Dispatches from a go-gettin journalist. Because not all Army wives live behind the lines...

Thursday, April 26, 2012


Tonight I'm sitting on our bed, writing my weekly column. The bedroom has a dim glow from our lamps that now have a home on our brand new side tables. I hate overhead lighting and for the first time since moving in, I don't have to turn it on.

Today, I comfortably worked from home in my office, finished all my errands, cleaned, wrote a column.

Superman worked his magic on the kitchen tile, put on his blue, and went off into the night.

The bedroom is new. The kitchen is new. Being "married-married" is new.

This morning, Superman crept into my office while I was staring at a blank Word document, wondering whether I was really going to write something worth reading, or even have the brains to write anything at all (the usual feeling of a writer). He sat next to me in my chair, held down the SHIFT key and typed this:


And now, more than ever before I feel at home. The lease doesn't end. The movers aren't coming. The deployment is over. There are no life-altering dates to look forward to, or to not look forward to. We're high on family and friends.

This is home.


  1. So exciting!

    Where did you get your new side-tables? We've been needing one for a while now and I can't find any I like.

  2. Bernie and Phylls! *Insert jingle that gets stuck in your head*