Loose Ends...

Alright...I want to finish up with the Florida vacation posts because the luster is quickly fading away. And I'm starting to forget a lot. The reason for the delay in posting was because I hadn't been able to find the USB cable to transfer the photos from our camera to our computer. Thank you technology! That fact combined with the new patio we built in the back yard and Maribeth's graduation...it has a busy time. HOWEVER!! Lo and behold the cable has been found, the patio has been built and the edumacation graduation happened!!

So...Florida trip Day 2: Turn Left at the Walgreens...

Sunday was supposed to be a day of swimming with manatees...with our good friend Dave, whom we hadn't seen in ages. So that means...good day: planned; dumb day: reality.

The manatee place was about 2 and a half hours away, so we set out around 5 AM or so. Driving, driving, driving...turned left at the Walgreens...listen to the weather...lots of rain predicted, gale force winds...turn off the radio...driving driving driving...turned left at another Walgreens...phone rings. Manatee dive: canceled. Damn. We were so close. Apparently the winds and such were too nasty on the bay to do anything. However the weather was still nice where we were.

So we took a vote and decided to drive to the little town where the place was and see what else there was to do. We stopped at a gas station and the clerk said there is a cool zoo. "Oh", says I, "How does one get to this zoo you speak of?"...
clerk: "drive down the road you're on for about another 20 minutes and then (you guessed it) turn left at the Walgreens."

Wow. We drove, turned...then we got rained on. And rained on. So we gave up and decided to go back to the hotel. It was one of the wettest drives I have ever EVER driven. And believe it or not we turned at 3 more Walgreens on the way home.

The day was then filled with lazy TV watching and naps. Although the weather cleared up in the evening enough for us to go to Downtown Disney and eat at an awesome Cuban restaurant, Bongos...Once there, we decided to sit outside. Bad idea. It was sooo windy and cold I had to walk down to a store and buy a $42 Pirates of the Caribbean sweatshirt to keep a certain member of our party warm. After my expensive excursion, we ordered our food. I ate something awesome that I unfortunately can't recall the name of. Maribeth had something that she didn't like, so we ended up picking off of each other's plates. It was all good to me.

So the night turned into a fun, drinking, walking and talking time with the Swarrs and Dave. It ended up being a lazy, but still enjoyable day.

Lesson to be learned: If you are ever in Florida and you get lost, make 3 left turns at 3 different Walgreens and you'll be fine.

Up next: Florida Trip: Day 3 aka Busch Gardens: Part 1

We're Smart

There was a last minute change in my plans this past weekend. I thought I'd have to settle for just getting my degree from Millersville in the mail. I didn't think I would be able to attend commencement for my graduation.

However three days before the ceremony, I found out that I had the opportunity to. Unfortunately not everyone could make it as it was so last minute, but I know everyone was there in spirit and that was enough for me.

It was a beautiful day and it felt so wonderful to participate in something that always seemed so far away and at times almost impossible to reach. What an amazing feeling...

I am finally done.

Weekend Surprises

By: Mrs. Swarr

I have to interrupt Zach's Florida stories (uh... story) to share the excitement of our weekend. Saturday was an important day in my college career. The last day in fact. I had 2 finals to take and then all that's left is to wait for the diploma to come in the mail. It’s about time.

Anyway, Zach promised me Saturday. He promised he would take Declan out for the day so I could study and take the final tests of my lifelong schooling. Well. Saturday morning he decided he would rather get the patio finished than allow me to take my finals. For those of you who were unaware - Zach and I were working on a brick patio in the back yard for our summer enjoyment. Needless to say there was quite a bit of arguing on the subject. In the end, Zach refused to back down and I decided I wasn't going to argue about this any longer. What’s one more day when I have already put a good 20 years into my education already?

Well, we worked on the patio from 8:30am until 4:00pm. I am so stiff and sore I can hardly move. Mom was kind enough to pop over around 11:00 to play with Declan, give him some lunch, and put him down for a nap (Thanks mom!!). Then, after we finished the patio and I was preparing to take my first final, finally, Amy and Erik showed up.

me: Hey. What are you doing here?
Amy: We were shopping and thought we would stop by.
me: Why were you shopping the whole way down here?
Amy: Well this is the closest Lowe's to us.
me: Oh. Well do you want to stay for supper? I am going to make this great new chicken recipe. Oh and you can help me take my test!
Amy: Ok. But we're not hungry.
me: Oh. Ok. Later then. Wanna help me with my test?
Amy: Sure.
me: Ok. Dammit. The internet is out. Well let's go sit and relax a bit until Declan wakes up. HEY. Dean's here. He must have stopped by to see how the patio turned out.

At this point I am still clueless, and pretty much reserved to the fact that my finals will be waiting until tomorrow. We are all outside admiring the patio when Zach puts his arm over my shoulders and says, "ok honey. Confession time."

Oh crap. What does he think I did? What did he do? Is he going to accuse me of something in front of Dean and Amy and Erik????

And then the words of my impending fate are spilling out of my husband's mouth, but it doesn't sink in. What?
... for you...

What?

....graduation... for you...

say again?

we're having a surprise graduation party for you

and in walks Mom and Dad Swarr.

and Aunt Debi and Tom

and Mom and Dad Johnson

and it hits me.... Aunt Debi asked about some party. Zach kept delaying my test taking. Amy and Erik “weren’t hungry.” A million other hints. I was clueless. I didn't get it.

and it hits me again..... there was actually a valid reason for Zach insisting that we finish the patio today. Zach has fully surprised me for the first time in our blessedly long and eventful relationship. I am speechless. And I am having the time of my life.


Afterward:

Sunday I took my finals and passed with flying colors. Thank you to my wonderful husband and fabulous sister for planning such a great evening. Thank you to my extraordinary family and friends for being there for me the entire way through this process. I never could have done it without you. Finally, thank you for being there to celebrate the most wonderful day of my life - followed closely by my wedding and the birth of my son. Ok so I guess maybe it doesn't beat those out, but man it feels good to be done.

Florida Trip: The Joys of Publix

Ok. It's time to blog about our Florida trip starting.....now!

Florida Trip Day 1: The Joys of Publix

After a very pleasant and surprisingly non turbulent flight (and after putting our tray tables and seat backs in their original and upright positions) we started our descent into Orlando...

Our plane arrived at the gate Saturday April 14th around quarter 'til 4. After moseying down to the baggage claim and claiming our baggage, we then took a courtesy van to our car rental place which was surprisingly nice. Although the last thing I was expecting to hear upon arriving in Florida was a heavy Brooklyn accent from our van driver. We went through all of the rigamarole at the car rental place and it was off to the hotel.

Check in was flawless...but then we had to wait 20 minutes for a parking pass which we were informed was highly necessary and important yet put in our windshield all but twice with no problems whatsoever.

We went to the room, unpacked, sat down for all but an hour, made all of the necessary "We got here" phone calls and it was off to the grocery store...Publix. We had a little kitchenette in our room and decided that it might be nice to make a meal every now and then.

Grocery shopping on vacation was a little weird, but we found that the 'Publix' brand foods had very nice and refreshing packaging, so that made it enjoyable...well that and the fact that once you're outside our great Commonwealth of Pennsylvania they sell alcohol at grocery stores, convenience stores, pizza shops, etc...Everywhere except at a 'State Store' (which incidentally, no one outside of PA knows what one is).

After spending way too much on groceries, it was back to the room. And if my memory serves me, it was an evening of nothing but relaxing and enjoying the jacuzzi tub...with beer and wine purchased at...you guessed it: Publix.

Good first day.

Up next: Florida Trip Day 2: Turn left at the Walgreens...

Easter struggle

We're home from Florida and I have a lot of posting to do about that vacation. Unfortunately, this week has been a hectic catch-up-from-vacation kind of week. SO...I just thought I'd post a little something from Easter to get you through to next week.

Enjoy the chuckle....

The Sunshine State

I just wanted to tell all of you a little story:

Back in December, my company hosted a Christmas party. At the party Santa handed out gifts to each couple in a unique fashion. Each couple in turn, would be called to the front of the room and one person of the couple would be voted as 'naughty' and the other person would be 'nice'. The 'naughty' of the two would pull a gag gift from Santa's bag and the 'nicer' of the two would have his/her pick of a gift from a present filled table.

To anyone who can say the word 'Swarr', I'm sure you know which of us got the gag gift and which one got the real gift. Anyway, I ended up getting some velcro-ball-dart-board-Family Guy thing and Maribeth picked a gift off the table. Said gift was handed to her and unwrapped. Upon unwrapping, she was asked (by Santa no less), "Is that what's really in there?"

Maribeth then opened the box and found a metal briefcase. The briefcase was opened and an envelope was inside. Santa then stated that "inside the envelope is an undisclosed amount of cash. You can either take that cash and be done or you can take an all expense paid (hotel, flight, rental car, spending cash) 7 day 6 night vacation to either Orlando or Daytona Beach, FL."

As you may have suspected Maribeth took a little while to choose between the 'selfish' FL vacation and the 'practical' gift of cash (of course which would be promptly used toward bills and the house). As you may have also suspected, she did get a little emotional (as did I). Everyone clapped and cheered and we hugged.

Santa later told her she made the wiser of the two choices.

So we are now packing to go to the Sunshine State. Little man will be staying with her sister and we will be embarking on an adventure filled with Cirque du Soleil, horseback riding, manatee snorkeling, hang gliding and more horseback riding (whew!).

So wish us luck, safe travels and we'll see you in a week or so...

-zs and mb

Patience and honor....

As you may recall, in typing these posts I wanted to bring to the forefront some stories that were lost in the shuffle of war. The first posts were from Iraq and Afghanistan because I can relate to those wars (being an Iraq War veteran). However I wanted to also find stories and events from other wars in our country's past. I decided to pick Vietnam this time. I started poking around and I found so many recollections and stories I wasn't sure if I'd be able to choose just one or two. Personally, I wish I could post them all.

One of the events I chose to post was about man named Alfred Rascon. He was a Specialist in the US Army; a medic assigned to a Recon platoon. What he did didn't impact the outcome of the war and I think it is a safe wager to say that this story was rarely told beyond his family and friends who knew him. It would have never been put on the 6 o'clock news in March of 1966...after all, he wasn't even an American citizen. He was from Mexico.

The Republic of Vietnam, 16 March 1966...Specialist Fourth Class Alfred Rascon was assigned as a medic to the Reconnaissance Platoon, Headquarters Company, 1st Battalion (Airborne), 503rd Infantry, 173d Airborne Brigade (Separate).

While moving to reinforce its sister battalion under intense enemy attack, the Reconnaissance Platoon came under heavy fire from a numerically superior enemy force. The intense enemy fire from machine guns and grenades severely wounded several point squad soldiers.

Specialist Rascon, ignoring directions to stay behind shelter until covering fire could be provided, made his way forward. He repeatedly tried to reach the severely wounded machine-gunner laying on an open enemy trail, but was driven back each time by the withering fire. Disregarding his personal safety, he jumped to his feet, ignoring flying bullets and exploding grenades to reach his comrade. To protect him from further wounds, he intentionally placed his body between the soldier and enemy machine guns, sustaining numerous shrapnel injuries and a serious wound to the hip.

Thinking nothing of his wounds he dragged the larger soldier from the fire-raked trail. Hearing the second machine-gunner yell that he was running out of ammunition, Specialist Rascon, under heavy enemy fire crawled back to the wounded machine-gunner stripped him of his bandoleers of ammunition, and gave them to the other machine-gunner who continued his suppressive fire.

Specialist Rascon fearing the abandoned machine gun, its ammunition and spare barrel could fall into enemy hands made his way to retrieve them. On the way, he was wounded in the face and torso by grenade fragments, but disregarded these wounds to recover the abandoned machine gun, ammunition and spare barrel items, enabling another soldier to provide added suppressive fire to the pinned-down squad. In searching for the wounded, he saw another comrade being wounded by small arms fire and grenades being thrown at him. Again disregarding his own life and his numerous wounds, Specialist Rascon reached the soldier and covered him with his own body, absorbing the blasts from the exploding grenades. He saved the soldier's life, but sustained additional wounds to his body.

While making his way to the wounded squad leader, he saw that grenades were being hurled at the sergeant. Again, in complete disregard for his own life, he reached and covered the sergeant with his body, absorbing the full force of the grenade explosions. Once more Specialist Rascon was critically wounded by shrapnel, but disregarded his own wounds to continue to search and aid the wounded.

Severely wounded, he remained on the battlefield, inspiring his fellow soldiers to continue the battle. After the enemy broke contact, he disregarded aid for himself, instead treating the wounded and directing their evacuation...only after being placed on the evacuation helicopter did he allow aid to be given to him.

* * *
Now fast-forward 34 years. Tuesday February 8, 2000...President Clinton awarded the nation's highest military award to Alfred Rascon for acts you just read above. He was alive to receive it.

"Thank you for looking out for people when no one else could be there for them. You have taught us once again that being American has nothing to do with place of birth, racial, ethnic origin, or religious faith. It comes straight from the heart. And your heart, sir, is an extraordinary gift to your country," said Clinton.

Rascon was humble during the Medal of Honor ceremony, noting that the honor belonged to the people who were with him that day. He asked the survivors to stand and be acknowledged at the White House ceremony.



"What you see before you is common valor that was done every day. And those of you who served in the military -- and continue to serve in the military -- are very much aware of that. What you do every day, it is duty, honor and country. And I'm deeply honored to be here," Rascon said.

-zs

Nice Move

Everyone knows it's true even though they don't want to admit it, active duty military personnel typically frown upon those of us that serve the military in a reserve status. We reservists have earned various titles over the decades: Weekend Warriors, Part-timers, Johnny One-weekend and my personal favorite, Uncle Sam's tampons (only used once a month).

However, in Operation Desert Shield/Storm the reserve component of the military really shut up active duty for a while...85% of the US forces in the gulf were reservists. Thankfully, this time around (in Gulf War II), I got the feeling that reservists were given a little more respect. I can at least say that the active duty Marines I was with treated me as an equal (thanks Yuma, AZ Marines).

One thing that I always believed is that if your civilian job coincides with your military job, 9 times out of 10, you will excel at your military job. Below is proof.

The picture taken was from Afghanistan in support of Operation Mountain Resolve in November, 2003. The Chinook CH47 helicopter is making a very unique landing to pick up some Afghan detainees suspected of questionable goings-on.

This is not the first time this pilot has made a touchdown like this. His name is Larry Murphy and he is from the PA National Guard. In the civilian world he flies EMS choppers in the Keystone Helicopter Corps.

A landing like this in the mountains of Afghanistan (or anywhere) is very tricky. They have to keep the chopper steady in the face of wind and possible small arms fire. Not to mention setting down on a building of questionable structural integrity.

It definitely takes a lot of talent and sheer nerve to pull this off.

Captain Chontosh

The first post in this series isn't one that I would exactly call 'obscure'. Although the story has been told in email forwards and you can easily find it online, I doubt it was in many newspapers outside his hometown and it's never been on the national news from what I can tell.

This is the story of Brian Chontosh. He's a Marine officer. At the time of the war he was a 1st Lt. When I met him, he was a Captain.

Twentynine Palms, CA...Marines just call it 'The Stumps'. It's the home of MCAGCC (Marine Corps Air Ground Combat Center). It's a place I've been half a dozen times. I went there for MOS School (Military Occupational Specialty School) in 1999 and I've also had the wonderful misfortune of going there another 5 times to partake in CAX (Combined Arms eXercises). CAX is an annual joint forces exercise where you become very intimate with your MOS in the desert...meanwhile there's a mock war going on all around you with tanks and jets and stuff. It's pretty cool and it truly is great desert training.

Because CAX is a combined arms exercise, the scale of the operation is larger than what one communications unit can do. Therefore, we not only utilize our equipment, but we sign out equipment from the base to use with ours. The downside is that we need to clean more equipment when it's all said and done. Cleaning equipment after a CAX is never fun. It's long hours and you have to be meticulous, but the worst part is that the gear has to be inspected before it is accepted and checked back in. So if the inspector is having a bad day, he can turn away your entire inventory if he finds one handset to still have dust in it.

So there we were in a giant staging area (aka parking lot) with all of our gear. The sun was a roasting 110 degrees and we were just breaking for lunch (or as Marines call it, chow). My marines and I were hanging out under an awning to escape a little bit of sun and this Marine walks up to us and starts talking. Obviously, we knew he was a Captain, so we treated him as such and began swapping war stories. The extent of his war story was, "Yeah, we saw some action. My Marines and I got ambushed a couple of times. We did alright though."

That was that. He told us to keep cool and have fun. Shortly after he left, another Marine came up to us and asked if we knew who that guy was. Obviously we had no clue. He proceeded to tell us this story (only with a lot more swear words)...

courtesy of vetsforfreedom.org :

On March 25, 2003, (then) First Lieutenant Chontosh, recognized his unit was caught in a “kill zone” on Highway One leading to Ad Diwaniyah in the initial campaign to Baghdad during Operation Iraqi Freedom.

After punching his vehicle through a breech, he was immediately taken under withering machine gun fire from a crew served weapon in a trench. Chontosh plowed toward the machine gunner, trusting his .50 caliber gunner to silence the enemy, which was done almost immediately. Chontosh then dismounted his vehicle and armed with only his M16A2 and a M9 pistol began to systematically clear the trench that his vehicle was now inside.

With a complete disregard for his own personal safety, Chontosh twice picked up discarded enemy rifles and continued his ferocious attack. When one of his Marines following behind found an RPG, Chontosh decided to personally use it to destroy another unlucky clump of enemy soldiers thinking they could overpower the brazen Marine.

When his dedicated and bold personal attack had ended, he had cleared over 200 meters of the enemy trench and lying behind him and at his feet were the remains of over 20 enemy fighters. For these actions, Brian Chontosh was awarded the second highest award given for combat valor, The Navy Cross.

The man standing next to Captain Chontosh is General Hagee, the Commandant of the Marine Corps.

Enough said...

-zach

The obscure and unknown

Once again I write this and once again I apologize. It has been a long while since I posted on this blog. That will be no more. This blog will be updated at least once a week.

I know the last time I posted, the next story was to be entitled, "Santa Nuts". That is a story for next Christmas. What I would like to do this time is tell a story form my past. Although it is not really a story persay as much as it is an event. Rather a milestone for me...

My mother and I were sitting in the waiting room at Norlanco Medical Center. Not the main waiting room, the smaller one in the back hall. I'm not sure why we were there, but I'm sure it was for me. It may actually have been when I swallowed a screw from an Erector Set, but I'm not sure (that's a story for another post). Anyway, where we were and why we were there isn't as important to this story as you may think. We were sitting there in the waiting room full of Highlights Magazines and Ranger Ricks and I had picked up a copy of Time magazine. I was flipping through the stories looking at the pictures, when I saw this photograph from the Civil War:

I always remembered this picture vivdly and I was able to find it today on the internet with relatively no searching. I know the picture may be strange or difficult to look at, and it was for me too. I couldn't have been older than 8 or so when I saw it.

Thinking back, I really believe this was my first image of war. I had seen snippets of movies or read books, but there was something about this photo that stuck in my mind. It wasn't a major event. No helicopters and guns. No explosions or blood and guts. It wasn't in a jungle or in Europe. It was a few hours from where I was sitting.

At that time (and for the next decade) I never thought that I would have my own experiences of war. I wasn't an athlete or even that competative. No way would an independent, choir-singing, stage-acting, comic book reading, video game playing dork ever be in a war. But there I was around 15 years later standing in Kuwait. My rifle in my hands and my bags at my feet, looking at a camp where coalition forces were gathering in numbers getting ready to invade Iraq.

I remembered this photo while I was over there. Some of the guys and I got on the topic of Gettysburg and how I lived near there and how they always wanted to go there. Talking about how we'd all keep in touch, get together sometime and go there someday after the war.

This photo to me is now obscure. It's been overrun with experiences and images that are of greater significance to who I am. But I know that I need to never forget this image. It's where a major chapter of my life started. Thank the Lord it didn't end with that chapter.

Obscurity overrun by war is what I want to write about in the next few posts. I want to make known to you some of the war stories that I have come across. Not just the ones you see on the front page, but the ones on the back pages that are just a paragraph stating that John Doe was awarded such and such a medal on such and such a date with no other details given. Or that Little Johnny from Anytown, USA was killed in the war. Some of those John Does and Little Johnnys made a difference. Not a difference that impacted the course of history or the war that they died in, but a difference to those around them and to those who have heard their stories.

I doubt that the six or seven dead Union soldiers in the image above altered the outcome of the Civil War, but if you take your time or do a little digging into the news, you may just find something worth knowing. Something that should no longer be obscure. Not necessarily to the masses, but to you.

-zach

Poop Story #2: Poop Shovel

Ok...time for the next poop story. I think you've all been waiting long enough. So here you go...

Around the same time that Oliver had his pooper poked, our pooper got clogged too. Toilets everywhere were regurgitating unwanted solids, things weren't draining, the basement was getting unnaturally wet, etc...

We had the problem about a month prior and we thought we were in the clear. Apparently not. The vent pipe in the yard had a new habit of vomiting used toilet paper and solid watse. mmmm.

So we called the Roto-Rooter guy. He came post haste.

In he pulls with his poop-mobile and he unloads all of his poop tools. I went in the house and start to do some work. After about 15 minutes, I look out in the yard and he was standing there staring at the vent pipe...I decided that if I'm gonna get this guy out of here within the first hour I should probably go help. Out I go. I started by making small talk blah blah blah. Then he told me that he seems to have hit something strange. I think, "Hey it's a drainpipe...There's probably all sorts of crap down there". Ha ha...heh...uh...ok that wasn't funny.

I asked if I could take a look and lo and behold there was something weird down there. Looking at it, I thought it might have been a dead rat. For a split second I imagined sitting down on the toilet and having a rat jump up at my jubblies. Not a good thought.

He got a really long stick and poked at it. 'clink clink' It wasn't a rat. My next thought was of us digging up the back yard because the pipe was broken. Thankfully, that thought was diffused quickly because it appeared to have moved when he poked it. So...the poop-man goes off to his poop-truck and comes back with another poop-tool. It's a really long metal stick with a little grabby-hand at the end. My thought immediately jumped to a sadistic proctologist's tool.

He asked it I could help him with it. We were going to grab whatever it was and pull it out. After about 10 minutes of "Ok...close the hand. Damn. Missed." We finally got a hold of what I thought to be the rat's tail. We lifetd it out and...it was a trowel. A very poop covered, worn looking, gardening trowel.

It was strange, but as soon as I saw it I knew exactly when and how tat thing got down there. Maribeth, Declan and I were all doing yardwork one day about 4 to 6 months prior. We got rid of a so-called 'decorative' landscaping feature: a round blob of rocks with bushes on it. Maribeth had the gardening tools out because she was gardening by the lilac bushes and I was scooping up the last of the rock-blob. Declan was behind me and I heard this 'clack clack clack'. I thurned around and there was lil man. He had popped the vent pipe cover off and was 'stirring' the weeder in the pipe and had the cultivator in his other hand. I grabbed the weeder, put the lid back on and got the cultivator from him...it never dawned on me that he had already dropped the trowel down the pipe.

Needless to say, I am glad we were able to retrieve the obstruction and this will definitely be brought up in his teenage years as leverage...I kept the trowel as evidence.

up next..."Santa Nuts"

Poop Story #1: Cat Bowels

Well. It has been a little while since our last posting. This time we were legitimately busy. Before I go into the lovely subject of cat bowels, I want to backtrack and talk about the housework we wanted done by Dec 1st. The list was as follows (followed by the progress made):

1. a finished dining room (DONE!!...just needs some crown moulding and paint touch up)
2. a bartop installed (almost done. Needs trim and grout)
3. a countertop that doesn't move when it's leaned on (DONE!!)
4. hood over the stove (nope)
5. tin ceiling installed (we ordered and painted samples...we need to order the rest)

All in all, we're not doing too bad.

Ok back to the poop. Oliver seemed to be getting fat over the course of a few days, so when I came home and he was meowing and lethargic, we got concerned. He was running all over the house squatting so we came to the conclusion that his pooper was clogged. We called about 6 different vets but to no avail. They all referred us to the PETS emergency place in Lancaster. All other optins exhausted, we decided to call a friend of ours who works in a vet (assisting with surgeries and such). Angie came over with a little plastic bag full of stuff..."hmmm...what could that stuff be?" I wondered.

I didn't have to wait long. She opened the bag and pulled out a rubber glove and some KY Jelly. Here we go. On the tile floor with a towel in hand and a cat in the other she asked me to hold him down. Ugh...the glove goes on, next is the KY Jelly aaaand 'bloop'! In it goes. Ollie didn't like that very much.

After violating the cat we waited to see if things would get flowing again. Nope. Then the phone rings. It was one of the vets we had called. He said that as long as the cat is peeing, we should be good to wait until the morning but we should take him in to get an enema. Figuring that we traumatized Ollie enough we decided we would wait until the morning to take him to the vet.

The sun came up and Ollie was off to the vet. Maribeth took him in and all was well. It turns out that he wasn't stopped up at all...it was his peeper not his pooper. He had a urinary tract infection and his bladder was full. So medications were prescribed and passed along to Oliver's insides and he is doing much better.

Coming up next: Poop Story #2: Poop Shovel

"Hello, deer..."

My Thursday night commute home always seems to be a fight to stay awake. It's not the most visually stimulating route. It's full of trees, road, trees and more trees. As pretty as they are to look at, trees too can get boring...

I picked up lil man and started on the treck home. Declan was in the back munching on pretzel sticks and we were both listening to a great mix of fun, Declan-friendly songs. Kermit and Fozzie were just about to lead into the second chorus of "Movin' Right Along" when lo and behold a deer magically appears in front of my car. I put my foot on the brake and swerved to the left (the deer was crossing from left to right, plus there was no opposing traffic). My headlights traveled over the deer's backside, across empty road and then..."Oh look another deer".

I was no more than 3 feet away from them. I moved my foot from the brake to the accelerator and swerved back to the right a little bit, aiming for the narrow spot of empty road between them.

Woosh! Right between them.

Declan got the sense that something wasn't right because as soon as we cleared them and I slowed down to pull over, he started crying.

I pulled over, put on my four-ways and hopped out of the car. Walking around the back to get to the passenger rear door, I checked the driver side of my car for deer snot and the passenger side of my car for deer poop. It must have scared something out of them. Clean car...all the way around.

Also, oddly enough I saw a police car coming down the road toward me with its lights on. I thought, "Great...I almost hit 2 deer and my prize is a ticket for speeding."

I opened lil man's door and he was still crying a little bit. I asked him if he was ok and he replied with a little, shaky 'yeah'. Then I started smiling at him and asked him if he saw the deer. Again I got a 'yeah', but it was a lot more excited and no tears followed it. So I knew all was well.

By now, the police car had made a U-turn and was pulling in behind me. I walked back around and got into the car like a good little driver. The cop walked up to the door, asked if everything was ok and if I had hit a deer. Declan started to get a little fussy again, but I proceeded to tell him that I drove between them and didn't hit anything. He asked if the little guy in the back was ok too. I told him 'yes' and that was that. Back to his car he went.

I found it odd that the response time to my near accident was less than 4 seconds. However, as I drove about a 1/2 mile down the road, I saw another police car parked with its lights on, another car in front of it and a deer lying in the road. That answered my question.

So all in all, I'd say that this commute home takes first prize for most eventful. Let's hope it is never bumped down to second place.

The Lone Brave

One little brave stood alone in a land that was unknown to him. He was in a land far from the badlands that his people knew so well, far from what he called home. The little Indian stood; alert to the unfamiliar surroundings. Then by what seemed to be instinct, the mighty brave dropped to the ground, his ear pressed flush to the Earth, listening to a distant sound. A sound he had heard before. Approaching from the east were six enemies. Time was short. Preparations had to be made. He had the element of surprise. His only path to success was to ambush them.

Gathering his personal effects and stowing them neatly in his pouch, the lone brave donned his feathered headdress. Reaching to the Earth, his fingertips outstretched, he ran them along the soft ground scooping up dark mud. Almost ceremoniously, he applied the Earth to his face. He took the hatchet from his belt and gripped it tightly in his hand. He was ready. Now able to hear his enemy approaching, he clambered into a nearby tree.

Peering around the branches and leaves he squinted into the darkness, nothing he could have done could have prepared him for what his eyes now beheld. A man was walking towards him, but the man looked to have been buried long ago. Holes in the decayed flesh showed bloodless muscle beneath. Torn and tattered clothing hung off of his lifeless form. Next to him was what appeared to be a pale looking man with knives for teeth. With his hood hiding his face, all that could be seen were two small, red eyes. A golden amulet glistened on his chest. Following closely behind were four other beings that the brave could never have imagined. A man clothed in a smooth white material with what seemed to be a clear round helmet over his head and face. A giant lizard walking upright appeared to be talking to the man with the sharp teeth. In the rear were two females. One had a beautiful dress with what looked like wings protruding from her back. The other had strange ears and a tail...resembling a dog.

Mustering what courage he had, the mighty warrior leapt from the tree, hatchet in hand. To his disbelief, the group of people ran toward him, their arms outstretched and each of them holding some sort of satchel. Before he could move or react at all they were all around him. Then almost in unison, they all cried, “Trick or treeeat!"

Laughing, the mighty brave reached into his deerskin pouch and pulled out some candy. He jovially dropped some in each of the bags. Then, unwrapping one for himself he stood laughing, eating his lollipop.

Housework and egg nog...

Ok...the date I have put in place to finish with the larger projects of the downstairs is December 1st. "Why", you ask? Well, to me the answer is simple: I want to enjoy Christmas this year.

I'm not implying that I didn't enjoy Christmas last year, in fact the holiday spirit was high in our house. It was Declan's first Christmas and that was enough to make it one of the best holiday seasons ever. Although, you have to agree that there is a difference in the potency of the holiday spirit when, on Christmas Eve day, one is sanding spackle whilst listening to Bing Crosby croon away 'White Christmas'. It felt that what made my Christmas white was spackle dust and not snow. Not to mention that our Christmas tree was constructed out of creatively cut wrapping paper and taped to our bedroom wall.

This year however, we have a finished bay window where we can trim and display the Christmas tree, we have a finished stairwell where we can hang the stockings, we have a finished archway between the foyer and living room to hang garland and we have a finished foyer where we can hang some mistletoe for Christmas smooching.

What I want for Christmas, or should I say in time for Christmas is the following:

1. I want a finished dining room where we can sit Christmas eve with Declan and put out cookies and carrots for Santa and his reindeer.
2. I want a bartop installed so I can sit there and enjoy warm egg nog spiked with...whatever.
3. I want a countertop that doesn't move when it's leaned on; where Maribeth can bake her wonderful pumpkin bread on Christmas eve.
4. I want a hood over the stove that can suck up the horrid smell of any Christmas cookies that I may burn.
5. And I wouldn't mind having the tin ceiling installed in the kitchen, that way when I'm flat on my back from the egg nog, I'll have something pretty to look at.

All in all, I think the above list is possible. 30 days is all we have left. That's plenty of time. I think that if we buckle down and maybe take a day or two off of work, Maribeth and I will be able finish all of the items on our wish list. We'll be able to relax this holiday season...and enjoy Christmas.

Here's to egg nog...cheers!

When the bough breaks...

Maribeth's brake light had not been working for quite some time. So on the way home the other night I decided to stop at Advance Auto Parts and pick up a replacement bulb. And naturally my spontaneity got the best of me at 8:30 at night and I decided to change her bulb.

So I gathered all I needed to do the job. One replacement bulb? check. One flashlight? check. One mysterious rustling in the trees? check. Wait. One what? Yes. A mysterious rustling in the trees. hmm...I have a flashlight why not take a look? Well, I like to think that my fear of el Chupacabra would be one good reason not to look...but that's another blog entry.

One flashlight sweep of the trees showed nothing abnormal and no red glowing chupacabra eyes, so back to work I went. Out with the old bulb...in with the...in with..with...drat. It didn't fit. I guess I shouldn't have put my stock in the guy behind the counter at the autoparts store. Oh well. Time to clean up. I start putting things back and all of a sudden I hear the mysterious rustling again...then I hear a hard thwump!

I pointed my flashlight in the direction of the noise and lo and behold...I see a little furry brown lump lying on the ground. Moving closer I notice that it's a squirrel. It either had to be knocked out cold or else its little neck snapped when it hit the ground. Either way, it's not moving. I creep next to it and poke it with the flashlight. "Eee Eee Eeeeee". It got on all fours and started screaming. It looks like that's all it had in it because a second later it was lying on the ground again, exhausted.

I go inside and yell up to Maribeth, "Come outside. Quick! In front of the garage." I grabbed a box and a towel and head back outside. Maribeth comes out with Declan and there we all stood; staring at a squirrel. As I retold my story about the rustling in the trees and the thud, I scooped him up in the towel. We took turns petting the little guy and placed him in the box.

Initially, we placed the box outside. Then, in all my wondrous softiness, I decided that it was too cold for the lil fella outside and brought him into the laundry room. I pushed the cats away and into the kitchen and closed the door. I picked up the lil guy (in the towel) and held him for a little. I had never seen a squirrel this close before. They are actually really pretty. They have little ears like a hamster, a thin tail with lots of fluff, their coats are really soft and their teeth are huuge! At that point I decided to put him down. I crushed a walnut, put it in there with him and went upstairs.

I started watching a movie and naturally, my childish curiosity kicked in and I went downstairs to have another look. I went into the laundry room and turned on the light. As soon as the light came on, the little guy freaked out and started to thrash inside the box. Having only my pajamas on and no slippers, I decided it best to go upstairs and put some real clothes on. Maribeth was already sleeping, so of course I woke her up and told her about how well he was doing. I convinced her to come downstairs and together we crept into the laundry room. we picked up the box, and set it outside on it's side so that it could get out if it so desired. And once again we climbed up the stairs. Maribeth under the covers and me on the covers watching the movie again.

When it was over I decided to check on him one last time. I grabbed the flashlight and down I went. I peeked in the box and there he was. All curled up in the towel. But this time, he wasn't breathing. No movement at all. With a sigh, I set the box upright and gently pulled the towel out of the box. He slid off and onto the bottom, motionless. I picked up the box and walked across the yard. I gave him one last rub on the nose and said, "If you're actually a really sound sleeper, then I'm sorry for this." And with that, I tossed him onto the woodpile, turned and went back inside.

Alas, it was a valiant effort. I guess last night was its night to go. It could have ended lying there on the cold wet earth, but it didn't. It ended wrapped in a towel, in a warm place, and with a few walnuts to munch on.

Goodbye little friend.

What Exactly is a Swarr? Part 2 of 5

What exactly is a Swarr? That is the million dollar question that I've been asking too.

On Monday, September 11th, 2006 I was an official Swarr for 2 years. Amazing isn’t it? And some people actually still like me…



I became a Swarr one beautiful September day what seems like ages ago. I said “I do” and that was that. No turning back now. I like to think I have adapted well to this new family’s style. And by “adapted well”, I mean “learned to survive”.

It is a cutthroat world where I now live. I am forced to belch in public, forced to partake in countless discussions regarding bodily functions and I can’t even begin to describe the lessons in patience I have been forced to learn. On the upside, I now have a whole new appreciation for art, and I have realized that merciless pranks and jibes are really just expressions of love (thanks Gabe. You teach your lessons well).

My skin has thickened and my wit has quickened. On top of it all, my circle of deeply loved family has widened. And that enough is worth it all.

So all in all I feel that two years ago, a good decision was made…no mater how many times I may step back, look at these people with the utmost curiosity, and be grateful I will soon have my degree in Psychology.

-Maribeth

"Ah-ne"

Ok. The time it takes us to update this this is getting out of hand. I think the reason for the delay is because there isn't much going on that is significant enough to write about, so we're constantly waiting for the next big thing to blog...so I have decided that no matter how mundane, we will blog. And blog often.

However, this one is not mundane. It is significant. Read on...

Last night was just like any other night. We played with Declan, read him a story, gave him a bottle, said prayers, gave kisses and turned on his music to fall asleep. Declan got fussy as I left the room, but that is the norm. He will fall asleep.

I went back to our bedroom and sat there piddling around on my laptop. I had noticed that lil man had stopped fussing and that his CD had played through. Maribeth was already sleeping, so I went about my business of playing games on my laptop when I noticed little Declan noises coming from little Declan's room. Nothing alarming, but I stopped to listen. It sounded as though he had fallen asleep and was making noises while dreaming. I thought, "Hey...why not turn his music back on and let him sleep to it?". So over to his room I went.

I opened the door a little, sneaked over to the radio and turned on his Kermit CD. I turned to leave and I saw that Declan was standing up in his pack and play (his 'bed') with his bottle, making faces and making tiny little laughing noises. I walked over to him and said, "Hey, bud. What are you doing?". He glanced at me and then pointed across his room to the area where the radio and rocking chair were and said, "Ah-ne."

I looked in the direction he was pointing and thought that he meant "Ernie" because Kermit was singing (Jim Henson had been both Kermit and Ernie, so they sound similar). It didn't make sense to me though that he would think it was Ernie singing because we must have listed to those songs a hundred times and he knows that it is 'Termit' and not Ernie. I looked at him and said, "What?"

Once again, while still making faces and noises he pointed and said, "Ah-ne." I asked him, "Do you mean Ernie?". He replied with a cute little "Noo".

Then it clicked...He was imitating someone. You could tell. His attention was focused, he was making faces and little laughing noises.

He wasn't saying 'Ernie'. I took a deep breath and hesitantly asked, "Do you mean Arna?".

Without skipping a beat, he replied, "Yeah".

With an odd feeling, I kissed him goodnight, walked over to the door and said, "Tell Great Grandma not to keep you up all night" and pulled it shut. He didn't fuss at all.

_______________________________________________________

For those of you that may not know, Arna is Declan's great-grandma. She passed away some time ago and Declan had never met her before.

We had been over at my parent's house this weekend, and coincidentally enough we showed him a picture of her and had told him her name was Arna.

So that's the story in a nutshell...If it was you...thanks, Gramdma.

-zs

I knew it....

Well, I guess I can see the future. This is the first update on here in a looong time. I had a feeling that would happen. Sorry about that. Maribeth and I were getting so caught up in all the goings on and--uh..ok...so there's not much going on.

The only real news we have is that Maribeth got her new job!!! Yippee!! Congrats, honey! She starts in less than two weeks. It was a huge relief when she got the news. She absolutely deserves it. Good job, MJ!

Oh and I got my discharge papers in the mail on Friday. I had actually been out since June 29th, but it didn't really sink in until I got the certificate in the mail. That chapter is closed.

Not much else is new. I have a feeling that work on the house is going to increase as it is not so blasted hot outside. Hopefully this weather is the start of the downfall of summer heat. I for one will be keeping my fingers crossed. Heat = grumpy.

The "What exactly is a Swarr" profiles will continue with none other than Maribeth herself.

Not much has changed on the Declan front either. Once in a while he spits out a sentence here and there. It's pretty cute:

wangedown-nwok = I want to get down and walk

See? Cute. I win. Actually Declan wins. He always wins. Even when he's bad, he still wins. Just this weekend he pitter-pattered over to the cat's water and . "Uh-oh" he says staring at the mess. I walked over and told him (for the 1,000,000th time) "Kitty water is yuck. It is not to play in". And what does he do? He shakes his little cute-infested finger and says, "No, no, no" while looking at the mess. He turns, walks away, rubs his soaked overalls and says, "Ahwet" (All wet). See? He always wins. cute.

Needless to say, the posts will continue (and in a more timely manner). Hopefully the content is fresh and exciting enough for all of you.

Talk to you soon.

-Zach

MEOW HAS RETURNED!!

Good news everyone! I got a call from the venue where we had the company picnic...they needed Animal Control to show up to pick up a wild tiger! Yippee!

After work I drove over to daycare and picked up Declan and then off to get Meow. I walked inside and there he was, sitting on a watermelon looking all mischevious. I scooped him up and walked him out to the car where Declan was excitedly waiting. I opened the car door and handed the little tiger to the little man. He said "Meow!" and grabbed him and hugged him, kicked his little feet, and gave him a biiiig kiss on the nose.

The were together for the rest of the night...