A little taste of home...

I received a package from home Just before the holiday began. It had magazines and challah and cookies and cupcake versions of the cakes my mom makes every year for the Jewish holidays.

The cupcakes are gone now. I didn't share. I haven't been sharing the challah either. Those are mine. Those are special for the holiday.

The other cookies I'm sharing. Once again the chocolate/white chocolate chip cookies seem to crumble spontaneously. There were whole cookies in the bag when I put it on the share counter. No one went at the bag with a hammer... and for all the weird things we see regularly, that would have stuck out.

So we don't know how the cookie crumbles... only that it does.

That was a terrible attempt at profound humor.

It was a little weird straddling two worlds. In my hooch it was Rosh Hoshannah. Outside my hooch, it was another day at war.

On this particular day we paid our respects to another fallen brother. We lost a Special Forces soldier during a mission a few weeks ago. Today was the memorial service.

The weather cooperated. A series of storms hit us last night. It rained. It actually rained. But the skies cleared in time for our formation.

On a much lighter note, there is something magical about the first rain of the season. At first, it was just wind. It kicked up all the dust in the area. It smelled horrible.

Then came the thunder. And lightning. So much lightning.

Finally a first furtive rain drop. Then another. And then it began raining mud as the dust in the air met the water droplets.

And then... rain. Good old fashioned rain.

Like a good weather man I tied down a bunch of equipment before the storm hit.

I was also able to watch the Michigan game. It happened to be on in the MWR so I caught the second half after my shift. The first half had me a little concerned but it worked out OK in the end.

And I finally got called out on my mustache. It had to happen. It is not a regulation mustache. It is a cheesy and unkempt mustache that looks absolutely ridiculous.

I was told that it has to be back in regs by the time I get off the plane back at Bragg/Pope AFB. It doesn't bother me. That is the right answer. It was only a matter of time until someone pointed it out.

It is nice to work in a place where nobody cares about such things though. If you perform, you get leeway. If you are bad at your job, you will get nailed for every little thing.

So I guess I'm doing OK.

Anyway, I'll just shave this thing on the way home. I only grew it because I was bored and it seemed like something amusing to do. Trimming it and keeping it within regulations is way too much effort.

They say that the military can suck the fun out of everything. You can skydive, but you have to do it with 100lbs of gear strapped to your body... at night. And show up a few hours early, get rigged up, and then wait...

... and now they are taking the fun out of the mustache. Oh well.

My wife told me it needs to be go anyway.

So no mustache and I'm letting my hair grow out some for her. I spoil her.