I took yesterday off—the 285th would be arriving in Tucson after a 22 month deployment. Wednesday after work, I sat at a traffic light (in my car) waiting for green—but before that happened, Bumphf! I was rear-ended, mes amis!
I pulled over as did the car that hit me. An older woman jumped out and I asked her if she was okay—and she was relived that I was polite, not angry and concerned more about her welfare over my car, etc.
My car as well as her car had no damage. She was from out of town, and the car was a rental—with quite a large engine and very powerful she said. Her foot slipped off the brake and the car, even in idle mode, lunged forward.
My neck is a bit sore—as it snapped from the impact. Should I have insisted on getting her “information” Nah. I’ll be okay. But my neck and shoulders do hurt a little.
Bev arrived safe and sound Thursday. There was not much fan-fare. The commanding General, realizing everyone had waited long enough for this day, cut the formalities short. They had been delayed a month returning home. Think of it like waiting for a flight at your local airport; the flight is delayed a few hours—Yeah, you bitch.
Imagine waiting for a month—in a tent—in a country having one the coldest winters on record. I can’t even pronounce Kyrgyzstan. This was the place where Bev’s month-long winter holiday ensued.
So Bev somehow was able to hide a bottle of Russian Vodka in her carry-on—bought last minute before leaving Kyr”plop”zsatn. She thought the bottle was ornate and kind of interesting.
And, Gentle Readers of this Blog—finally at home—Bev announced we would drink shots of this Vodka to mark the occasion of her return.
I suggested she go first—as far as I was concerned, this was probably a knock-off Kyrgyzstan rot-gut, made in a bathtub a few mud-huts down the dirt road.
O! How mistaken I was, Gentle Readers.
Let’s drink to our War’s end.
Drink yet again—to our fellow soldiers in Iraq and Afghanistan.
And for a third time—to Russia! For this is the best Vodka I have ever known!