Sorry I disappeared for so long.  Actually, I’m not.  Sorry I lied.  I can’t believe there are still people out there reading this blog, waiting for an update from this chick who, without shame or remorse, deserted you for so long.

I don’t have a reason to have maintained radio silence for as long [...]]]> Tap, tap. Hello?

Sorry I disappeared for so long.  Actually, I’m not.  Sorry I lied.  I can’t believe there are still people out there reading this blog, waiting for an update from this chick who, without shame or remorse, deserted you for so long.

I don’t have a reason to have maintained radio silence for as long as I did, other than I was tired.  Tired of putting on a happy face in the midst of the hell my husband and I were experiencing.  Tired of not having anything nice to say.  Tired of being disappointed by the Air Force when we’d sacrificed so much.  Tired of not being myself.  Those were some dark days, I tell ya.

Somewhere along the line I stopped writing about the things that mattered to me, I shushed my voice so that I no longer sounded anything like the girl I truly am.  That’s over.

In the middle of the storm, I kept my eyes on Christ.  I knew there was  a divine plan for everything that was going on and I had to remind myself of that, sometimes 100 times a day.

We moved across the United States, taking a 6 month pit-stop in my boss’s basement.  Those 6 months were the best 6 months we spent in the Kansas City area.  The Husband and I were forced to spend time with the people we love, then we spent almost every weekend at my grandmother’s house visiting with she and my parents who live 11 blocks away.  We spent more time with my family in our last 6 months in Kansas City than we did the entire 4 1/2 years we were there.  The love we felt for my bosses grew so much that my heart literally hurt when I left their house for the last time on a cold, rainy Kansas day.  Excuse me while I go brush away some tears. On the other hand, I had the best time with my family and smiled at all the memories I’d collected for my jar as The Husband drove away.

We’ve moved to Florida and The Husband has returned to active duty.  We’re in the honeymoon stage of this career field… actually… we’re in the “blind date stage” of this career.  Right now his days are spent working on online classes, then he’ll go to some training and sometime in the next 6 months… he might start flying.  God has great plans, doesn’t He?  Yesterday he participated in his very first “big boy” conversation with the other engineers.  It was truly awesome to see him when he came home from work with a smile on his face.

Christ’s birthday was pretty low-key around this joint.  Having moved into our house just 5 days before Christmas, we set up a little pink Christmas tree my mom had bought for my kitchen and adorned it with some silver and teal bulbs as well as a beautiful hand-painted ornament we opened from my uncle on Christmas morn.  It could not have been more perfect.  Just The Husband, Radar the cat and me.

Nine years ago today, I woke up and put on a beautiful handmade (by mom mom the designer!) white dress and pledged my undying love until the end of time to The Husband.  For Better.  For Worse.  We’ve had a lot of worse.  Two and half years of worse.  God knows what He’s doing though… the worse makes the better so much better.  Today my heart overflows with love for this blond haired, blue eyed man who will soon be celebrating his 30th birthday.  We married so young, so quick… that we’ve grown up together.  I couldn’t be more proud of the man he is today.

Last week I made an off-hand comment about “the big one” (anniversary) is next year, but I still wanted to celebrate 9 years.  The Husband grabbed my face and passionately told me how much this anniversary means to him… because I’m still here, after all we’ve been through.  Of course I am.  Happy Anniversary, my love.

I’ve just taken a gluten-free cream caramel cake (4 layers!) out of the oven and the house smells amazing.  Tonight we’re having his favorite spaghetti dinner, his mom’s cheesy spaghetti recipe.  Maybe tomorrow we’ll go out… who knows? who cares? All I know is that I’m the luckiest girl in the world to be married to such an amazing man.

The Husband received some [...]]]> I feel like after such a long absence, I should be bringing more to the table than a raspberry peanut butter.  The truth is, things have been busy, I’ve lost motivation and… I just don’t have a good excuse other than extreme business and an unbelievable desire to maintain radio silence.

The Husband received some more bad news regarding his situation this past week.  Because of his age, he will not be able to compete for a pilot slot.  We have exhausted every resource, from the top down.  The answer is the same, a resounding NO.

I think we’re both in shock.  A little depressed.  A little more than depressed.

We’re walking zombies, really.  The spunk knocked right out of both of us.

He’s in the process of another application process, we’re hoping he’ll hear something soon… but at this point, does it matter how long we wait for an answer?  Yes.  It does.  We’d like to know if he’ll be picked up for a training phase that will determine if he’s fit for this job.

He’ll be good at this.  Strong enough.  Willful enough.  Passionate enough.  More than passionate.  If you can, please keep us in your prayers.

There’s just a few remaining months left here before the Air Force sends us packing to another place… another experience… hopefully a good one… one that will allow The Husband to fulfill his desires and dreams.

I pass the time running like crazy.  Spending time with friends, family, working, cooking, cleaning, exercising, the list goes on and on.  It seems like just as one demand for my time has been met, I’m met with four more things that need attention.  My favorite escape is in the kitchen, preferably with friends or family milling about filling the room with laughter.  Since the celiac diagnosis, I’ve been trying desperately to learn as much as I can about what’s going on with me, how to makes things the way I used to…

Never one to snack, I find myself leaning more on several small meals a day instead of the main ones.  My favorite snack right now is raspberry peanut butter with gluten-free pretzel sticks and fresh cut celery.  There’s just something magical about the sweet and salty combination that makes me forget the 1,001 things on the To Do list.

Raspberry Peanut Butter
A Delta Whiskey Recipe

1 (12 oz) package frozen raspberries
1 cup sugar
1/2 cup water

2 cups roasted, salted peanuts

In a medium saucepan, bring the raspberries, sugar and water to a boil.  Turn heat to low, simmer for 30 minutes.  Remove from heat and strain through a fine-mesh sieve placed over a bowl, discarding the seeds and reserving the raspberry liquid.

In a food processor, pulse the peanuts until broken down, then run the processor constantly until a thick butter forms.*  Add raspberry juice and pulse to combine.

Refrigerate up to 2 weeks in an airtight container.

*If you don’t like “chunky” peanut butter, you can add a little vegetable oil at this point, starting with a tablespoon and increasing until you reach the consistency you desire.

Serve with pretzel sticks and fresh cut celery.

We still don’t know if he has a pilot slot.

He spent a month this summer training new cadets and making nice with brass.

The brass he met was so impressed [...]]]> This may seem a little ramble-some, but at this point it’s been so long since I’ve given an update on The Husband’s situation that I’ve surpassed long overdue.

We still don’t know if he has a pilot slot.

He spent a month this summer training new cadets and making nice with brass.

The brass he met was so impressed with his attitude and dedication to this country that they wrote The.Most.Incredible letters of recommendation.  The letters are flowing in.

The letters make me cry.  They remind me of the man I married, the man I supported through several deployments.  The man who is trying to achieve his dream.

The letters of recommendation are no longer going to be part o his ROTC age exemption packet.

The colonel still hasn’t submitted his age exemption packet, which was given to her in January.

The Husband is now actively seeking a commission through Officer Training School (OTS).

The kick right now is the OTS recruiter has emailed The Husband and told him that he would have to forfeit his ROTC scholarship to apply for OTS.  This goes against what the regs say, so we’re waiting for clarification.

The mood around our house is a little schizophrenic.  We both have our highs and we both have our lows.

We prayed together, out loud for the 2nd time in our marriage 3 days ago.  It was one of the most emotional moments of my life.

Given the alternative (the job ROTC assigned him), we’d both prefer he return to active duty enlisted, but we’re willing to accept what we’re given (but, please God… let it be a pilot slot!)

The Husband had to attend a function yesterday where the colonel was present.  I believe he conveyed to her that he just wants a chance to do what he came here to do.

If given the chance, and he is denied, he will live with that… but to not be given an opportunity is the hardest part of all of this for him.

The colonel indicated that The Husband isn’t “owed” anything.

I get this.

But.  I also don’t get it.  The reason he is not meeting the so-called “age requirements” of the ROTC is because he was dedicating his life to this country in an active duty position, fighting wars and supporting the men and the mission.  No.  Life is not fair.  I understand that.

The Husband does not serve this country for what he is owed. As a military family, we believe we are held to a higher standard.

He does not fight, and I do not wait for his return because we expect something in return.  We do it because we are patriots, we love this country.

When The Husband started the OTS application process in April, he was told the application was due in September, we’d know by November if he was accepted.

Now the packets are due in December, we’ll find out in March.  2 months before he graduates.

Time is running out.

This whole ordeal is like a deployment… there are happy times, there are miserable times, time seems to stop and start on it’s own accord.   Minutes seem like months… then minutes later… they feel like seconds flying by at warp speed.

Please continue to pray for us.  We’re surviving.  By the grace of God, we’re surviving.

“I miss my favorite” was the first and only communication I’ve received from him in 2 weeks.

A few years ago, I laughingly told The Husband he was my “favorite husband,” as if I’ve ever had or will ever have more than one.  His reply was that of someone who knows my quirky nature, but loves [...]]]>

“I miss my favorite” was the first and only communication I’ve received from him in 2 weeks.

A few years ago, I laughingly told The Husband he was my “favorite husband,” as if I’ve ever had or will ever have more than one.  His reply was that of someone who knows my quirky nature, but loves me anyway… “Well, you’re my favorite wife.”

I miss my favorite.

My favorite partner.
My favorite blue eyes.
My favorite comedian.
My favorite blond hair.
My favorite  laugh lines.
My favorite patriot.
My favorite snuggler.
My favorite taste-tester.
My favorite friend.
My favorite hero.
My favorite everything.

He’ll be home soon, but all I can hear is tick, tock, tick, tock… the point in which the double digits days before returning become single digits… tick, tock, tick, tock.

Tonight I’m working on a couple side dishes that would be wonderful for your Independence Day celebrations. I promise I’ll try my hardest to get the recipes up before the clock has run out.

After a very long and hard winter, The Husband and I treated ourselves to a weekend away.  We didn’t go far, opting to drive to Omaha for a romantic weekend.  Does the Henry Doorly Zoo and SAC museum count as romantic?  In our world it does.  I busted out of work early and we hit [...]]]>

After a very long and hard winter, The Husband and I treated ourselves to a weekend away.  We didn’t go far, opting to drive to Omaha for a romantic weekend.  Does the Henry Doorly Zoo and SAC museum count as romantic?  In our world it does.  I busted out of work early and we hit the road as fast as we could.   Sadly, this vacation took place almost two months ago but things have been so crazy that my brain thinks it’s still January. Someone please tell me how it’s already May! 4th!  Tomorrow is Cinco De Mayo and I don’t have a single cumin scented recipe to share with you! Blasphemy! Enough with the overuse of exclamation points!

When we arrived in Omaha we met with my friend Deanna and her husband for dinner at Spaghetti Works.  Catching up on the last few months of our lives was great. There’s something refreshing about being around another military couple. The silly jokes and mil-speak is not lost on them and we have a chance to sit back and not think before we speak.  (I’m working on creating a recipe for the Beer-Cheese Sauce from Spaghetti Works, when I nail it down I’ll share.)  There’s never enough time spent with friends though and our evening came to an end all too quickly.  I’m still kicking myself for not snapping a picture of Deanna with her buzzed head.  (The Marines won the Valour-IT fundraising last year and as a victory dance, Deanna, a former Marine, opted to shave her head.. of course, she’s adorable.)

Saturday morning brought cloudy skies, but a lightening in The Husband’s demeanor.  Just what I was looking for, a smile from the man who is enduring entirely too much stress.  I was incredibly excited about going to the zoo because for the past year or so I’ve been recognizing the amazing works God has created with the earth’s other living things.   When I was a kid and someone pointed at a cow and said, “Whiskey… that’s a cow,” who was I to argue?  Great.  A cow.  Same thing with zebras, mountain lions, sea creatures… As an adult, I find it utterly amazing that we live amongst these magnificent creatures.  I find myself dumbfounded by the animals, how beautiful and intriguing they are and how I can’t believe that I let God’s beauty escape me for so long.

That evening we went to the Old Market again for dinner at a great little Tex-Mex joint, Julio’s where we shared fajitas that were served with broccoli, zucchini and carrots! They were more than fantastic.  Unfortunately, the KU/K-State game was on while we were eating dinner and the poor Husband had to endure dinner with my leaning backwards on the pub stool to watch the game through the bar.  We won though!  Anywho, if you’re ever in Omaha, definitely get the fajitas at Julios.  You won’t regret it.

With all of the drama surrounding The Husband and his job selection, I wasn’t sure if he wanted to go to the Strategic Air Command Museum so I left the decision up to him.  To me, a trip to Omaha is pointless if you’re not going to the SAC Museum though.  What can I say?  Aircraft is my porn.  Jet fuel is the perfume of the elite. Thankfully, he decided that he’d be able to handle a trip to the museum.  We spent the entire day at the museum, talking about what lies ahead for us and enjoying the history of this great nation’s air power.

If you are planning a trip to Omaha, I highly recommend the Magnolia Hotel.  The staff is friendly and intelligent about the area.  They offer a complimentary breakfast that is far superior to any continental breakfast I’ve ever had.  Another couple great perks about the hotel is the complimentary cocktail hour and cookies and milk service.  The hotel is a short walk away from the Old Market and all of the fabulous dining, shopping and nightlife opportunities offered there.  The hotel is gorgeously restored to create an old-world ambiance that cannot be beat.

The situation with The Husband has gotten worse.  Jobs were handed out today and he was given a little heads up about what his job will be when he reenters active duty.  The job is a slap in the face, to put it mildly.

When The Husband and I went on our little mini-spring break vacation, [...]]]>

The situation with The Husband has gotten worse.  Jobs were handed out today and he was given a little heads up about what his job will be when he reenters active duty.  The job is a slap in the face, to put it mildly.

When The Husband and I went on our little mini-spring break vacation, we agreed to a new job that he’d apply for when packets were due.  He submitted that job, along with several others in his career field.  The age waiver for his pilot packet is still pending, but the Air Force was needing additional positions he would be happy with.  He applied for several that would keep him in the fight.  Apparently, the Air Force decided The Husband would be better suited for the Chair Force.

My knickers are still in a bind.  I’ve cried enough tears today to flood the Kansas river.  My heart breaks for this man.  My dad emailed me this morning after I called the house in a panic.  He says, “After-all, The Husband is a veteran of 3 conflicts, was voted NCO of the year, almost has an AEROSPACE degree and these people want to slap him in the face and make him a paper-pusher? Hardly.”  I can always count on my dad to put it in perspective, just like I can always count on my mom to jump on my bandwagon and rally with me.

I realize that since this whole debacle has begun, I pick and choose what I want to lay at God’s feet.  It’s as if I’m grabbing my worry and pain and snatching it away from Him as He tries to take it away from me.  I don’t want to do take it back.  I want to lay it down and walk away.

I want to remember that God is bigger than this situation.

You see, I realize this… then I turn around and think some absurd thought.  I think, “Why doesn’t this colonel realize she’s ruining The Husband’s and my life.  Why doesn’t she realize she’s pushing him away from the Air Force.”  Then I rally myself and get it in my head that I’ll go talk to her.  Right.  Military Wife 101: Never interfere with The Husband’s Situation no matter what it may be.  I try to control the outcome of this whole ordeal.  As if I’m bigger than my prayers, as if I’m bigger than God.

As if.

The pattern is always the same: Silence, tears, internal screams, silence, numbness, complete and utter numbness.  Why can’t I just say, “Hey God!  I know you have a lot going on… but I really really need you to take this from me.  Apparently I’m too weak to offer it up to you.  Apparently I want to play your part in all of this and control, control, control.”  The truth of the matter is, I have to be the one to hand it over.  I have to lay it all down at his feet.  I know I do.

I do.

My spirits lift and I feel like good things will happen.  Then I think about seeing The Husband and I begin to feel guilty.  It’s my fault. We’d never be here if it weren’t for me.  He wouldn’t have given up his career to take another if I hadn’t pushed him.

But I believe we’re here because God wanted us here.

I feel like a sham, asking God to please give us some kind of answer.  I talked with an old family-friend, the highest decorated pilot to come out of Vietnam and a very influential person.  I asked my mom to call him and please relay a message that I’d like to talk to him.  I didn’t want her to explain the situation, I wanted to give him facts without emotion. The second I heard his voice my eyes filled with more tears.  He listened calmly, reassuringly and advised me to take a Valium and have The Husband call him.

I wonder, if God puts people in my path because I’m too emotional right now to hear Him. Men are so rational too.  I used to be rational.  I’m sure God is rational.

I lay it down.  I choose to live with hope in the future.  I choose to do whatever I do for the love of Christ.  Maybe… that’s exactly where I’m supposed to be.

Wow. Has it really been 2 weeks since I last popped in to give an update?  There really isn’t much news on The Husband’s situation.  Most likely, we won’t hear anything until September, so if you would, please… please continue to lift him up in prayer.  Thank you to all of those who already [...]]]>

**not gluten free**

Wow. Has it really been 2 weeks since I last popped in to give an update?  There really isn’t much news on The Husband’s situation.  Most likely, we won’t hear anything until September, so if you would, please… please continue to lift him up in prayer.  Thank you to all of those who already are!  I’ve spent my days trying to be as normal as possible so there is some sort of stability in our lives.  Some days this works… other days it’s just further irritation.  

To update on my life, in addition to my normal kickboxing classes, I’ve been beating myself up at the track with my friend Kara on the off days.  I’m sure this isn’t anything to many of you, but I can jog 2 miles without taking a walk break!  Of course I’m slow as molasses, but the endurance is there!  I feel great even if I’m not seeing any major changes yet.

I’ve added an additional hour and half of workout time to my days, an hour to workout, half an hour to shower and clean up my stinky self.  That seriously cuts into my social time and my photo time and my cooking time!  I try to do my workouts right after work, but that normally leaves us having dinner between 8:30 and 9:00!  Fortunately, I have a small arsenal of speedy dinners on hand that are healthy and delicious.

Many moons ago I handed my new* (at the time) Rachael Ray cookbook: 365 No Repeats to The Husband and told him to pick something for dinner.  He turned to the middle of the book and found a few pictures, one of which were Chipotle Chicken Rolls.  ”Make these.” he says.  With a groan, I added the ingredients to my grocery list and set out to make them later that evening.  Not expecting these to be anything special (or any good at all!) I half-heartedly threw them together, shoved them in the oven and went about my merry way.  The dinner we had 20 minutes later blew my socks off!

Since then, the chipotle chicken rolls have been a staple in our house.  Served at least every 6 weeks, we’ve perfected the roll.  With the firm bite of chicken, the kick of the chipotle, tangy cheese, and tart dipping sauce, these truly are perfect. Better yet, they come together in less than 10 minutes, go in a hot oven for 25 and dinner is served.

Chipotle Chicken Rolls with Avocado Lime Dipping Sauce
Adapted from Rachael Ray

1 package ground chicken breast
1 bunch scallions, finely chopped
3 cloves garlic, crushed
1 c freshly shredded extra sharp cheddar
2 chipotles in adobo sauce,  chopped (use juice too)
Salt and pepper (go a little heavy on the salt)
8 sheets phyllo dough, thawed
butter flavored PAM non-stick spray

For the sauce:
1 large ripe avocado, pitted and peeled
Zest of 1 lime, juice of 2
Handful cilantro leaves,
Salt (go shy on this)
1/4 c olive oil

Preheat oven to 400 degrees.  Line a cookie sheet with foil, then spray heavily with non-stick spray; set aside.  Prepare a large ziploc bag by opening it and folding down the zipper part.  Set aside.

In a large bowl, combine ground chicken, garlic, scallions, cheese and chipotles and season with salt and pepper.  I say go a little heavy on the salt because ground chicken really seems to need additional salt to pull the flavors together.  So for me, instead of using a small pinch of (kosher) salt, I use a larger pinch… nothing more than a teaspoon.  If using regular table salt, I wouldn’t go more than 1/2 teaspoon.  I use latex gloves and mix this by hand.  Take the dough and place it into the ziploc bag, trimming about an inch and half off of one of the bottom corners, creating a pastry bag.  Push the chicken mixture to the corner but not through the hole.  Set aside as you prepare the phyllo.

I used to have a hard time using phyllo because I couldn’t stand the thought of using so much butter for a main dish.  Thankfully, butter-flavored PAM non-stick spray does the same thing!

Lay out a sheet of phyllo on a clean, dry surface with the widest part closest to you. Spray lightly with the PAM spray, taking care to wet the edges.  Layer another sheet of phyllo on top of the first, spray with PAM, then repeat 2 more times so you have 4 sheets that have been sprayed.  On the widest part of the phyllo, about 1″ from the edge, moving left to right, take the make-shift pastry bag filled with chicken and pipe a fat line of chicken (use half ).  (see my nifty diagram!)  Tuck the 1″ overlay over the chicken, then roll away from you, covering the chicken with phyllo.  Place on the foil lined cookie sheet.  Repeat with the remaining phyllo and chicken. Spray tops with more butter-flavored PAM and bake at 400 degrees for 20 to 25 minutes, or until phyllo is lightly brown and the chicken does not give when pressed lightly.

Let cool 5 minutes before serving.

For the dipping sauce, place the avocado, salt, lime zest, lime juice, cilantro and salt in a blender, pulse until the avocado breaks down, then turn the blender on low and drizzle in the olive oil until smooth.

*Unbelievable to me that as I found that link I realized the book was published in 2005… I’ve been making these for 5 years!  Sheesh, where does the time go?

See, I believe in these so firmly that I made a silly diagram to urge you along!  Please forgive my skilz. I’m not an artist.

“Hi. Cat? It’s Air Force guy, is this a good time?” came the deepest, sexiest voice I’d ever heard.  My heart skipped a beat and I excused myself from the table of friends and high-tailed it to my car where I could speak in peace.

I ran [...]]]> You can find previous chapters of Wings of Love here.

“Hi. Cat? It’s Air Force guy, is this a good time?” came the deepest, sexiest voice I’d ever heard.  My heart skipped a beat and I excused myself from the table of friends and high-tailed it to my car where I could speak in peace.

I ran to my car and started the air conditioner, it was early Fall but still muggy in Kansas City.  I leaned my seat back and began twirling my hair with my fingers while we fumbled for conversation.  Still a bit apprehensive about this Air Force man, I wasn’t sure where the conversation should go.  Should I even bother with giving him a glimpse into my world?  Should I relax and just let it be, I mean… he really is funny.

We began with what our plans should be when he came to Kansas City.  The rest of our friends were 21 and were heading to the casinos for the evening.  Since neither of us were of age yet, I figured we could go grab dinner at Chili’s then watch a movie; something involving public activity.  Witnesses.  Lots of witnesses.

As our conversation continued and I listened to this deep, sexy voice fill my ear, I began to rethink my plans for our first evening.  My heart started beating faster and a strange giddiness overtook me.  I had second thoughts about that public dinner, perhaps our “date” would be great spent with a blanket and picnic basket at the lake.  The Air Force man agreed this was an appropriate activity for his time in Hickville.

My friends filed out of the restaurant to find me in the car with my hair in knots from subconscious twirling.  I quickly shook out of the daze of happiness and sat up asking if Air Force Man could maybe call back in 20 minutes or so? I needed to drive back to my office and I had people getting in my car, this was clearly a situation that called for privacy.  ”I’m going to hit the sack actually, I’m pretty tired and it’s been a long day.  I’ll call you tomorrow.”

My heart felt heavy as I hung up the phone, I wished with all my might that I could continue to talk to him for hours.  How was this possible? A week ago, I didn’t want to have anything to do with this guy, let alone sit and talk to him for hours.  Now, all I wanted was to hear his voice?  I had to be loosing my mind!

The phone never rang the next day, or the day after, or the day after.  I resigned myself to thinking that I have an off-putting voice, Minnie Mouse-ish or something.  Maybe I said something wrong?  It must have been my presumption that a non-public place was best for our “date.”  He’s just not interested.  I was sitting in my office replaying the conversation in my head when my cell phone rang annoyingly from my handbag, I reached in and grabbed the phone, absently giving a lack-luster “Hello.”

“Cat?  Hey.  It’s Air Force Guy.  I’m sorry it’s taken so long to get back to you, things are crazy here right now.  How have you been? I’ve missed your laugh… I’ve missed your voice.”  I walked straight out of my office and into the yard outside.  I laid in the grass looking up at the bright blue sky and wondered just how far apart we were.  My heart, it seems… was somewhere in South Korea with this blond Air Force Guy.