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The previous owners kindly left a bird house hanging off my back porch awning and I have a direct view of it from my kitchen window.  Two wrens began padding their nest and worked diligently for days getting it just right.  A few weeks later, I walked out on to the back porch to hear the little cheep cheeps of baby birds.  I have been observing the parents endless trips to bring their hungry children food.  Their task may be more labor intensive than mine, but after 15 days they throw their children out of the house.  For me, the feeding routine lasts 18 years for each.  Two days ago, I looked out the window and saw the black neighborhood cat standing on the porch railing and reaching for the house.  I flew out the door like a mad woman, yelling and chasing her off.  We had previously been on good terms and I often requested that if she was going to wander about my yard, she could have the courtesy to kill a few moles.  I watched her stalk a mole once, but she didn’t kill it.  I read online that cats do not like to eat moles.  They taste bad.  I then decided that I must now take some action to keep her off of the porch railing.  I read online that cats won’t jump on things if they are wrapped in tinfoil.  So, I went outside and wrapped my porch railing in tinfoil.  I was then on cat watch and constantly looked out the window to ensure my defenses were in place and prepared myself to chase off all cat threats.  There are actually 2 black neighborhood cats.  They are both solid black with golden eyes.  One is fat, one is skinny.  So, when I saw her fat brother sitting under my bird feeder, I charged out the door yelling, “Get out of here! Get out of here!  Leave my birds alone!”  He ran off and I was feeling quite pleased when I looked up to discover my neighbors sitting on their back patio.  All of a sudden it dawned on me…Not only do I have my back porch railing wrapped in tinfoil, but I periodically come running out of the house like a nutcase.  “She’s mad,” I say, “Stark raving mad!”  I slunk back into the house.  The next day, I walked out on my front porch to discover a lovely dead mouse, freshly killed, and left neatly for me.  A peace offering.  Being a cat person, I couldn’t help but feel touched.  Our barn cat in Germany, Fruhliche would bring all kinds of things to me as a gift: whole dead mice, mice with their heads decapitated, just the head, just the tail, a mouse gallbladder, etc.  When she wanted to add some excitement to our lives, she would bring the mouse in live, let it loose, and then stalk and kill it.  I never knew that cats growled until I was woken in the dead of night and heard her growling at a mouse next to my bed.  It was a fearsome sound.  So, I knew this was an offering given in the hopes of reestablishing our peaceful coexistence.  Either that, or she was making a  trade for the baby birds.

On Saturday, Josiah participated in the ACSI National Spelling Bee.  There was a reception the night prior for the students to meet and get to know each other.  They were each given a list of statements (I live east of the Mississippi.  I am the oldest in my family, etc) and they were supposed to find students who matched the criteria.  I know it will surprise many of you to discover that Josiah was not wandering around asking questions of kids he didn’t know.  However, he could not avoid those who came to ask him.  And so, we met Jack, a 6th grader.  He walked up to Josiah and said, “So, where are you on this list, son?”  Josiah offered him a couple options and upon seeing Josiah’s name badge said, “You’re from Fredericksburg, Eh.  You must know all about the battle of Fredericksburg then.”  When Josiah replied that he did not, Jack spent the next several minutes explaining the battle to Josiah.  Jack finished his military history lesson with “The bottom line, south won!”  Then off he went to harangue the next unsuspecting speller.  Later in the evening, each speller got up to introduce themselves.  They had to say their name, grade, school, and claim to fame.  Jack said, “I am mostly known for my shy and reserved demeanor.”  Even though the students had only known each other for 30 minutes, plenty of people laughed.  Josiah’s claim to fame was that he had lived in Australia for 2 years.  He even said, “Good Day, Mate!”  Another boy’s claim to fame was that he had memorized the Gettysburg address in 1st grade.  Some students were mortified to speak and others relished the spotlight.  I was greatly entertained by all their uniqueness.  On Saturday morning, the spelling bee started and it was very obvious that most of the students had memorized the published words list.  For the practice round, Josiah had to spell eventual.  In the 1st round, he spelled lingcod.  In the 2nd round, he spelled cavil.  In the 3rd round, he spelled geriatrics.  In the 4th round, he spelled toponymy.  In the 5th round, the judge went to the unpublished list and Josiah had to spell, escritoire.  When she said it, I knew he was done.  Unlike some of the other parents in the room, I had not provided my son with a French tutor to prepare him for the Bee.  He gave it a go and almost had it.  He spelled it escritoir.  He left off the last e, and he was out.  If only my Grandfather had not taken the e off of the end of Meloche, Josiah may have thought it best to always throw an e on the end of a French word.  He finished 25th out of 46 spellers.  Of course, including all the students who participated in the Bees leading up to the Nationals, he finished 25th out of 7000.  It sounds more impressive.  I’m fairly sure, Jack will use a similar statistic throughout his life.  Josiah was disappointed, but as the Bee went on and he began to realize the skill level of his competitors, he leaned over to me and said, “I could have never won”.  By the 6th round, there were 12 students left.  One girl asked every question she could before she spelled a word. “May I have a definition?  Is the language of origin French?  Is the root word …?, and on and on and on.”  It took her 5 minutes to spell a word.  The Gettysburg address boy was eliminated and his father protested twice to the arbitrator.  His father had a laptop computer that he showed to the judge to try to prove that something unjust had occurred.   I leaned over and told Josiah that he needed a better arbitrator.  I didn’t even have a dictionary, let alone a computer, and I certainly didn’t have a French tutor.  The boy’s father was denied twice.  The Gettysburg address boy was officially eliminated.  Jack was eliminated as well.  There was one boy who upon receiving a word, would scan his eyes back and forth as if reading pages of the dictionary in his mind.  He was eliminated by an Italian musical term.  By round 13 there were 2 students left.  The girl spelled without asking a question,  The boy only occasionally asked for a definition.  The boy spelled words I had never heard of.  He would spell with double p’s, or l’s or oui’s and I would think, “There’s no way that word is spelled that way.”  Yet, he was always correct.  I thought for sure he was going to win and yet he got thrown off by a dog breed.  He misspelled dachshund.  The girl, who never paused, then spelled susurration and cetacean to win.  When it was all over, I was happy to consider that the seemingly endless spelling hours were over.  We picked up Zeke, and on the way home he started, “M-O-M, mom, D-A-D, dad, N-O, no, Y-E-S, yes.  Apparently, it’s never going to end.

Last Thursday night, I put out the garbage and there was a thick humid feeling in the air that midwesterners know to fear. Soon, a storm came into Stafford. The thunder was pretty intense and the lightning quite bright. I know tornadoes are not common in Virginia, so I wasn’t all that concerned. However, at 2300, I decided that the storm sounded bad enough to warrant me checking the National Weather Service online. Actually, being a Meloch, I can make up any excuse to check the weather. So, I logged onto the National Weather Service, entered my town of Stafford, Va and read the following, “A tornado warning has been issued for Stafford, VA. A tornado has been spotted, seek shelter immediately.”  Ignoring the urge to scream, I immediately ran upstairs, woke the kids and took them down into the basement. The power flickered once , the rain poured down, and I prayed. We all slept in the basement that night. Abby slept on Dale’s recliner and being a true Manry said it was a very comfortable place to sleep. Josiah slept on a pile of beanbags. Gabe inflated air mattresses for himself, Zeke and I. As I was laying on the air mattress, all I could think was, “I am so glad we are not moving this summer and I won’t have to sleep on this for 3 months.” The next morning, we discovered that the tornado struck approximately 15 miles away. We saw some of the damage of snapped trees and missing windows. However, last night we realized that spring was not done with us yet. Another storm came through that dumped 3 - 4 inches of rain on Stafford County. My clean gutters decided they preferred to be clogged and rain poured off them and soaked the ground which overwhelmed my basement walls. From 2100 - 0100 last night, I attempted to stop the water. Gabe, who goes on duty during storms, and Josiah hauled all the toys and rugs upstairs and got everything off the floor. Josiah didn’t complain with his Wii and DVR under threat. I had placed a large rolling garbage can next to the porch under the largest stream of water coming off the gutter and would periodically walk out into the pouring rain and haul it to the curb to dump it. I was quite the sight at 0030. I would then return to the basement and lay down multiple towels and wring them out into a large pail and then dump the water from the pail into the utility sink. That was exhausting work. I thought of all the people I had seen on the news over the years filling sandbags to stop a flood.  How they keep going is beyond me.  I was so tired, it was difficult not to give up and admit defeat.  Throughout this process, I was thinking of the Army’s favorite motto of “Work Smarter, Not Harder!”, but in moments of crisis, more efficient actions always escape me. At 0100, I was too exhausted to stand and went to bed praying that the water would not flood the entire basement. This morning, Gabe woke up and performed the damage assessment. The boy is destined to be an Engineer.  After dropping the kids off at school, I drove to the home improvement store and purchased Dale’s Father’s Day gift: a 12 gallon wet/dry vac. I put it together and tested it out to make sure it worked. I’m sure he’ll love it.

This morning while reading the Bible, I came across a Psalm that sounds like something a mother would say to her kids. The translation is The Message, and the passage is Psalm 15:2-5a:

Walk straight, act right, tell the truth.

Don’t hurt your friend, don’t blame your neighbor, despise the despicable.

Keep your word even when it costs you, make an honest living, never take a bribe.

It’s hard to find better, more succinct advice than that!

I went on a site visit inside the city of Mosul this morning. There is a curfew in effect throughout the whole Ninewa Province due to an ongoing Iraqi Army operation. This offensive has been reported in most major news media. Because of this, the streets were particularly empty as we drove to the different sites today. All three of the sites we visited are sewer/storm drain projects. Below is a picture from the Al Jasaeer project site. The contractor installed a new storm water sewer system on the right hand side of the road where the new manhole and pavement is visible. Before this, there were no storm drains in this area, just like in Phoenix!

As we were returning from our mission today, I noticed an interesting tattoo on one of the team members. Instead of wearing a wedding band, he has a tattoo on his ring finger. It’s hard to read in the picture, but it says Chrissy.

Happy Mother’s Day from Mosul.

One week ago today, on 2 May 2008, MAJ Rick Biddle walked over from the Operations trailer and told me that SET 8 had been hit by an IED. SET 8 is based out of COB Speicher in Tikrit. The team had taken some USACE personnel on a project site visit along the Bayji to Baghdad Pipeline Exclusion Zone north of Tikrit. Among the personnel was Jim Lockard, a Project Manager working at GRN. At approximately 1000, Jim’s vehicle was hit by an IED and came under small arms fire from insurgents. The Aegis SET repelled the attack, pushed the insurgents back, evacuated the USACE personnel, and returned to COB Speicher. Jim died at the CSH as a result of his injuries sustained from the IED blast.

When I arrived in Mosul in August 2007, Jim was the Project Manager for the GRN healthcare clinics. For a couple of months, I spoke with him every Sunday during the weekly healthcare clinic conference call. I finally had the pleasure of meeting Jim in October 2007 when I went to COB Speicher for the Engineer Conference. I immediately liked Jim as everyone did when they met him.

On Wednesday, I traveled to COB Speicher for a memorial ceremony in honor of Jim. COL Pfenning spoke of his admiration and respect for Jim. Several other of Jim’s colleagues also gave remarks during the ceremony. They each consistently mentioned his love for his wife Maria and his two teenage daughters Danielle and Nicole. They also shared stories of his sense of humor. One of the speakers shared Ecclesiastes 3:1-8. In this passage, the Preacher says:

There is a time for everything,
and a season for every activity under heaven:
a time to be born and a time to die,
a time to plant and a time to uproot,
a time to kill and a time to heal,
a time to tear down and a time to build,
a time to weep and a time to laugh,
a time to mourn and a time to dance,
a time to scatter stones and a time to gather them,
a time to embrace and a time to refrain,
a time to search and a time to give up,
a time to keep and a time to throw away,
a time to tear and a time to mend,
a time to be silent and a time to speak,
a time to love and a time to hate,
a time for war and a time for peace.

I reflected on those words of Solomon as the bugler played Taps at the end of the ceremony. I along with everyone else that had the pleasure of knowing him will miss Jim dearly. Each night my kids pray for the safety of everyone deployed to Iraq, Afghanistan and other places around the world. They mention me by name as well as others we know that are deployed. In Mosul, we will continue to honor Jim’s sacrifice every time we go outside the wire.

Rest in Peace, Jim Lockard.