OK, it was Divine

I transported the now-solidified concoction the ¼ mile or so to my room, where it was placed back in the refrigerator. A couple nights later (the anticipation was killing us) I broke out my knife and cut a row of about one and a half inch square pieces. My room mate and I cleaned up the row with amazing alacrity, addicted would be putting it mildly. We decided that, for the sake of our own health, we’d have to share the delight with others. I took the TTC (with its contents) back to work, informed those who had seen me ‘making’ them that they were welcome to partake, and we had a regular flow of ‘visitors’ until the TTC was clean. EVERYONE was VERY impressed with the taste. My own opinion is that the peanut butter cups in brownie form actually tasted better than the original. Don’t know how that could be, but my opinion was echoed by the majority of those (15 or so) Marines who had a piece.

Semper Fi, Jon G.

Enter the Sun

Since the sun caused this problem, I figured, why not let the sun provide a solution? It takes two hours for the sun to warm water for sun tea from room temperature to the point where it is so hot that your fingers will literally be scalded squeezing the water out of the teabags before refrigerating the tea. So—into the sun went the two ‘buckets’ of solidified mixture of chocolate, peanut butter and wax paper. Two hours later, I was out there with a pair of pliers, carefully withdrawing every wrapper from the transmogrified (I could have used the word ‘transubstantiated,’ but as that has a specific religious connotation, refrained from doing so) substance, meticulously scraping ALL of the chocolate and peanut butter off both sides of each wrapper, and discarding it. Having accomplished this for all the wrappers in both ‘buckets,’ I then poured the contents of each ‘bucket’ (thoroughly scraping every last bit from the sides) into a Tupperware-type container (TTC). This process took some time, of course, and attracted some attention—it’s not every day one sees a Marine officer standing out in the 115 degree heat for forty five minutes mucking about with buckets of liquefied brown goo (LBG)—and within a very short time I had no shortage of companions willing to participate in the consumption of (but not that interested in the production of) the finished product.

Once the LBG was evenly distributed in the TTC, the lid was applied, the contents properly sealed, and the TTC was placed in a refrigerator (under twenty four hour guard, of course).

Semper Fi, Jon G.

Solid Messy Mass

Not being an optimist is problematic at times like this, for the tendency to despair can preempt hope. However, the side of me that wanted peanut butter and chocolate was stronger than the side of me that wanted to chuck the ‘buckets’ away in frustration. Logic and reason argued strongly that the congealed mass of mixed up melted chocolate, peanut butter nuggets and little brown wax-paper cups, now solidified at room temperature, would be nigh impossible to eat without ingesting an unsatisfactory and unsavory amount of wax paper. Additionally, the prospect of the mess (all over my hands, all over my face, and who knows where else) was not appealing.

However, the memory of how those peanut butter cups tasted had been etched into my brain housing group almost at the top of my internal list of most savory tastes. I could not just accept the fact that I could not eat them. I would at least have to open the ‘buckets,’ survey the situation, and allow my unsatisfied desires—augmented by the smell of the freshly opened container of peanut putter cups—to offer a solution.

So, I opened the buckets, and this is what I saw. It looked pretty hopeless, but not TOTALLY hopeless. An idea was forming in the dark recesses of my chocolate-loving consciousness. Like the chair saga, this has a happy ending—but like the chair saga, you’ll have to endure a few more ‘chapters.’

Semper Fi, Jon G.

It Started With...

The “It” I am talking about here are Trader Joe’s Peanut Butter Cups. I had received a ‘bucket’ of these peanut butter cups from Rani & Kristin back in the spring (when temperatures were a little lower on the Fahrenheit scale). Inside the ‘bucket’ are a slew of peanut butter cups, each in a brown wax paper mini-cup-cake type wrapper. My room mate here (a Navy Commander) and I agreed they were the best peanut butter cups, hands down, that we had EVER tasted (no offense to the other manufacturers, who do their best, I’m sure—and after all is said and done, I’ve never encountered a peanut butter cup that was not an extreme delight to my palate. We’re talking degrees of excellence, here).

So, imagine our delight when we discovered, in ANOTHER package sent our way by Rani and Kristin (you guys are very generous, thanks for pampering us), not one but TWO of these delicious ‘buckets.’ Ah, but our enthusiasm was somewhat dampened by a closer inspection of the ‘buckets’—the contents seemed to have been liquefied by the heat. Below is a picture of the objects of our consideration, perhaps you can understand our concern. It was this specific study of these specific items that resulted in the earlier post to this blog, “Sad Moratorium.”

Semper Fi, Jon G.

VTC

Before I dive into the main topic of this posting, I want to thank Uncle Ron & Aunt Marcia for their care package. Despite my earlier moratorium on sending chocolate due to the heat, ALL of the chocolate that you sent made it in good shape (as I type this, I’m enjoying a cup of coffee and some Peanut Butter M&Ms). I am overwhelmed by the variety and quantity of items that you sent, and the Marines in my shop (who are equally enjoying your generosity) join me in voicing their grateful thanks.

I had a pretty rare opportunity to talk to Sheryl & Joshua for an extended period of time (an hour vice the usual ½ hour) through the media of a video telephone conference (VTC). The rooms at either end are pretty sterile, and the dominant feature on each end is the conference table, but it seemed we were able to ‘connect’ somewhat better than through telephone alone. It was a great gift to be able to see expression. Turns out that an hour is almost too much (for Joshua, anyway), though perhaps a ½ hour would have seen a little short. Joshua had some ‘props’ to prompt conversation, that was Sheryl’s idea, and it seemed to help ‘loosen’ him up a little.

Semper Fi, Jon G.

A Friend Drops In

Some time ago a friend from back home who is also deployed was able to stop by for a short visit. I was kicking myself, after his visit, for not remembering to get a picture of us. Well, Agur stopped by again today, and we were able to spend about ten minutes catching up, AND I remembered to get a picture. It was really encouraging to talk to him and to find out that he is doing well—he does not have an email account, so staying in touch is basically impossible. I offered him some of the beneficence from several of my care packages (which I keep at my desk), but he said he was more than adequately cared for—and we both acknowledged what a blessing the Community of supporters we have back home has been. Thanks again, all of you, from the bottom of our hearts.

Semper Fi, Jon G.

Over My Head

There are a lot of things that I would not want hanging over my head. However, thanks to my brother Matt, I can say that I’ve got nothing hanging over my head except what I specifically want there. It’s taken awhile, as there has been a substantial delay in finding a piece of glass the right size, but BMW is now about as overwhelmingly represented as possible. OK, you can see that there is a token HD calendar in the lower right of the photograph, and a picture of someone’s wife on a Buell, but there is no escaping the dominance, both in sheer space and spectacular representation, that BMW has on this particular wall.

All of that being true, and no apologies to BMW, my son’s drawing of his hand (accomplished together before I deployed) in the center right is infinitely more meaningful than any of the other stuff. The former represents man-made stuff that will ultimately be junk. The latter represents something that God created that has eternal value. I include the last paragraph in this post just so that you’ll know that I may be a long way from home, but I have not lost all sense of perspective…

Semper Fi, Jon G.

Partly Wrong

This is one occasion where I’m delighted to say I was partly wrong. Yes, we’re still talking about chocolate. Yesterday I received a great care package from Jim and Barbara full of an eclectic mix of useful and not-so-useful but very enjoyable items. Drink mixes for hot & cold beverages, pictures from home, magazines, a variety of snacks and grub, and, YES, chocolate. The chocolate was mostly in large BAR form (maybe increased mass is helpful in this case, hard to tell), individually wrapped, and of the several varieties they included in the package, it appears that all of them will be JUST FINE. That being said, we are just getting into summer weather here, and though daily temperatures peak at about 115 (the minimum is around 85), we’ll soon be peaking at about 125, and figuring an additional 10 degrees for anything inside a metal shipping container—it doesn’t look good for the average variety chocolate. High temperatures seem particularly tough on the chocolate peanut butter mixes, like peanut butter cups, which is lamentable, as this type of chocolate is at the very top of my personal list.

My heartfelt thanks to Jim and Barbara for thinking of me and making a specific effort to send me meaningful ‘stuff.’ I received a gift from Joshua for Father’s Day which Jim also had a part in: Joshua painted a surf board at a paint-your-own-pottery place at a Dad’s and Kids outing some time back which he was able to go to in part due to Jim’s generosity and sponsorship. I feel very blessed.

Semper Fi, Jon G.

Sad Moratorium

I was just consuming the last of the desserts of Jim & Dana’s generosity, when I was overwhelmed yesterday by the receipt of two care packages, one from Joe & Helen and one from Kristen and Rani. I want to say a special thank you to Jim & Dana, Joe & Helen, and Kristen & Rani—your gifts are all deeply appreciated, and all greatly enjoyed. It is with deep regret and almost inconsolable sorrow that I must inform all who are caring for me so substantially that the season for shipping chocolate (or similar confection with a low melting point) in this part of the world has come to an end. I routinely put a large jar out in the sun to make tea, and after three hours the water is hot enough to scald the hand that removes the tea bags. Packages in route to base are often staged in metal shipping containers in the direct sunlight for a day or two, which does just not do pleasant things to chocolate coated pretzels.

Chocolate lovers everywhere will understand when I say that messy though it may be in the eating, and as extensive and tedious as the cleanup required may be, the consuming of chocolate is worth it. However, despite my willingness to afford the time to this pursuit, the Corps is less willing to see it my way (ie, I can’t spend TOO much time away from my desk in selfish pursuit). A friend of mine received some chocolate covered expresso beans that actually appeared to be liquid jello in the plastic bag. He allowed the bag to to cool to room temperature, after which he consumed the contents like a chocolate bar. I have two large plastic containers of pretty much the best peanut butter cups I’ve ever tasted, but they are congealed into a glued-together mess. My plan is to allow the containers to sit in the sun, when the contents are sufficiently liquid carefully remove each of the paper ‘cups’ that each candy is wrapped in, insure the peanut butter/chocolate mixture is proportionate, allow the mixture to cool, and then consume. I’m open to advice—any one have a better plan?

Semper Fi, Jon G.

"Shot"

I was shot three times three days ago—by a needle. Twice by direction, once by election. It sort of amazes me when I hear of someone in the Service making a big deal about getting some “shot.” While it is true that the Uniform Code of Military Justice (UCMJ) provides more rights to those under its law than practically any other code, it is also true that those under the UCMJ (during my time in the Service, all voluntarily) have relinquished what are considered basic rights to most citizens of the United States: some of our right to liberty and almost all of our right to the pursuit of happiness. The military performs a sacred duty to the rest of the nation, and though the two ultimate goals of leadership, accomplishment of the mission and welfare of the troops, are generally co-equal, accomplishment of the mission is ultimately the only thing that matters. To paraphrase General Lee, “The great dilemma of the soldier is that he must order the death of the thing to which he has dedicated his life to serve.” To get back to the issue at hand, the military believes that in order to insure the mission is accomplished, given the risk of exposure to certain dangers, it is acceptable to suffer a slight decrease in troop strength to insure the mission is accomplished (without preventive measures, some of these threats would eliminate almost 100% of troops exposed to them). That is their duty to the nation.

My question to those who believe they have the right to disobey an order regarding some inoculation (to which there is a minimal chance of an effect in their life, which effect is immediately treatable and for which the military will take full responsibility), would they also refuse an order to go on a patrol, stand a post, or “take a hill,” (orders that contain a high probability of engagement with deadly force, which effects may or may not be immediately treatable by military medical personnel)? How seriously do people consider their oath of service?

Semper Fi, Jon G.

Fourteen

That is the number of years, to the day, that I have been married to Sheryl. I do not have the luxury of a plethora of discretionary time here to compose poetry or develop a lengthy dissertation on the depths of my love, and I don’t think ordering a singing telegram would quite convey my sentiments. I am confident and bold, even if my expression is not couched in iambic pentameter, formed in a sonnet, or rhymed in the Shakespearian or Spencerian tradition, to say “I love you, Sheryl.” Though it is hard to be away from you on this day (somehow a little more difficult than all the other days we are apart), the essence of our relationship and what it represents is what lends meaning to this separation. I am not thankful for the separation, but I am thankful that I can be a part of providing the potential opportunity for the development of a wholly different life for a set of people who never had the opportunity to make the kinds of choices within the framework of the freedoms we’ve enjoyed. Thank you for the many sacrifices you have made that have enabled my service—I do not even pretend to know the depths of those sacrifices, or the many areas of your life and being in which they have been made. Thank you for working hard, and inspiring me to work hard, at understanding yourself, knowing me, and choosing to love me despite what you found. I thank God for you, and His grace that gives us strength to stay committed to Him and to each other.

Semper Fi, Jon G.

Unexpected Blessing

I tend to believe that the title of this entry is somewhat redundant—not completely so, but mostly so. My view is that blessings are surprise gifts from God, any ‘good work’ that I do is so meaningless compared to the ‘pit’ that my own choices and actions have landed me as to be insignificant (certainly not noteworthy enough to result in an attitude of entitlement on my part), so it is fully the grace of God—and those who are His instruments—by which I am blessed. Hence, any good thing is unexpected, and inherent in the word ‘blessing’ is the undeserved aspect of the beneficence. The BLUF (here more of a BLITM—‘Bottom Line In The Middle’ vice ‘Bottom Line Up Front’) is that I have been unexpectedly blessed by the San Juan Capistrano Seniors.

If you go to Sheryl’s Archived blogs (Thursday, March 30, "On Being Adopted"), you’ll learn how our family became connected with the San Juan Capistrano Seniors, and I want to thank them for the difference they have made to our family; for how meaningful it is for those of us serving in the Global War on Terror (GWOT) to know that folks back home support us; and that as difficult as it is to be away from our families, maintaining the ‘front lines’ of this war far beyond our borders is perhaps the most precious yet meaningful thing we can do in honoring our oath of service to the Constitution, our Country, and our Leaders.

Semper Fi, Jon G.

Lethargy

I really appreciate all the prayer and support over the last three months, it has made such a difference. I continue to be healthy. My tooth-that-needs-a-root-canal has been a non-issue. The FaBQ has provided a necessary escape from the ‘office.’ The ‘projects’ that I have undertaken to address specific requirements have been successful. I have been able to delegate some of my work-load to others, making my own ‘load’ more manageable. I have found a way to start my day with two devotionals. I have been showered with care through moto-mails, packages, and letters (most recently by Jim & Dana and my brother Greg). The snacks, believe it or not, directly impact how much of my work gets done, as the trip to the DFAC takes about 45 minutes out of my day, minutes which I save by eating healthy and tasteful snacks at my desk.

I am struggling, however, with lethargy. You’ve heard, I’m sure, of the “Fight or Flight” responses to immediate crisis/stress. Well, this deployment is a long term ongoing crisis/stress in my life, and my tendency in these situations is to disengage and withdraw. I’ve found the best way to do that is sleep. I’ve recently begun ‘trading’ the time between 0600 and 0800 in the morning, supposedly spent doing PT, with sleep. I’ve also entered the “doldrums” phase of the deployment, where the wind has gone out of my sails, the monotony seems unending, and the apparent futility of current meaningless activity to somehow improve the situation begins to create depression. Hopefully this phase will quickly pass, but regardless, I require discipline and focus to daily fulfill the trust of those who’ve seen fit to assign me crucial responsibilities (at considerable cost to others and at significant remuneration to myself).

Semper Fi, Jon G.

Improvise

Ready-to-use automatic-drip ground coffee is not in abundance in our shop. One of the Marines has a friend that works at a Starbucks, and he received 40 pounds of top-grade Starbucks coffee beans. We have a bean grinder, one of those little hand-held jobbers, it is 110v 60 cycle, power here is 220v 50 cycle, and it is difficult to find a place to operate it—but somehow these guys manage. Myself, I’m hardly a ‘purist,’ employing coffee preparation and usage procedures that most coffee drinkers find (at the least) ghastly, even (at the most) despicable. To my own mind, however, there are two things that drive my methods—it’s the caffeine that’s important, not the taste (necessarily, but if taste can be maintained, so much the better); and the simpler, more efficient and easier the process (I’m lazy), the better. Hence, I always make a whole pot (you’ve got to get the water, get the filter, measure the coffee, and brew the stuff—these are essential chores, whether you brew one cup or ten, so you minimize work by always brewing ten and getting more return for your required labor). I always use two filters (filters are cheap, coffee is expensive, reducing the speed at which the water flows through the filter thickens the coffee while not increasing the amount utilized for each pot). If available, I put a sprinkle of cinnamon on the grounds to reduce the bitterness of the coffee. Finally, I always turn off the pot immediately upon conclusion of brewing. This prevents the coffee getting that nasty baked/burnt too-long-on-the-burner flavor that I find particularly distasteful. Now this brings up the need for improvisation. My coffee cup, given to me by my sister-in-law Sandi, has photographs of my family in it that cannot be microwaved. So, perceiving my dilemma, a Marine offered up a plastic Gatorade bottle for me to use as a ‘nuker’ container. The container was a little tall for the microwave, so we used his knife (a very dangerous looking weapon, I might add) to cut the top off. Voila. I have all I need to keep the caffeine flowing.

Semper Fi, Jon G.

What Day is it?

Some of you may have noticed that my entry for the 6^th of June was posted on the 5^th. I feel that some explanation was in order, as this is a pretty glaring discrepancy for a Marine officer (particularly one noted for attention to detail) to make—let alone once, but continually. When I first arrived in country, I was posting to the blog in the evenings at the end of my shift. Since we are eleven hours ahead here, I was pretty confident that each post would make it on the same day in the States, in fact a couple of times I was concerned that I had waited too long to post, and that the ‘record’ would show that I had skipped a day, when in actuality I had not. I came to realize, however, that both my schedule and the speed of the internet (which slows dramatically here due to heavy usage in the evenings) made morning blog entries much more practical, so I switched. I discovered that the blog server actually date/time stamps my blog entry by it’s clock, which is in the US and on US time, so the date/time stamp on the emailed blog post (which would be 11 hours ahead of the blog server) is ignored.

So, generally speaking, the date on my blog entry is always technically wrong, it is always one day shy of the day on which you read it (it generally is posted close to the time most of you are going to bed) and one day shy of the day on which I posted it. With the exception of today, of course, as I did not post this blog until after 1100. So there you have it.

Semper Fi, Jon G.

Triple Six

Today is the sixth day of the sixth month of the sixth year (technically fifth, but numerically the sixth, so who’s being technical?) of the new century. Apparently, in the town of Hell, Michigan, there is a big celebration, where t-shirts and mugs are being sold for $6.66. I’d imagine it’s fairly warm in Hell this time of year, though not close to what it is here (we’ve hit 115F the last four days in a row), indeed, I’ve heard Hell is one of the colder towns in Michigan in the winter time, providing ample opportunity for the “When Hell freezes over…” comment.

The last couple of days have been hectic at work, but at the end of each day I feel as if I have not accomplished that much. This is a situation where there is a ton of ‘backlogged’ work waiting to be done, and I also have ‘daily’ work that needs to be addressed immediately. The amount of ‘daily’ work varies based on my email load, number of operations or operational tempo within the AO, etc. What I’ve realized is that regardless of what I accomplish in terms of immediate support, I ‘measure’ the productivity of the day by how much of the ‘backlogged’ work I was able to address—I feel discouraged if I go ‘home’ several days in a row without being able to diminish the long term pile hanging over my head. I don’t want to cut myself too much slack, either, or the pendulum will swing too far over to the non-productive side…. Unfortunately, it’s not a question of balance in my life, it’s a question of getting the job done…

Semper Fi, Jon G.

Girl Scout Cookies

My recollection of the way Girl Scout Cookies are sold is that once a year they are distributed as ordered and paid for in advance to those who have been “coerced” into buying them. I put “coerced” in quotes, as ALL of the varieties that I’ve had a chance to sample are VERY SATISFYING—if one has to choose between the varieties it boils down to preference, not a disparity in quality. The reason I bring this up is that these wonderful snacks have been showing up (in waves, so it seems) in substantial quantity and fairly consistently since I arrived here more than three months ago. This sort of breaks the once-a-year Girl Scout Cookie sales model, and I for one am extremely grateful that the specific Girl Scout Cookie manufacturers, the specific Girl Scout Cookie product organizers, the specific Girl Scout Troop or Troops, or the specific Girl Scout Cookie customers, or all or any combination of the above, care enough to break this paradigm.

Semper Fi, Jon G.

Daily Contact

I just received a note from my Mom, and she commented on the almost daily ‘contact’ she has had with me since I’ve been deployed. My folks live in Tennessee, my siblings are scattered all over the US, and Sheryl, Joshua and I live in California. It just kind of struck me that my family and friends, even those that live ten minutes away from my house in SoCal, actually can be more ‘up-to-date’ and more informed as to my life (even though I’m now thousands of miles away) than when I was there. Not that my friends in SoCal would ever go to my blog to stay ‘current’ with me, even had I been maintaining a blog when I was there, when they could just pick up the phone and call me or send me an email, but as far as my family is concerned, this blogging stuff (my sister and several of my nieces have blogs) has the potential to create a paradigm shift in inter-family communication—if fact, has obviously already started to do so.

Semper Fi, Jon G.

Use the Sun

The idea of making Sun Tea is not original to me, of course, but out here, where there seems to be so much of the sun, and it seems to be so much hotter than anywhere else, and it is getting close to the longest day of the year, it makes perfect sense. I’ve got a large jar (thanks to Sheryl, who sent it to me filled with cashewsJ) that I filled with water, added tea bags, and set it out in the sun. I’ll tell you tomorrow how the experiment goes. I doubt I’ll be able to interest anyone in a “best sun-brewed tea” competition, though I have seen numerous sun tea canisters around the camp—I don’t know any of those sun-tea-brewers, and there is not a lot of collateral time around here to pursue opportunities like this.

Semper Fi, Jon G.