Saturday, December 18, 2010

Tuesday, October 19, 2010

October

Summer is slowly winding to a close, although it is still lovely and mostly sunny these days in the first half of Autumn. Got some bike rides in (including a flat tire)


went to the October Art Walk,





canoed a bit.



Mostly we're doing yard chores and buttoning the place up for winter.




Friday, September 10, 2010

BOOK ALERT!



My friend Boo Davis is publishing a rockin' new book about quilting today. Yay Boo! Check it out here. Boo was interviewed by the New York Freaking Times!! Check it.


Thursday, August 5, 2010

Prop 8 overturned




"[I]t would demean a married couple were it to be said marriage is simply about the right to have sexual intercourse," ... "'[M]oral disapproval, without any other asserted state interest,' has never been a rational basis for legislation," ... "Animus towards gays and lesbians or simply a belief that a relationship between a man and a woman is inherently better than a relationship between two men or two women, this belief is not a proper basis on which to legislate,"

From Judge Vaugn Walker's ruling striking down California's Prop 8.

Check out this very excellent distillation of a dense legal argument at slate. I don't have much else to add.

Good for you, Judge Walker. Good for California. Good for America. We're one baby step closer to treating all American's as equal citizens under the law. Now, doesn't that feel good?

Wednesday, July 28, 2010

Last one




Hopefully, this'll be my last post from Iraq. I walked around today with a camera, to try and document some of the daily sights I've been living with for the past year. I haven't taken many pictures, but there just doesn't seem to be much that I want to preserve for the future. Still, these give a decent idea of what it's like.

The alley where I live. Everything here is surrounded by concrete T-walls, so pictures of buildings are pretty boring. I live on the left there, just past the garbage can.

Once you turn past the T-wall, here's my row of Containerized Housing Units. One trailer, three rooms, six people. (Well, actually 5 people, since I don't have a roommate. One of the few perks to being the only female in a unit of 400 guys.) Those things surrounding the trailer are HESCO barriers, filled with sand for extra blast protection.
The door to my own CHU.
Inside.

Saturday afternoon, must be time to clean the weapon.

The shower trailer. Not like I'm complaining. I'm happy to have a shower.


The building where I work
Inside the aid station
On my walk up to the dining hall, I pass by Strykers.
And more Strykers
And more Strykers
Yup. More Strykers.
Can you see the writing on the left rear panel of this vehicle?
Yes, it's true. The Coasties are here. There are about 5 guys from Jacksonville, LA. I see them at lunch sometimes. I think it's funny that everyone else is driving around in uparmored Humvees, MRAPs, Strykers and Abram Tanks. The Coasties have this.

Anyway. That's it. My life for the last 11 months. I can't think of much that I'll miss. Except the moon. I see a lot of the moon, walking out the port-a-john every single night at 1am; walking to the gym at 4. I've tried taking pictures, but nothing does it justice. Oh, and the sunrises/sunsets. Those are impressive too. I won't miss them much, though. Not enough to want to stay.

Friday, July 23, 2010


We did our final medical outreach event yesterday. These things are incredibly depressing. Women show up with children who have severe, severe illnesses- congenital defects, disease, genetic disorders- that we never see in the U. S. Children in America who are born with club feet have surgery and physical therapy, and are usually walking at a normal age. Children who have liver failure get a liver transplant. Mothers get prenatal education and care (usually). 30 years ago, Iraq had nearly first-world class health care. Now, not so much. Yesterday we gave out a couple of wheelchairs, which was pretty great, but unfortunately, the only thing we could offer to many of these families was sympathy. And tylenol. We brought plenty of tylenol.

Hey, how 'bout that climate bill? Seems like only a few weeks ago that I was reading that it was a sure thing. Now it's dead. Thanks Dems. Way to make a difference. Thanks GOP.

In Time
W.S. Merwin

The night the world was going to end
when we heard those explosions not far away
and the loudspeakers telling us
about the vast fires on the backwater
consuming undisclosed remnants
and warning us over and over
to stay indoors and make no signals
you stood at the open window
the light of one candle back in the room
we put on high boots to be ready
for wherever we might have to go
and we got out the oysters and sat
at the small table feeding them
to each other first with the fork
then from our mouths to each other
until there were none and we stood up
and started to dance without music
slowly we danced around and around
in circles and after a while we hummed
when the world was about to end
all those years all those nights ago

Thursday, July 1, 2010

1 July



Ooh, ooh! Big news on the home front. The US has named a new Poet Laureate. W.S. Merwin will follow in the footsteps of the Robert Frost, William Carlos Williams, Robert Penn Warren and Conrad Aiken. The 82 year old Hawaii resident writes some tough stuff. This is no Billy Collins (who I love), whose poems are made for browsing and reading aloud to your sweetie while snuggling on the couch on a rainy afternoon. Merwin requires some real effort, but it is worth it. Anyway, Congrats to Merwin and to America for continuing a tradition of excellence in poetry.



Good People

BY W. S. MERWIN

From the kindness of my parents
I suppose it was that I held
that belief about suffering

imagining that if only
it could come to the attention
of any person with normal
feelings certainly anyone
literate who might have gone



to college they would comprehend
pain when it went on before them
and would do something about it
whenever they saw it happen
in the time of pain the present
they would try to stop the bleeding
for example with their own hands



but it escapes their attention
or there may be reasons for it
the victims under the blankets
the meat counters the maimed children
the animals the animals
staring from the end of the world



Source: Poetry (December 1999).

For A Coming Extinction

From "Lice", 1967



Grey Whale

Now that we are sinding you to The End
That great god
Tell him
That we who follow you invented forgiveness
And forgive nothing

I write as though you could understand
And I could say it
One must always pretend something
Among the dying
When you have left the seas nodding on their stalks
Empty of you
Tell him that we were made
On another day

The bewilderment will diminish like an echo
Winding along your inner mountains
Unheard by us
And find its way out
Leaving behind it the future
Dead
And ours

When you will not see again
The whale calves trying the light
Consider what you will find in the black garden
And its court
The sea cows the Great Auks the gorillas
The irreplaceable hosts ranged countless
And fore-ordaining as stars
Our sacrifices
Join your work to theirs
Tell him
That it is we who are important

Saturday, June 12, 2010

Bagdad


Not much longer now! Might be home in time to pick blueberries.

I heard someone compare Baghdad with Miami. Flat, lots of brown, palm trees. Lots of interstate overpasses and highways. The main difference is that everywhere in Baghdad is surrounded by 12' high concrete blast walls. Some very poor quality photos, taken using an iPhone from the back of a Blackhawk at 500', or through the window of an MRAP while driving at 30mph. Still, I suppose it's better than posting nothing.












Sunday, April 11, 2010

al Muthana

Can you find the kitty in this picture?


al Muthana

The roof of my aid station leaks.
Mangy, limping cats huddle under the hummvees.
Cockroaches and lizards emerge
From the cracks in my walls at dusk.
The air smells of burning trash,
My eyes water and my
Throat burns.

Next door, the Iraqi general breeds beautiful
White long-tailed chickens.
They murmur and cluck to each other as they
Pace along the high concrete walls.
I run in the morning, I listen to the
Call To Prayer and the soft coo of
Morning Doves.
At night, bats twirl and dive under
The sodium light.

Thursday, April 1, 2010

Dog tags


You were named after a fish.
Flashing silver in the ocean,
Slipping up rivers to
Sun dappled mountain streams.

Your birthday, just shy of twenty.
A teenager.
A boy.

Your blood type, which we
Pumped into your broken body for an hour.
Praying for a helicopter
That never came.

Your religion.
One tag said "Buddhist",
The other, "Surfer".

I imagine you as you were- white teeth
In a young, tan face. A seashell necklace.
Two good legs.
A dog. A girlfriend. A fire on the beach.

I wonder what your parents thought,
The ones who named you for a fish,
When you came to them,
Sun bleached hair shaved off,
And told them what you'd done.
That you were coming here, to this dry land.
A land without fish or surfboards.

Tuesday, March 23, 2010

R and R

Just got back from 2 weeks of R&R. Had an amazing, relaxing time. The birds were at the feeders all day long; the frogs and coyotes sang all night. I spent time with family and friends, but did not do too much socializing. I ran and walked the dog on our trail, worked in the garden, drank coffee on the couch and enjoyed the wonder of indoor plumbing. It felt good to just rest, eat good food, and walk around without a weapon.

We repainted and took out our "new" canoe- a '63 Chestnut Deer. It's beautiful. I'm in love.


Please take a moment to notice the dearth of bicycles in the above picture.







My sister Emily came up, and we spent St Patty's day at an Irish pub. It was great to see her.



It took 4 days travelling to get back to Taji. I'm moving to my new unit in less than a week so will try to spend the next few days catching up on sleep and packing.

Sunday, February 14, 2010

Taji

I was going to take a bunch of pictures of the post here in Taji, thinking that I would be here through September. Turns out, I'm being transferred out of my medical support unit within the next week or two. I'm being sent to an artillery unit to replace their PA, who is being punitively removed. It should be an interesting experience, especially since I'll be the only woman in the entire 300 person battalion. The Army just recently started experimenting with assigning female PAs to artillery units. The theory is that, historically, artillery units have stayed well behind the lines, making it "safer" than infantry units. The reality is, though, that this war does not set itself up with battle lines and there is not much use for weapons that can fire 10 miles. The FA (field artillery) guys are mostly being used as infantry- clearing roads and kicking down doors- something they hate since they tend to look down at the grunts in infantry.

I've been with my current medical unit for a little over a year, and have gotten pretty comfortable with my co-workers and will miss the mentorship that I receive here. I'll also miss the medics, who are well trained and talented. I have made some friends and enjoy the camaraderie of working with a variety of medical providers (we've got a dentist, physical therapist, psychologist, nurse, 2 doctors and 2 PAs in this unit). I'll be the sole medical provider over there, which will be a challenge, but I think it will also be exciting in that way.

Anyway, before the new marching orders came through, I did take a couple pictures of the outside of our clinic. This is where we park our "ambulances". These vehicles are called M-RAPs (Mine Resistant Ambush Protected) and they're about as comfortable as they look:





Anyway, for those of you who keep in touch with me via snail-mail, please hold your letters and packages until I get settled in to my new digs. If you want my new address, please email and I'll send it to you as soon as I know it.

Saturday, February 6, 2010

Gratitude

I am so lucky. In the last 2 weeks I have received so many care packages, I don't have enough space in my room to store everything. I've gotten boxes from family, from friends, and from old co-workers. I have bags full of homemade cookies and my desk drawers at work are filled with chocolates. How can it be that I know so many good and generous people? Certainly nothing that I have done can deserve this.

To all my friends: From care packages to post cards to simple e-mails; all your outreaching makes a huge difference in my life. I treasure each and everything I get from you. You make all this bearable. Thank you, thank you, thank you.

We've been busy lately. Lots of sick people including a guy who went off to Africa for R&R and came back with malaria. Didn't see a lot of malaria during my rotations in Alaska. Other than that, I'm enjoying having my room to myself for a couple weeks while my bipolar roomate is away. I'm too old to share a small living space with someone totally lacking in social skills. I suppose there is some lesson in this experience- some life skill I should be gaining from this personal trial. I'm trying to learn it. I'm trying to become a better, more patient and understanding person. I guess I've got 7 more months to work at it. Thanks, universe. Not everyone gets such a unique chance to improve themself.

3 more weeks until I go home for R&R.

Wednesday, January 27, 2010

1/27


We've moved to a smaller camp, about 25 miles outside of Baghdad. We're busier here because we're farther away from the main hospital. There aren't as many mortar attacks, but the surrounding roads are more dangerous so we see more victims of IEDs (Improvised Explosive Device- roadside bombs that target vehicles). I work 12 hrs a day, 7 days a week. In my spare time I read paperback mystery novels and work out at the dingy little gym. People have been sending me letters and packages, which have been awesome. Mainly I sleep. If I could sleep through the next seven months, I would.

The weather is chilly- it was 30 degrees this morning when I walked to breakfast- but I'm not complaining. It'll be hot enough soon enough. People are starting to take their mid-tour leave and it's pretty much the topic of most conversations. I go in 4 1/2 weeks and I cannot wait. I can't wait to eat something besides wilted salad and soggy vegetables. I can't wait to wear something besides a uniform and to walk around without a rifle.

The connectivity here isn't as good as it was in Baghdad, so pictures take forever to load up. Not that there's much to take pictures of. Sand and 15' high concrete T-walls. Sand and metal reinforced buildings. Sand. But, because of the smoke (something here is always burning and it usually stinks) we do have some nice sunrises/sunsets. I'll try to take pictures and post them when I'm home in March.

Love to everyone and thanks for the letters, packages and just good thoughts. It means a lot.