There and Back Again....A Courie Tale

Well, for those of you who have known me a long time, I was blogging before blogging was cool. I wrote of our travels throughout Europe from 2001-2005 in the uncool, "Germany Journal." I have been told it was amusing. The reality is that I find the need to write everything down as I have the memory of a toilet bowl. For a reasonably intelligent individual, I cannot seem to remember much of anything useful. I do remember the names of my children which from henceforth will be known as Mr. Hawking and Little Miss Trouble. We'll call my husband the Sailor, for lack of anything more creative. I was going to call him the Lawyer, but he seemed to take offense at that. I will have to think up something witty to call myself.

Regardless, I am starting up my "blogging" again in order to chronicle our next big adventure: our travels during our move from the Blue Ridge, through the Blue Sky and onward to the Evergreen state. In military speak, we PCS (permanent change of station) from the Army JAG (Judge Advocate General) school to Fort Lewis, now known as Joint Base Lewis McChord (JBLM). (I guarantee that if you follow my writings long enough you will be officially proficient in military acronyms.) During this time, we've decided to see a bit of America in transit. My usually unorganized Sailor has the trip chronicled out by days, hotels, things to see as well as a Google Map of many interesting sites (hello SPAM museum? If you don't believe me, click here: ) in which we should broaden our horizons. We have jokingly discussed trying barbecue in every state we visit, to which the Sailor quips: "Barbecue is a noun, not a verb and if it's not pork, it's not barbecue." To my darling Texas friends, you'll have to take it up with the Sailor as he maintains that brisket is not real barbecue. He is such a pig snob. We have also in our more stressful moments discussed ouzo in every state, which is a salute to our sailing days of a shot of ouzo in every port safely reached. If you were to care to inquire, I prefer Ouzo Number 12. YAMAS! OPA! I am also convinced that in another life, I was really Greek. Perhaps I shall refer to myself as the Greek Goddess. :)

I don't know that each move with the military gets any easier. In fact, this one may be our most difficult of all for a variety of reasons, but I have to say that the advice I got from my mom when we entered the Army still rings true for me each time we change ports, "Make it an adventure." And so we will. I invite you to share our travels. If the past is any indication of the future, I can guarantee it won't be boring.