the living CHUs. So once again, I waited until the morning of the move to throw my stuff in some duffel bags and put it in my truck. Extra sleep and coffee are much more important than preparing for moving! It’s the end of Day 2 now and this is what my new office looks like.

Of course when Mugs prepares for a move, she always purges. As you can see, the purge didn’t happen. You can’t see it from the picture, but just to the right is a blue couch that somehow ended up in my office at the end of the move!

Each day of my life I am not concerned with knowing every stranger’s name who crosses my path and how old they are, but for Ezekiel this is vital information.  When he talks on the phone, he will ask the caller, “What’s your name?”  If someone asks how old he is he will reply, “I’m 3.  What number are you?”  I am required to give him the name of everyone I talk to, be it telemarketers, store clerks, or old ladies standing next to me.  He is relentless.  “What’s her name?  What’s her name?  What’s her name?  What’s her name?  What’s her name?”  He won’t stop until I tell him and then he commits it to memory.  If, I hang up the phone on a telemarketer without listening carefully for their name, I’m doomed.  “What’s his name?  What’s his name?  What’s his name?  What’s his name?  What’s his name?”  “I don’t know” is not an acceptable answer.  In Australia, a telemarketer from India called me and told me his name was Bruce.  His pronunciation of Bruce made me sincerely doubt that Bruce was his real name.  If he called me now that I am back in America, would his name be Bob?  Anyway, along with having to know everyone’s name, Ezekiel will periodically make rude comments about the person.  He doesn’t use the term man or woman yet.  So, instead, he says, “I don’t like that girl.”  “I don’t like that boy.” in reference to various people that don’t appeal to him.  In the midst of trying to correct him on this rude habit, he looked over at the lady next to me and said, “That girl’s got a big nose!”  I told him to apologize for being rude.  He said “I’m sorry” followed closely behind by “That girl’s got a big nose!”  I figured it was best to just move along.  If he doesn’t have a name for something, he makes one up.  This afternoon when I was driving in the car, I heard him in the back having a conversation with his fingers.  He would hold up a finger and say, “My name is Lala, I like to dance.”  (This is chanted repeatedly on the inane show Yo Gabba Gabba.  The kids or characters insert their name into the phrase)  He continued through all ten fingers and they had names like Umi and Umu and Aza and Holly Hobby.  When that was done, he told his fingers that all his friends were in Iraq and he asked them one by one if they wanted to go to Iraq too.  They all agreed to go to Iraq and then he counted everyone of his fingers who were going to Iraq and they all cheered.  I will admit that it was probably a mistake to buy him a camouflaged jacket.  Then, the only bathrobe (dressing gown) that I could find close to his size was camouflaged too.  The first time he put his bathrobe on, Abby said we should buy him a pipe.  He does look hilarious in the thing.  In fact, he came downstairs wearing his bathrobe tonight to tell me that he needed “warm and toasty”.  When I tuck him into bed, I say, “There, now your warm and toasty.”  So, while most kids ask to be tucked in, he needs “warm and toasty.”  If you come in contact with the boy, be prepared to give your name and age.  I can’t promise he won’t insult you, but if your lucky he may invite you to go to Iraq with him to see all his friends. 

Having spent the last week shivering in my house, I decided I needed to figure out my pellet stove.  When ever I mention the fact that I have a pellet stove to pellet stove people, they all reply the same, “They heat good!”  So, since my heat pump “don’t heat good!”, I was motivated to take action.  Admittedly, I was a bit cautious considering my previous home maintenance ineptness, but there is nothing like a day where the temperature barely gets above freezing to make me risk burning down my house.  I called the store that had sold the stove to the previous owner and asked if they recommended a chimney sweep who also did stove maintenance in the area.  They gave me the information and then I asked where I could purchase the pellets.  They said I could come by the store and they would go with me to their warehouse and have a ton of pellets loaded on the back of my truck.  I got really quiet as I considered that pellets are purchased by the ton and that Dale could now use pellet hauling as well as dump running as reasons to buy a truck.  I told them thanks for that information and I hung up.  A ton of pellets? Really?  Next, I called the chimney sweep and talked to the woman who sets the appointments.  She was a pellet stove person and promptly told me, “they heat good”!  I brought up the ton of pellets question and she said she goes through 3 tons a winter.  3 tons?  I told her I didn’t have a truck, so she gave me the number for a man who delivers pellets to your house.  She then told me the story of how she got her pellet stove for free because some silly woman moved into a house and thought the pellet stove was ugly and asked the chimney sweep to remove it.  I congratulated her on her good deal, but didn’t share the fact that when I moved into this house I had the same thought as that silly woman.  But since everyone kept telling me, “They heat good!” I kept it where it was.  So, I called the pellet delivery man and said I needed some pellets.  “You need me to bring you 10 tons?, he said.  “10 tons?  No. 1 ton will be more than enough,” I answered.  After he took down my details, he said he’d bring me 3 tons.  “1 ton will be plenty,” I said.  “Come on,” he said, “I’m trying to get some business.”  I told him that I knew I should be thankful that he had brought the amount down from 10 tons to 3 tons, but I would stick with 1 ton.  Josiah and I were soon helping him stack the bags of pellets in the garage.  I remarked to him that I should have more than enough for winter.  “Nah,” he said, I’ll see you in February.”  Now with the stacks of pellets in the garage, Gabe and I began the process of lighting the pellet stove.  I had the manual in hand and we went step by step.  We primed the auger, turned the blowers on, squirted some fire starter on the pellets, lit the pellets, set the pellet feed, and watched it burn.  We were proud of ourselves.  That silly woman, she’s probably freezing in her house right now, but me, well…”They heat good!”

The kids have been praying Psalm 91 over me each night of my deployment. Mugs sent me a small digital recorder recently where she recorded various messages and other holly, jolly sounds. On one of the sound bites, the kids recited Psalm 91 from memory. Zeke participated as well. I couldn’t quite hear Zeke playing it back on the recorder, but once I uploaded the sounds to my PC, I could hear every little sound. It is great to hear Zeke’s echoes as he recites with his brothers and sister. I converted the file to Mp3 for your listening pleasure!