If Less is More, This Post is Non-existent.

It is foolish and wrong to mourn the men who died. Rather we should thank God
that such men lived.

---George S. Patton, Jr.

Thank you for your kind words. I don't want to give the impression that we're walking around like zombies unable to cope with the concept of death, I really have been taking that break that mentioned three weeks ago when the kids began their summer holiday. We're halfway through it and there's so much we haven't accomplished.

I do want to take a moment to tell you about Dave.
He was a kind man who loved his family.
He was that rare guy who wasn't threatened by me (even though I am the epitome of a 50's housewife, I have a mind of my own -- for some reason a lot of my friend's hubby's seem to think I am going to carry off their wives to a Women's Lib. demonstration or something).
He always treated me as kindly and as welcome as his wife did.
When my Hubby was deployed, Dave came over to do the oil change on my car, even though I was perfectly capable of doing it myself.
He also took time out of a family event at the school to check out the grinding noise my brakes were making (while we all stayed inside enjoying the day).
He loved Mike and Ike's
and singing karaoke (much to his wife's dismay).
And riding his motorcycle.
He married his partner (of 19 years) and mother of his three children in Feb.
A month later, was in a crash he was extremely lucky to limp away from (he managed to kick away from his bike as it slid under a tractor that had pulled out in front of him). The insurance paid for a new bike.
Recently at the village "Clairvoyance Night", the "psychic" singled him out, saying, "You're having automobile problems... have you had any trouble with an automobile?"
Dave responded, "Only when the wife is driving it."

He was killed on his way home from work tuesday, a collision with a car.

The village has this strange quiet sadness now.

We'll be ok. Last night when I climbed into bed, to finish my fourth book of the Twilight Trilogy (hah), a thunderstorm quietly rolled in. It was a gentle thunderstorm. That may seem like an oxymoron, but truthfully, it was gentle, lovely and reassuring. I've told you how I always have felt like storms are God's way of telling me everything will be alright. It takes thunder to get my attention apparently. Some times I'm harder to talk to than at other times.
Thunderstorms are NOT common here where we're living.

The Hubby is having a birthday tomorrow.

For his birthday, he took a couple of days of leave so that we could go to London with a friend and her children. But that fell through.
Then we planned a trip to a castle where they were having "Knight School", but with news of Dave, we left the planning until the morning of-- in case we were needed.
So, this morning we packed up the family and began the drive.
It's weird how every thought, every action takes you to what's stewing in your mind even when you're determined to make a day as "normal" as possible. When we'd talk about Dave, I would feel my throat getting tight and we'd sit in silence for a few minutes.

Leave it to kids to take your mind off of your troubles.

J2 said, "I don't feel so good" and within minutes began throwing up. Didn't see THAT coming, did you? Yeah, neither did we.
We were 20 minutes from the castle.
After a quick stop, we decided to press forward. He was holding a plastic carrier bag just in case.
As we pulled into the car park, A1 said, "I don't feel so good".
I shouted for sick child #1 to pass the "just in case" bag to the newly sick child where he proceeded to be ... well, sick.
Then J2 says, "I'm gonna ..." and he did.
As other tourists piled out of their cars anxious to begin the day, I was wiping faces while the hubby looked for a bin for the carrier bag.

Good times, friends, good times.Here is a photo of the castle. as we drove away from it.

There's sand sculpture competitions going on about an hour from here... I wonder if we should head that way next?

I miss your posts. I hope to be back on reading schedule soon, will you drop me a comment or email with the posts you want me to read most? hah.. the postest with the mostest.