Ok, so much has happened that trying to talk about it all is just too boring for me even to write, let alone for you to read. I will try to paraphrase.
My back ache did not go away, after a week and a half we capitulated and went to the emergency room. Not because it was an emergency, but because when a military dependent is between posts, that is the place to go.
I was given Valium and lortab. Yes. Valium. It did take the pain away and I have been able to turn and bend and generally move around. I also have the added benefit of being relaxed and jolly in social settings. Lord knows that's something I could use.
In terms of the house, the loan we thought we had, we being even our realtor turned out not to exist. It's like those house hunters or property virgin shows on HGTV where their loan just drops out. It was sickening for about two days.
And on the second day, we decided it was better to rent for a year any way, to better get to know the area, to improve our credit score, and last but not least, to have a place of our own as soon as possible.
The first one we called turned out to be the one, though we did look around enough to know that we got a steal. It's in a gated community with a golf course and a lake with a boat launch and a beach. It's very quiet and wooded. When I say "gated" I mean there's literally someone in uniform at the gate who lifts the barrier in order for a person to drive in. Quite the thing.
Anyway, the house is three stories, large and marvelous kitchen with pantry and an actual dining space, wood burning fire place, finished basement and huge master bedroom suite. It has a linen closet in the upstairs hallway and another closet. I don't even know what to call that one.
One of the cute little bedrooms will be my sewing/office room and the massively huge closet in that room will house all of Keith's military gear neatly organized in plastic bins. This is my dream and it will come true. They will be labeled. It will be marvelous.
The other large bedroom will be Keith's man room, since the formal living room is too small for his massive TV and speaker ensemble. That leaves the formal living space for me and my books, lamps, rugs and cups of tea.
We would use the basement, but there's no carpet and so it's not very inviting. The washer/dryer hook up is there. Not ideal, but good for exercise and also for yet more storage; lord knows we need it.
I am determined to organize all our gear as we unpack and throw away all the crap that got boxed up because we were too stressed out to do it before hand. Our furniture will arrive on Wednesday, the day before Thanksgiving. I foresee our Thanksgiving dinner being something microwavable. I don't care; there's no doubt Keith and I will be very, very grateful.
The lot itself is of a decent size, but most of it is woods, straight up. It's like we live in the woods. The yard, if it could be called that, is mostly moss and right now covered with copper colored leaves. There is no fence, so we will be walking the dogs, not an issue as the golf course is near by and has a pedestrian walkway that meanders through it. We may install an underground fence at some point.
The garage door is small, possibly too small for the HD to fit in, but the garage itself is sizable and certainly will fit Keith's tools and concert speakers and fourwheeler. The car trailer will be maneuvered to a side yard where it will be mainly out of sight.
It took some hard thinking to change my mindset from buying to renting, but in a year we will know more clearly what our future will look like, as Keith will re-up for four more years at that point.
While we were figuring out all this stuff, we were going from house to house to house as per our usual these days. I don't really want to talk about the awfulness of all that, since it's tedious to even think about it and tomorrow we sign the lease and it will be all over with.
Right now we are cozily ensconced at Keith's father's house. I slept in a real bed with a good mattress in an room with a closed door. I have Internet and coffee, we washed all our clothes again. The dogs are in the garage.
I do have to talk about the one most bizarre and horrible incident that happened in all this. While visiting with one of Keith's brothers, another woman who was there began focusing in on Keith with a disturbing and open mixture of sexual attraction and anger, after being consistently and openly insulting and dismissive of me.
Pause for a moment to try and imagine what that might look like.
I was beyond horrified. Nothing in my life ever prepared me for people to act as she did. People simply don't act like that. Children act like that in third and forth grade, perhaps. As adults, it's ludicrous to think that it would be played out.
Keith was very good; he tried everything he could to diffuse the situation. If he had acted in any other way, the police would have been called. The woman was clearly emotionally disturbed. I sat fixed in my seat with my skin crawling and my mouth open. Adrenalin kept washing over me until at one point, I was ready to punch her.
I've seen in TV and I've read about fights between women. I've spent a passing thought imagining what that might be like. Passing, I say, because it simply doesn't relate to my reality and I never thought that it would.
To actually feel angry enough to punch another woman in the face was an incredible disorienting feeling. My heart was pounding, my limbs were tinging, I was on the balls of my feet and on the edge of the couch. I didn't physically attack her, but I did tell her to stop what she was doing. It did not come out as a request.
She ignored me for a moment and then suddenly became sad and apologetic and invited us to go out to dinner with her in the evening. My expression must have told her what our response would be and then she focused all her anger on me.
"Honey..." I said, sitting very still and looking at Keith. I forget what he said, but his tone of voice was like a wall. She stormed out while saying something else angry and bitter and slammed the door.
During visiting in general, I couldn't help but notice that most of Keith's friends who were married treated their spouses with disrespect, talked crudely and were publicly dismissive of one another. It wasn't, I suppose, that they don't love each other. It was more that acting in that way was just the way one acted.
The men talked about sex or the sexual attractiveness of other women, either women on TV or sometimes the other women in the room. They did this right in front of their wives. Their wives appeared to take it or retaliate in some closely related way.
I should add that Keith did not join in and tried to change the subject, not always successfully. Because I'm quiet and reserved, I was never the recipient of any insulting flirtation or sexual innuendos and I do that on purpose. I don't play those games.
I know that makes me appear a snob. If there were actual conversation, adult conversation about say, politics or vacations or homes or children, I would have something to add to the conversation. But people in those social circles apparently don't talk about those things, although many of them had children, or were married, or had houses. It's not that they were bad people, at all. I think it must be that they have no blue print for a marriage other than the one they were acting out.
These interactions did have the positive impact of Keith and I appreciating each other and our marriage over and over again. "You are such a good woman," I heard from Keith frequently. "You are such a good man," I would say with incredible, grateful relief. "Yes, 'cause I treat you like a little queen," Keith said proudly. "Yes, you do," I said heartly, remembering how the other men treated their wives. "We have really good communication skills," Keith said once.
Yes, we do and they were absolutely tested to the max over the last three weeks.
