I should organize my thoughts into some coherent format, but lately my thoughts are scattered all over.
I came home to a new house, since my wife moved us from Chaska to Owatonna. I'm still in awe of her accomplishment, since selling and buying a new house is traumatic for a couple, all the more so for (temporarily at least) a single mom.
My house is on a corner lot, so front and back are relative terms. Front to me can mean facing either street.
I haven't met any of my neighbors.
I do the bulk of the cooking in our house, and I enjoy the heck out of it. My new kitchen is twice as large as the old, and I have no idea where anything is.
My kids now sleep upstairs, and my wife and I sleep on the main floor.
I can use the bathroom without leaving the building.
I can shower without wearing flip-flops.
Food is now conveniently located in a device called refrigerator. I pick what I want, cook it, and then eat it. No citizens of India have been involved in the food preparations.
Stuff falling from the sky is no longer called incoming. It is referred to as rain. It still freaks me out when it comes in the middle of the night.
I no longer have to look at dead animals by the side of the road for wires coming out.
I have to decide what to wear, rather then calculating how little of a PT uniform I can get away with.
I haven't cleaned my weapon in over a week. In fact, I haven't even carried one.
Instead of 10 channels of AFN, I now have 549 channels to choose from. I can record a show and watch it later. But how do I decide what to watch?
There are way too many light switches in this house.
Couches are much more comfortable than the $7.95 PX folding camp chair.
Beer tastes good.
Snoring makes my wife crabby.
My wife's car doesn't have padlocks or combat locking doors,
Traffic doesn't come to a halt when I get on the freeway.
Beer tastes good.
Milk here is real, has no expiration date, and is not shelf stable.
My family and I continue the adjustment process, and life goes on.