Today is a great day. In spite of anything else that has happened today, I’m happy because I got my new running shoes in the mail today. My new favorite running shoes are the New Balance 826. I ordered my first pair at the end of November 2007 and have enjoyed running in them from Day 1. I have had that pair for about 2.5 months now. In that time, I have run 46 times for a total of 228.3 miles. That’s an average of 4 runs per week at 4.96 miles per run. The longest run was a 13 mile run one Saturday afternoon. They’ve taken quite a beating.
Gotta run!
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!
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!”
I have a bluebird house nailed to an Oak Tree in my backyard. When standing at the window in the kitchen, I can see it clearly. I had observed periodic flashes of blue from flying birds, but had assumed that they were jays. I had seen plenty of bluebird houses over the years, but never any bluebirds. So, my Mom and I were delighted to see several bluebirds checking out the bluebird house. They kept flying around the house, but would not enter. My Mom was convinced that we had to clean out their house for them, so that they would go in. I hate cleaning my own house and felt the bluebirds should clean their own house themselves. My Mom, who cleans everyones house: family, friend, or bird got to work. We read online that you should bang on the side before you open the house to allow the bird to fly away if one is inside. So, my Mom unscrewed the screws and then gave the side of the house a good bang. What looked out at her was no bird. She called Zeke and I to come look and it was something in between a chipmunk and a squirrel. I then went to get Dad in case there was trouble. Mom pounded on the house until the animal ran out and Mom declared it something from “The Secret of NIMH”. It looked like a squirrel, but was too small and had a flat tail. She then opened the box to discover a giant messy nest. The animal was on the oak running back and forth and giving us a piece of her mind. Mom had Dad hold open a plastic bag to push the nest into so it wouldn’t make a mess. When the nest fell into the bag, the baby squeeks started. There were 3 little babies in there and we were all a bit stunned as to what to do. Dad shook them out onto the ground under the tree. The animal then ran down the oak, rolled one baby in a ball, put it in her mouth and hightailed it back up the oak. Mom continued to clean out the birdhouse mumbling all the time about strange squirrels. She and Dad then moved to clean out the other birdhouse located at the back of the property on a post. Zeke and I stayed where we were and continued to watch the animal roll her babies into a ball and carry them up the tree in her mouth. It wasn’t until she flew over our heads that Zeke and I yelled. It was a flying squirrel. I was shocked. I had no idea there were flying squirrels in Virginia. I stared in amazement just as I had when I watched 2 kangaroos boxing on the ridgeline across from our house in Australia. I came in the house and looked online to discover that Virginia northern flying squirrels have been on the endangered species list since the mid 80s. Thankfully, their population has recovered, and it has been proposed to remove them from the list. They will soon be declared no longer endangered in Virginia. Well, at least in areas outside of my backyard.
Last night, I went out to dinner with two friends visiting from out of town. When I returned home at 1030, Zeke was waiting up for me. I thought it was just his normal night owl sleep delay tactics, but I was wrong. He was waiting up to report his wrongdoing that occurred while I was gone. He came running up to give me a hug. Then, when I was carrying him up the stairs, he told me very seriously, “I breaka da I.” Thinking he was talking about the letter I puzzle piece, I asked him if he dropped it or smashed it or pulled it. He said he pulled it and I asked him what he did then. He replied, “I give it to Grandpa.” I asked if Grandpa fixed it and he said, “No. Grandpa no fix it.” I put him to bed, came downstairs, and my Mom gave me the debriefing. Ezekiel had somehow pulled the I key off of Dale’s laptop. So, he knew it was a serious I breaka da I and felt at the age of 3 that it was vital to “admit when you’ve done something wrong and take responsibility for your actions.” Apparently, my lectures have gotten through to one of my kids.
