The Bar Code Tattoo and LFB Reviews

One of the nasty (or beneficial, depending how you look at it) things about following my military husband from place to place in what seems like a never-ending sequence of moves is that sometimes it takes a while to re-employ myself. Being a physiotherapist by trade, usually this is just a matter of filling out the paperwork for the local licensing board, putting my name out to a few places looking for PTs, and voila! I have a job. Often it's faster than I'd like it be, sometimes it's not. Being a Canadian in a different country, I need a little more than proof of my degree and experience. I need THE CARD. This card is not easy coming. In fact, it's been a bit of a challenge.

So, to make a long story short, five months into our new living arrangements, I remain unemployed.

Don't take this as I'm sitting around twiddling my thumbs. I'm not. I'm writing. I'm social-mediaing. I'm still spending several hours a week on Canadian volunteer positions I haven't given up. The social obligations of being married to my husband are not to be taken lightly. I drive a mean SUV in the high school kiss and go lanes, and am an avid supporter of extra-curriculars. I am the opposite of a twiddler.

But still, I need something to focus my days and the extra funds in our bank account do not hurt. So I wait.

In my quest to fill my days with unpaid meaningful things while awaiting the chance at doing paid meaningful things, I sort of fell into a volunteer position. I was dropping off books at the local library's donation box (by necessity, not by desire--there was literally no room on any of our bookshelves), and the lovely woman who was in charge of the Library Friends said they were looking for volunteers and gave me their info.

Books, organization, self-determined hours? What's not to love about that? My junior high school-day friends will remember the wonders of being a library helper (oh, the power of charging a late fee! Getting first dibs at new books! And first looks at the Scholastic book fair!) and my librarian friends (I have a surprising amount of friends with Library Science degrees) will appreciate the joy of putting a book on a shelf exactly where it belongs--well, in my current situation, where I THINK it belongs. Library Friends Bookshop is only slightly picky about things like alphabetization.

So starting two weeks ago, I walked into a room full of crazily disorganized donated books and began my journey as a Library Friend Bookshop (LFB) volunteer.

Now I will preface what I hope will be many blog posts by saying that I had no idea, when I signed up, that one of the perks was an honour system of hours worked = books. I just thought the act of organizing and selling donated books would provide me with a different view of the book world, introduce me to other bibliophiles, and perhaps expose me to books I had never noticed before, later to be signed out or purchased (very cheaply) for my personal reading pleasure. Imagine, doing something you enjoy, and getting 'paid' in something else you enjoy?

There are just SO. MANY. BOOKS. What is a girl to do, but read them? So I've vowed to bring home a few a week (and likely return them, as there is still no room on my bookshelves) and challenge myself to read differently. To read books I wouldn't normally pick up. To expand my brain, while waiting for meaningful employment.

I figure the least I can do is tell you my thoughts about them.

And so...thus begins the LFB Reviews*.

Week 1
The Bar Code Tattoo 
YA Dystopian
by Suzanne Weyn

It's no secret that the world is a wee bit shaken up right now. 2016 was a year of bizarreness. And this week is, without a doubt, going to go down in history. How that history will play out has been wildly speculated, and I am not the one to discuss the pros and cons of any side. But the last few months have felt mildly dystopian. And with one of my yet-unsold finished manuscripts dealing with similar world-gone-crazy scenarios, this book jumped out at me on the shelf as I was trying to cram two Harry Potter books and a Maze Runner book in beside it. I've seen it before, and was curious...but not curious enough to buy it. Yet there it was, in the pile of crazy mixed up MG and YA. Not hugely out of my comfort zone, but not something I would normally have purchased. And then, SURPRISE!, it jumped into my pile and came home with me.

I wish I could say I loved this book. I really do. I wanted to love this book, I wanted it to be the first of a love affair with Library Friends Bookshop literature. The premise is so real right now--adults (over 17) being forced to be tattooed and DNA typed and having their entire lives dictated by said tattoo and the company which administered it. It could happen. It's a strong storyline.

But the book got mired in relationships and when the main character, Kayla, started having visions and speaking telepathically with a mystical leader of the Resistance. At that point, I found it increasingly hard to follow. And it seemed less and less realistic. There were some deep questions--Should our genetics dictate our employment, our livelihood, our existence? And some scary possibilities, including that of a society which 'euthanizes' its elderly. Frightening and thought provoking. But the writing did not highlight those issues, and sadly I had to fight to finish the book.

On a scale of Total Keeper (10) to Back to the LFB Post-Haste (1)?

I give it a 4/10. I'll take this one back for someone else to enjoy.

Enjoy the week, folks. From where I sit, it's bound to be a doozy.

Brenda

*Please note,  the views on this blog are my own, and do not, in any way, indicate opinions of the Library Friends, the Canadian Forces or anyone. They are mine. Also note, I tend to be perfectly awful at regular blogging. You probably know this already, but I warn you in advance that there will likely be weeks I miss. Maybe months I miss. So I apologize in advance.

From Here (Part two)

This time of year two years ago, I was in a new place with boxes all around me, squishing a big house's contents into a much smaller military residence, and trying to support my kids as they started new schools.

Only the schools didn't open, and the kids didn't start.

Grown adults were unable to sit in a room and compromise, and their employees and their students suffered for it. I was FED UP, and I wrote this blog, stating how important that first day of school was to our military kids.

And then someone commented on said blog, implying that because I wasn't FROM HERE I didn't get an opinion.

OH. EM. GEE.

Seriously.

If you follow my blogs, you'll know I LOST IT.  What the frigging heck? Not FROM HERE? No, I'm not FROM HERE. I went against my usual rule of DO NOT ENGAGE, and responded to said comment. Nicely, of course...I AM Canadian and all. I posted my muted outrage on Facebook, and had a tremendous outpouring of support from friends and readers alike, and then posted another blog response here.

Anyway, why I've brought this moment in my blog history to the table today is that --guess what?-- my family is now in a different house, with kids in a different school (which, thank heavens, started on time), and we are all experiencing the NOT FROM HERE in a whole different way, because we actually AREN'T.  Considering several of us were born here, and we've vacationed here, lived here, worked here and played here before...it should be pretty easy to transition. But the questions outlined on my first blog are the same...only multiplied now that the kids are teens: 

"Will I like my teacher? Will I be able to play the trombone in band? Will I make the soccer team? Will I be behind or ahead in Math? Will I have too much homework? Will the kids on the bus be mean or nice? Will they tease me because I'm new? Did I get the course selections I asked for? Will I have enough time to get between classes? Are there good books in the library? 

And the most important question for kids... Will I meet a new best friend?"

Add new things like the fact that this time we are living in a city (our first in ten years), one of us is missing (off to university), American high school culture (holy cow, different), a completely new curriculum (yes, the Math is VERY different), and different brands at the grocery store (no Kinder eggs here, folks...but there's WINE) it's been an eye opener. 

via GIPHY

The good thing about this posting, though, is that it's ABOUT not being FROM HERE. We're here because we are different. We are here to learn and to share and to expand ourselves. And other than some, um...interesting political postulating (oh, boy), it's GOOD that we are here. It's exciting. It's scary. It's educational and enriching.

And we are not alone. America, like Canada, is a country of others. Especially here, in the capital region, there are many, many people not FROM HERE. 

There have already been hiccups, and we've already changed (my laid back Canadian driving skills have had to go--it's every driver for themselves on these roads), but I hope the end result will be positive. Especially once those boxes are all empty.

We'll see. I'll keep you posted.

Brenda

Changes

Ah, the first week of September.

Kids are back to school, days are getting shorter, and yes, that wonderful concoction we call the Pumpkin Spice Latte has made it's reappearance at Starbucks.

Oh, yeah....

After an amazing (and exhausting) few months of fun and excitement, it's time for moms (and dads) everywhere to sit down, grab their PSL, reflect on their summer bucket lists, reorganize their lives and get back to a routine. You know it's been a particularly good summer if that routine is happily anticipated and that first PSL comes with a sense of profound relief.

Ahhhhh.

For me, the relief is particularly intense, as the past few months have brought one heck of a lot of changes. If you've been following me on my social media, you'll have seen the occasional post indicating things were in flux, but sitting here thinking about the scope of change this summer has seen is rather mind boggling.

Here's a short list of what's gone on just since June...

New book-baby

* said goodbye to not one, but TWO beloved day-job workplaces (both of which paid well and had amazing coworkers),

* had the rights for Dependent revert back to me from Jolly Fish Press (more on this later),

* published my new book, Skin,

* watched my firstborn graduate from high school,

* went on a house hunting trip for next posting,

* hubby left for an out-of-country post for five weeks,

Looking lovely in the shark cage

* visited Hawaii and SWAM WITH SHARKS,

* packed our household into a moving truck,

* drove almost 5000km (3000) miles, across an entire continent (1 province and 16 states) over 10 days on the Great American Road Trip from the Pacific Coast in Canada to the Atlantic Coast in America,

* watched our moving truck fill our new, empty house with piles of boxes and junk (sigh),

* drove an additional 4 states and 1 province to drop my firstborn for her first year of university (sniff, sniff!) and returned, (Making a grand total of TWENTY STATES AND TWO PROVINCES this summer!!)

* began current existence in the Washington, DC area which mostly consists of trying to find the bottom of the boxes and figuring out how to transfer my physical therapy license while driving kidlets places and trying not to get frustrated at each small item that comes out of a box bent, dented or broken.

As mentioned a few months ago here, we military families deal with many of life's major stressors on a regular basis. It's part of the job description.  But wow, it's been a busy summer, and yes, that PSL is tasting mighty good right now.

So. Details.

Me...and Old Faithful

Some Presidents and some Dunnes

Re: Moving...

America is huge. Not as big as Canada, but still...huge. And driving across it is an amazing adventure. There is so much to see, and then so many miles of vast nothingness. It was quite a trip. I've attached a couple of my favourite pictures...but nothing can capture the feeling of driving in the centre of a continent with absolutely no lights but your headlights and the stars for miles and miles. It was quite a trip.

Unfortunately the downside of the adventure are the struggles of setting up shop in a brand new place. I find pulling my third very squished seasonal wreath out of a box frustrating. Or the curtain rods with their finials lost or broken off. Or the lamp that came in one box on the second floor of the house, with the shade in a box in the basement of the house...and the harp/shade attachment is still nowhere to be seen... sigh. Luckily we've found this move to be a bit easier (although it's never easy) as our children are older and huge helpers. And, as compensation, the DC area is filled to the brim with museums, cultural events and things to see. I think we'll like it here.


Re: SKIN

I am so pleased with this wonderful little book. My launch was so much fun and I've seen some top 30 moments on Amazon. If you haven't bought it yet, what are you waiting for? :) And don't forget to review!


Re: DEPENDENT

As mentioned above, Dependent is no longer being published by Jolly Fish Press. There are many reasons for this, but after much deep and soul-searching thought I asked for, and received, my legal rights back this past spring. If you have tried to buy an e-copy lately, you should have found that it was out of print, although there are still some paper copies for sale in various places. I am not sure, at this point, where I will go from here. The rights are available, if a publisher expresses interest. I may also publish a new edition via Fortunate Frog Fiction. Decisions to be deferred for a later date.


What's next?

I love fall. I love almost every part of it...the leaves, the smells, the re-established routines, the quiet in the house...

Other than continuing to unpack, I hope to find some well-earned time at my keyboard over the next couple of weeks. I have three manuscripts on the go, all of which could be finished in a month or so with dedicated time on my laptop. SKIN has a sequel in the works, as does TREASURE (slow going, but still plodding away) and a new contemporary YA as well. On top of that, I hope to give my social media presence some love, and tidy up my blog.

Lastly...

I just wanted to say thank you. If you are reading this, you are supporting my passion. You are supporting indie authors, and you have been an important part of my success to date. Thank you so very much for reading, sharing, buying and reviewing my books. I couldn't do it without you. You rock.




Brenda

SALE!!

Sea turtles! On the northern shore of Oahu!

Those sharks are right under my feet!

Wow! Summer is flying by! My Goodreads Giveaway was a huge success, with winners from Louisiana, Saskatchewan and Quebec! Congrats to the three lucky winners!

So I've just spent two weeks on an entirely different island... Oahu! And it was AY-MAY-ZING!

Not only did I get to spend two weeks in a tropical paradise with four of my favourite people in the world, but I also had the privilege of being a military spouse during RIMPAC 2016, met some wonderful military folk from all over the world and...

I SWAM WITH SHARKS!

Looking HOT in my snorkel gear.

I know. Insane. Waaaay out of my comfort zone. Like, in a different galaxy. At one point, I counted twelve sharks swimming beyond the bars of our very flimsy cage. It was AWESOME.

Look at me at the helm!

 I also got to stand at the helm of a HUGE aircraft carrier-- The USS John C Stennis, had Brie (My FAVORITE) on the deck of a French war ship, and kimchi on a Korean ship while watching a very interesting rendition of Gagnam Style. So many adventures! It was a great trip.

But now, because my giveaway was such a success (thank you to all who participated!), and it's the long August weekend (yay!), and we're moving in less than two weeks to the other side of the continent (gah!)...SKIN IS ON SALE!

That's right!

From now until August 2nd you can get SKIN's Kindle edition for a mere $2.99! 

That's less than the price of a latte! So what are you waiting for? :)

If you live in the US... go HERE!

Canadian? Go HERE!

And when you're done, don't forget to review!

Have a super weekend!!

Brenda

Thoughts on a New Year... And an Announcement!

Another Christmas (or holiday, if it's your preference) season has come and gone.

Ski season is here!
Enjoying the view from Mount Washington.

It was a bit of a wacky one in the Dunne household, what with my day job, hubby's work, kids performances, parties and the like, but it was so good to at least have a few hours to sit on my tushie and think. A few quiet moments in the insanity to reflect on the ups and downs of 2015, and make some plans (or at least attempt to make plans...more on that later) for 2016.

So. 2015. Was it a good year for you? It was for me. Looking back over my year, the word that comes to mind is BUSY.  I finished a manuscript. I got my power sailing license. I started a choir (and we sang for 23,000 people in November!) I worked, I wrote, I sailed, I sang, I skied, I sold a few books and I spent a whole lot of time moving forward. It was a great year, all in all. But, wow. I hardly stopped.

After a year like that, you can see why sitting on my tushie for a few hours was a good thing. I was ready for a break. Ready to sit and reflect and make plans (and eat...there was lots of eating...).

As I look ahead at 2016, it's difficult to make any real plan for one reason--it's a posting year for us. That's right, once again the Dunne clan will be packing up shop and moving forward, to some yet-unknown destination. In all likelihood we have another cross-continental move ahead of us. It makes me cringe a teeny tiny bit inside, thinking of another summer of boxes and fast-food meals, but it's also exciting. We have a pretty good idea where we will end up...but I can't share it with you until we have that marvellous piece of paper in hand that tells us for sure. Let's just say it will be a big change for us, but one that will be amazing in many ways. :)

But a new home is not the only thing that will be happening for me this year. I have a surprise for you all! Something pretty darn exciting. Something I've been considering, thinking on, mulling over and pulling my hair out about. But finally I've come up with a plan, and today you get to hear it!

So...

In late May, 2016, I will be publishing a NEW BOOK! 

Time to charge up the presses!

Yes! After much thought, and lots of soul-searching, I've decided to warm up the Fortunate Frog Fiction printing presses, and self-publish (yes, SELF publish) my third novel. It's a new story (sorry, TREASURE fans...still working on my sequel, but more on that another time), which I've hinted at before, a modern-day YA fantasy set on the beautiful shores of Prince Edward Island. I can't wait to share more about it in the next few weeks! 

It's called SKIN. 

So there you go. 2016 is going to be a GREAT YEAR. It's so good to be back at the self-pub table, getting ready to move forward. January and February will involve some work with graphic designers and editors, some final edits and I hope to have a cover reveal by the end of February. 

I'll leave you with this photo...a scene for warmer days, and wondrous possibilities...one you might just see in SKIN...

The beautiful dunes of Prince Edward Island.

Stay tuned!

Brenda

Military Monday: You Know You Are a Military Spouse WHEN... (for June)

After this morning's Facebook post (which, by the way was entirely serious) I thought I'd sit down and write out a Dunne list of military spouse-isms for the end of June. Feel free to add yours in the comments!

You know you are a military spouse when...

1. You see a moving truck pull into your subdivision and you have a minor panic attack.

Are we posted? Did I forget to put it on the calendar? But I just finished unpacking! Is someone I know moving? NO! They can't leave! I like them!

You get the picture.

2. You start packing for your next move and realize you have ten boxes you still haven't unpacked from the last move.

OH! That's where that pair of shoes went! I've been looking for them for three years! And...oops. I don't think that ham sandwich was intended to be packed in the foyer closet box...eeeewww.

3. You're filling out the criminal record check forms so you can coach your 4 y.o. son's soccer team, and you have to look up postal codes for three places to put in the 'List addresses for the past 5 years' section.

Not lying. I had to do that two weeks ago for a different summer activity.

4. You decide to file your kid's report cards properly (for a change) and realize last year's report card is still in a box. Somewhere.

Remember those ten boxes? My advice is to start looking in the bottom one.

5. You give up trying to find last year's (insert summer item here) and just buy a new one. 

It probably was broken/wouldn't fit, anyway.

6. You start looking at real estate websites in random locations, because you know you're likely posted next year. 

I am addicted to the multi-listing service (MLS). Just the whisper of potential postings sends me in a frenzy of home shopping. This year is no exception. And no, we aren't moving...yet.

7. You could wallpaper your house with rainbows of those little moving company stickers. 

Yep. Been there.

8. You know what FIGMO* stands for.

I--not lying--explained this acronym to one of my civilian co-workers this past week. She'd never heard of it. I enlightened her and she totally agreed she was FIGMO. :)

9. You are FIGMO.

Even if you didn't work during this post. You get that June feeling. You know, the THANK GOD SCHOOL IS FINISHED FOR A FEW MONTHS, feeling. Or maybe you're glad to be leaving your job too...and going along with your spouse. There's something so freeing about moving to a totally new place with a new job and new potential friends.


10. June is a happy-sad-stressful month.

See number 1. Who is leaving? Who is moving in? Where are you going? Where is your spouse heading on exercise? How are you going to deal with kids leaving their friends?

Looking ahead to moving and having friends move is emotionally draining. Actually June is draining.

Take heart. August is only a few months away.


Brenda


*FIGMO= F*@# It, Got My Orders.

Dear Teacher Who Just Gave My Kid A Chance

Dear Teacher, Coach, Instructor, Leader, Responsible Adult,

You don't know me--not yet, anyway--but you just met my daughter. You know, the one with the freckles? The new kid that just moved in from God-knows-where, and came into your wonderful, well established class/team/group/lesson,  the class you've been teaching since these kids were teeny-weeny and didn't want to leave their moms. You've spent forever getting these no-longer-little humans to work together as a group. You've watched them find their passions. You rejoiced when they became friends. You've encouraged them as they fought and found their way. And last year, you jumped for joy when they triumphed and came FIRST PLACE at that big, big BIG competition. Their success was the result of years and years of your hard work.

But today, my kid came into the room, and you didn't have a clue what to do with her.

She walked in...a stranger, an unknown, an alien. The other kids stared. Who in the heck was this girl? Waltzing in, to disturb their perfectly-balanced microcosm of society?

You knew nothing about my kid's abilities, and you were worried that this unknown would turn your award-winning team into a disaster. You wondered if I was being truthful about my kid's background and training. You've had kids like her before...and they didn't last.

You, dear teacher, could have chosen one of two roads.

You could have taken the easy road--treated my teen like a stranger, doubted her abilities, erred on the side of safety. Your gut was probably telling you this. Parents tend to exaggerate, don't they? Unknowns rarely prove worthy of recognition. And God-knows-where likely had horrible teachers-- fakes masquerading as professionals. You could have completely discounted my kid, and you would have been justified in your own mind.

You knew nothing about my amazing daughter...and you could have made a difficult situation much, much worse.

But you did not take this road.

You wonderful, wonderful person. You dear, sweet, patient human being.

You didn't walk down that path at all. There were so many ways you could have hurt my girl, so many simple, minuscule things you could have done to make her already difficult life a nightmare...but you didn't.

Instead, you watched. Not too closely--not so intensely that she felt singled out. You watched just enough to see and understand what she was made of.

You understood that she would be behind in some things, but you also realized that she would be far ahead in others. You were patient when she didn't follow your way of teaching. And when she caught on, you praised her, but didn't dwell. You gave her time to assimilate new methods, and you challenged her on the things she knew. You placed her with others, and encouraged the tiny spark of friendship.

You asked questions...and you believed the answers.

The next class you challenged her a bit more. You put her closer to the spotlight, but you didn't push.

You watched and waited.

You believed in her. You wanted her to succeed. You knew that her many experiences had given her a wide, full background to pull from. You celebrated her differences.

And before you knew it...she became part of the team. Sure, it was a tentative link, a delicate and tender and thin tendril that tied her to this tight-knit group with a BIG history, but you supported that thread. You helped her to weave herself in, and then you let her go.

Dear teacher who just gave my kid a chance, you couldn't have known that she's done this not once, not twice, but six times in her short life. You couldn't have known that being the new kid every other year is beyond hard. It's scary and demeaning and physically and emotionally painful. Your watching and waiting and supporting were vital in not just your class, but in her very existence.

It may have seemed second nature to you, but believe me, it's not like that for some teachers. There are those that are quick to discount, quick to shut out, quick to discriminate. Those that would stomp all over her confidence to make a point.

You did none of these things. Nope. Not you. You gave my kid a chance. And in giving my kid a chance you proved to her that she is worth the effort. You showed her that God-knows-where is a good place to be from. And you strengthened the foundation she'll build on in the next place.

Dear teacher who just gave my kid a chance, you are a true hero.

Thank you, from the bottom of this proud mom's heart.

Military Monday: That Time of Year

Make new friends,

But keep the old,

One is silver- 

and the other gold. 

~Anonymous

Yes, it's that time of year again. The posting messages are out, the houses are on the market, and the house hunting trips are booked.

April in the military is not just about new beginnings--not just spring and newness and fresh air. April is the time when the realization starts to hit that this too must come to an end. And when the emotional roller-coaster starts it's trek uphill for both the leavers and the left.

There are two sides of each move and, depending on the year, military families experience both. Every year we know it's coming. Some years we leave, some years we don't. Sometimes the goodbyes are more permanent, and sometimes they are more like see you next year. Sometimes blossoming connections get cut short and come to a quick and final end, and sometimes they are just the beginnings of deep-rooted, life-long friendships.

This year our family gets to stay put. It's a relief in some ways...no boxes, no stressful search for a new home, no schools to pick and trips to plan. Even writing about it elevates my heart rate and makes me sweat. Heck, we still have boxes from our 2014 move, waiting for me to dive in and organize (and they'll likely continue to wait until the next move...).

But, like every year before this one, staying put is bittersweet...because already the process of goodbye has begun.  I have several new friends who are preparing to move, and although I'm happy for them, it makes me sad to think that we may never see each other again when they do. I know from experience that it is much, much easier to leave than to be left. The leaver has the excitement of new adventures ahead, and the left has a hole where a friend once was.

What's amazing about military families is that they keep doing it. They keep searching out friends, even knowing there's no permanence to the situation they are in. They push themselves to say hello, even when they are emotionally fragile from last year's loss. Some posts they may spend in a rut of loneliness, but they know that maybe the next time, the next place has a BFF just waiting to be discovered.

And the result? Maybe not in all cases, but in my case a wealth of wonderful, life-long connections. Kindred spirits from afar. Friendships across the globe. People I love dearly and would do anything for. Unique, amazing individuals who I may never see again, but who have touched my life.

And I'd like to think, in some small way, I've touched theirs.

Sure I'm sad it's that time of year. I'm sad to know that my friends are leaving. But this world has a way of keeping the connections we make. I know there's a new friend waiting, just around the corner. And I know my old friends are always there.

Brenda

Military Monday: From Here

Those of you who follow my Facebook posts will have seen the small issue I had with a comment made on my blog last week. (You can find it HERE--scroll to the bottom and click on comments). The comment itself seems harmless enough, and perhaps the commenter, whoever he/she is, didn't fully read my blog post before stating his or her own opinion.

I believe all military spouses are entitled to their opinion and as such, this commenter is entitled to her (or his) own thoughts. I do thank her because she has spurred some lively discussion (and a huge outpouring of support...thank you everyone!) and has caused me to ask some interesting introspective questions.

"...if you aren't from the area (you aren't)...you probably shouldn't be making comments like this if you want to make friends"--Anonymous

Wow.

Just, wow.

Here's the deal. I grew up in small town New Brunswick. Graduated from high school at 16, and haven't lived in my home town since. Not counting inter-city moves on the same posting, I have lived in 16 different places in three different countries since that time. The longest I have lived in one home is three years.

So where am I from?

If I were to move back to my home town (where, incidentally, I still own property), would I feel at home? Would people there say I was from there? Or would they look at me and say I was a foreigner? The truth of the matter is, other than friends I've kept in touch with throughout the years, there are many who wouldn't recognize me. And the town, though the same in some ways, is different in others. I'm sure the wonderful people there still consider me a native, but is that what I think of as home?

Home is a fleeting thought for most military spouses.

It's even worse for military kids. My kids have been with us on all of those moves, so where do they say they are from? One of my children actually thinks of home as 'Grammie and Grampie's place'...where she has never lived.

In reality, we, as military spouses, have willingly given up our roots for the service of our country by choosing to follow our service members wherever they go. Very few military families end up living in their home towns. They live where they are sent, for short periods of time, and then they pack up and move again. As such we are 'from' where we live.

I'll repeat that.

I am from HERE.

I live here. I pay taxes here. My family is here. My furniture, my kids' schools, my job, my grocery store, my pharmacy, my dog, my cat...are all here. In an election, I would vote here.

My home is here.

So I am entitled to an opinion about here. As is every military spouse that lives in this town.

We are here because our spouses have chosen to wear a uniform and stand up for the beliefs that this country, this province and this town hold dear. In a crisis, our spouses would be the first to stand up for here. They would put their lives on the line for every last one of the residents of this place, regardless of where they were born. As would I. It is our civic responsibility--especially as parents--to take part in local educational debates. Our taxes support these schools and we have a right to be involved in their administration.

I even have friends here. Genuine people. Some of whom grew up right here. Do they agree with every one of my thoughts? I don't know. Probably not. But they are my friends because they like me because of who I am, not because they agree or disagree with my opinions. As far as I know, the best way to have a friend is to be one, and those who know me will be aware of my loyalty to my friends. If I were from somewhere else, why would it matter? True friendship has no borders.

Where am I from? Here. And I'm proud to say it.


Brenda

Military Monday: Life...interrupted.

As you know, our summer has been a bit messy, with all of the moving and upheaval and chaos that goes with it. Although you never get used to that sort of insanity, you learn to deal with it. You expect a month or two of boxes and hiccups and new issues, and this summer is no exception.

As our moves typically occur in the summertime, we usually fumble through the months of July and August...knowing that in September we'll really be able to get organized. 

Because in September, the kids go back to school. Schedules are finalized, kids head off to their classes with backpacks full of shiny new school supplies... off to fill their heads with knowledge, meet new friends and settle in for the next few years. Parents are refreshed, energized, and people like me finally have the time to dig into those last few boxes and get their household administration under control. Time to sort out our careers, organize our days and make plans. Right? 

Wrong.

Waiting for the doors to open.

In the province of British Columbia (where we live), teachers are on strike. It's a messy, political, deep-rooted battle between the BC Teachers Federation and Governmental beings, and as an outsider moving in, I refuse to take sides and support either entity. When two sides can't sit down with an experienced negotiator and work it out, they lose my respect. I am already sick of the media ads and tweets that say (either directly or indirectly) 'Our side is better because we're willing to negotiate and the other side isn't, so you should support us!' Baloney. Horse poop. It all makes me grumpy. Especially when the people who the sides are fighting about--teachers and kids--just want to get back to school. 

Anyway I digress. 

The schools here are closed, and my kids are still home. Those hallowed first days of school where I can sip my coffee and organize my life are yet to happen. There are signs that the two sides are getting closer, but I'm not holding my breath.

I'll be fine. And my kids will be fine as well. But the first day of school is a milestone all families look forward to. And it has become blatantly clear how much we, as a military family, depend on that milestone to ease the sting of a posting. 

Because school isn't just about books. It's about life. 

Life for military families with kids on a new post starts on the first day of school. It's the real beginning. Until that day, the move isn't finished. Just like the pile of boxes in the corner, school holds so many possibilities and so many unknowns. It's a big stressor for military kids because there are so many unanswered questions. Will I like my teacher? Will I be able to play the trombone in band? Will I make the soccer team? Will I be behind or ahead in Math? Will I have too much homework? Will the kids on the bus be mean or nice? Will they tease me because I'm new? Did I get the course selections I asked for? Will I have enough time to get between classes? Are there good books in the library? 

And the most important question for kids... Will I meet a new best friend?

It's always been a given that the kids would head back to school at the end of the summer, and when they were bored and missing their old friends we could bring up the possibility of new friends just on the other side of the school doors. Our kids are old enough to understand. They know that somewhere in the throng of shiny new faces is a potential kindred spirit. So they are looking forward (even if they won't admit it) to the first day. But it feels like we are on hold. Like life is interrupted. Unfinished. 

And this year we have a new question to add to our list of unknowns. When will it start?

I guess we will just have to wait and see. 

Military Monday: Posting Phase Eight: The Insanity.

Not one, not two, but FIVE trucks
just outside of our house...

So I was all happily writing away at my lovely posting phases and making everything sound all organized and perfect when...BOOM. It happened. The INSANITY. Pre-pack day, pack day, load day, clean day, drive away day and suddenly I'm on the other side of the country, launching my book, shaking my head and wondering what the heck happened.

Rory the horse. Not happy with his can on wheels.

This is what it is to have a military move. Insanity. No amount of planning can prepare you for the weeks of chaos and restaurant meals and unexpected car repairs. No one can give you a list that gets you ready to put everything you own on someone else's truck (or in our case, three trucks...) and watch it drive away. And no magic number of previous moves can prepare you for that next move...because just when you think you've seen it all, something else gets thrown in to shake things up a bit.  Like having your books arrive but no shelving units. Or the lovely metal-scraping sound that appeared as we hauled our horse trailer (with horse) over some of the steepest roads in the country.

Drive thru ice-cream place in rural Ontario,
Rory was a hit.

This was our first time moving with a horse, and it added a whole new meaning to drive-thru restaurants and Bed and Breakfast lodging. 'Is hay included in the price?'--and-- 'Indoor or outdoor paddocks?' were not questions we previously had encountered when booking a move. And you think your toddler doesn't want to get in the car? Try loading a thousand pound horse that's got a bruise on his behind and is leaving his new-found best friends. Can you blame him for not wanting to walk into a non-air-conditioned can on wheels?

Bed, Bale and Breakfast in Kenaston,
Saskatchewan

Add 5000km of driving, several hair-raising turns with unthinkable cliffs on the other side, a state-of-emergency due to flooding, tornado warnings, seriously bad mosquitos (Manitoba really does have the worlds biggest mosquitos), all with three tall teens in the back seat of a pick up truck. And don't forget a hike up a mountain creek, a gondola ride to the top of a Mountain, some wonderful meals, some okay meals, some truly scary pit-stops and then end with a ferry ride...that brings us to the other side of a truly massive continent...where our house was not quite ready for us.

Hoodoos in Drumheller

A few more hotel nights, unload day (x3), unpack day (x1), a clothes dryer fire, a sewage back up in the basement (which was full of boxes), more hotel days, DEPENDENT's book launch, several formal military events (including my husband's Change of Command ceremony) and many other crazy moments that I won't mention here, and you get a brief taste of the past month.

Insanity.

And would I have it any other way?

Not a chance!

Am I crazy? Quite possibly.

But in amongst those mad moments were some truly wonderful family adventures. We stood at the top of a mountain. We went as far west as the kids have EVER been. We saw dinosaur bones, a live moose, the Terry Fox Memorial, and real hoo doos. We mets some amazing people with open arms and kind hearts. We giggled. And laughed, and joked and explored. We learned that generosity lives not in big bank accounts but in small gestures of friendship. And we did it together.

Sulfur Mountain in Banff

Move in day...

We're here! Dipping my feet in the Pacific. 

 What's insane is how well it all went. It's insane that we are here, that we drove that far with five people in a pickup truck towing a horse, and we're still talking to one another. It's insane that our travel costs were covered by the military--not all of them, but most. And it's so insane that we live here...in this beautiful town on this beautiful island. Yes, we've still got boxes artfully hidden under tablecloths and crammed in corners, and yes I'm sick of disorganization, mess and chaos...but we made it.

Together.

And that is what it's all about.


Brenda

More posting phases: Seven (look for more at the bottom of the link!)

Military Monday: Posting Phase Seven

The HHT

Last week my husband and I flew across the country (without kids) to search for our new home. 

Anyone who has ever had to find a new home in five days knows how stressful a House Hunting Trip (HHT) can be. It's not just about finding a house. It's about finding a home. A place where your kids will be happy and the schools will be good schools and there will be friends nearby and grocery stores and extracurricular activities and maybe even a decent place to lay your head. It's about taking the dollars you have available and maximizing their effect. And not only do you have to find this wondrous place, you have to buy it (or rent it), fill out reams of paperwork, set up postal services and register your kids (if you have any) for schools while suffering from mild jet-lag and hearing that clock tick off your limited time. 

What's not to love about a place like this?
Vancouver Island

It's a very delicate balance. And usually it's a very, very stressful five days. 

Only this time...it wasn't.

Oh my goodness I'm in love with our new place! Seriously. And it's not about the house we decided

on (although it was a nice one). It's about the community and the setting. The people were friendly, the scenery was GORGEOUS and it just completely blew my mind that in a few short weeks we will be living there.

That, plus I got to spend a week together with my handsome husband in this little slice of paradise. When does that ever happen? No kids, nice restaurants and views to die for. Yes there were a few stressful moments. Yes we looked at 18 houses in two days, and toured three schools, and by the end my eyes were starting to cross. But the overall effect was more of a house hunting adventure. 

The view from our hotel room.
So lovely...

There are lots of HHT horror stories out there. If you've ever done this, I bet you've got a few nice ones to tell (feel free to share in the comments below) I've had a few doozies of my own. But a beautiful place and a positive outlook can make the world of difference.

Brenda

More Posting phases here: One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six.

Posting Phase Six: Season of See You Later

Today I begin the long Season of See-You-Laters.

I say season, because goodbye doesn't happen all at once (as most frequent-movers know). It's a process. Sometimes painful (my twelve-year-old's bestest, bestest friends EVER), sometimes celebratory (the twit at the end of the road that tried to hit my dog every time he drove by--yeah, wasn't sad to say goodbye to him on that posting...), each goodbye has a story. Some people I'll remember. Some people I won't. Some friends will be life-long, and some I'll never hear from again.

The process starts long before I pull out of my driveway for the final time. We haven't even gone on a house hunting trip and it's already started here. Saying goodbye starts when I realize I'm not going to be in that part of town again, when I look at my calendar and do a double-take at the surprising lack of time before our drive-out date. I start cramming in coffee dates and dinner parties and last minute meet-ups--slowly at first... But each time I see a colleague, a co-worker, a friend... I recognize it might be your last.

Goodbye is hard.

Hence the See-You-Later.

You see, after twenty-plus years of military friendships, it becomes obvious that goodbye is rarely forever. And with today's social media, goodbye is becoming almost unnecessary. I can Facebook with friends I haven't seen in twenty years and tweet with people from ten different postings. And sooner or later, we'll be posted back together again, so why bother with goodbye?

I prefer 'see ya soon', or 'until next time'. Who knows what will happen?

But today is my last day of work at my day job as a physiotherapist at a long term care facility. A job I absolutely love. I've only been there four months, but I wish, for once, I could stay. It's a perfect complement to my writing career, it pays well, and I get to spend time with amazing people...some of whom are nearly a century old.

I hope 'see you later' will be the right call today, while I'm finishing up paperwork and tidying up my space, because I'd love to see some of these elderly ladies again. They have such wonderful stories. Such interesting histories. Sadly, they don't tweet, and they don't Facebook.

I've still got lots of time in this house/posting (thank goodness!) and I've got lots of time to finish my final coffee dates. I'll be back in this area again, so I'll say see-you-later, and I'll hope that our paths cross again.

Brenda


Like Posting Phases? More to come! Check out the first five here:

Posting Phase Five: The Long Wait

Posting Phase Four: The Stash and Dash

Posting Phase Three: Orders!

Posting Phase Two: Closet Clean-out

Posting Phase One: Real Estate Research

Posting Phase Three: Orders!

Maybe we could just move here? The Dunnes at
the Universal Studios.

As usually happens, my hubby received his posting orders at the moment he least expected... while standing in line at the Duelling Dragons ride at Universal Studios, Orlando! Ah, the age of modern technology has changed the process quite a lot in our 25+ years associated with the military. Nothing like a buzzing Blackberry as you are staring down uncertain death by Harry Potter Dragon-coaster, to let you know your life is--quite literally--about to turn upside down and topsy turvy.

So...joking aside, we are extremely excited to be moving across the continent this year to beautiful Comox, British Columbia! (Or at least I've heard it's beautiful. The closest I've been is Victoria, about 3 hours south.) For my American friends, Comox is north of Seattle. This is an amazing posting for my hubby, and we're all looking forward to spending time with tall trees, big mountains and ocean beaches. Also looking forward to meeting new friends and reconnecting with old ones on the west coast. The last time I lived out west was for basic training in Chilliwack, BC...25 years ago!

What the posting message really means to us (when Dragon rides and vacation trips are over and reality starts to sink in) is that now we can finally DO SOMETHING about our move. Real estate agents have been called on both sides of the country, appointments have been booked and the ball is rolling toward a summer move. Posting Phase Four and all the others will be coming up soon and it's nice to be moving forward instead of flying circles in a holding pattern. Now if we can just sell our house, I can actually look at the real estate sites with a purpose!

Speaking of which... Must. Go. Clean.

Any one else out there received a posting message? Where are you off too this summer?

Brenda

Military Monday...The Wait

Hurry up and wait.

The mantra of military folk everywhere.

The Dunne family are still in a holding pattern, so I won't bore you with more stories of new life forms found in teenager's closets. Or the terrifying ordeal of tackling the storage room. Or the garage (which has yet to be attempted). Phase two is still in full swing, the cleaning out of closets continues. The getting rid of junk marches on.

And we have no news.

**cue Jeopardy music**

Such is the life.

So.....anyone out there gotten a posting message already?  Where are you off to? Anything exciting?

In the meantime, the Dunne writing world is spooling up for the launch of DEPENDENT on July 29th. And big news...

I have eARCs! 

Paper copies are coming soon, so if you have a blog, are interested in reviewing or hosting me on your blog during the DEPENDENT BLOG TOUR this summer, let me know! I can send you the link for the blog tour sign up.

And don't forget that you can pre-order on Amazon here.  Or head on over to the Goodreads page and pop DEPENDENT on your to-read list!

Happy Monday,

Brenda

Military Monday: Posting Phase One

Phase One: Real Estate Research

Orders received yet: No.

Estimated TTD (time 'til departure): Unknown. Maybe six months?

Confession time.

I am addicted to real estate websites. Maybe not as bad as I'm addicted to Sherlock but--it's bad. 

I have an app, and I'm not afraid to use it. 

It starts innocently enough...sometimes just days after moving into our current house. Checking to make sure the price we paid for our brand-spanking new bungalow/two-story/high-ranch/colonial/salt-box is reasonable. Usually brought on by a For Sale sign in our neighbourhood. Oh look! That house is for sale! Wonder what it's worth? Why don't I just check? Oh! Look how they decorated that room! I like that kitchen...! 

Innocent mind candy, something to fill a spare moment. Checking on my iPhone while waiting for a child after school, peeking in at lunch time to see what's new...that sort of thing.

But then hubs has a meeting with someone and a whisper comes home. Just a possibility--nothing definite. They need a (insert job here) in (insert base A here) or maybe (insert second possibility B here). In our world these whispers are just that--whispers. Gossip. Like little teases, thrown out to tweak your curiosity. 

Thus begins a manic website-checking phase. It only lasts a day or two, maybe a week. Checking neighbourhoods, ideal locations, proximity of schools, and most of all real estate-prices. This is, of course, accompanied by another, more serious evaluation of current home resale values, because we all know that what we sell determines what we can buy elsewhere. 

Things settle down. After all, it was just a rumour. No need to get too excited. 

I go back to the occasional check in, watching for For Sale signs and trying not to drive my husband crazy with the constant question... Any news?

And then another meeting happens. Or a phone call, or something that ratchets the possibility factor up from 50% to 98%. Suddently it's not Base A or Base B. It's only B. This is the conversation. The one that says 'There's always a chance you won't get posted to this base, but we've slotted you in.' 

Such sweet torture to the compulsive real-estate checker. 

Friends in the new area are called. Schools boundaries are researched, downloaded, printed out. Extra-curricular activities are mapped. And always the checking, checking, checking. Can we afford it? What if that one sells before we get our posting message?

Inevitably they do sell, and it's back to the websites. Look at that! A new house listed! Squirrel! 

And so begins the roller coaster known as Posting Season. Phase One of the Twelve Phases of Posting: Real Estate Research.The beginning of a loooooooooong journey of adventure and emotional upheaval. 

I've learned to love it. 

The thing is, I suspect I'm not alone in the military spouse world. Are you a Real Estate Researcher? Always on the look out for a new home? It's not that I don't love my current one. I do. I don't really want to move. I love our quiet home in the country...far enough away that we have no light pollution, yet close enough that I can work in the city. It's perfect. And would still be perfect if we were never posted again.

But I love to dream. I love the thrill of the search. 

Now...wasn't there a new home for sale on that street? 

I'm off to check...

Brenda

Note: I use this website for my addiction:  http://beta.realtor.ca/index.aspx?CultureId=1

What's your favourite?

Military Monday: Waiting

Oh, patience. My downfall. My weakness. My ever not-present friend.

The military lifestyle requires patience in abundance. So much waiting! So much hoping and crossing fingers while the POWERS THAT BE decide your spouse's fate and you smile and nod and support from behind.

I suck at waiting.

(Those who have been with me for a while will remember a post not to long ago about my lack of patience in the writing world...mind you, it all paid off in the end...)

I suck at waiting because I am a PLANNER. I like to have all my cute little canards in a row as soon as possible, so that I'm prepared to ride the wave when it hits. I was a great Girl Guide. Be prepared? That's me.

Unfortunately when your entire life is dictated by your spouse's job, a job which can change at a moment's notice, planning is impossible. Waiting for news about a deployed spouse, waiting for dates of return, waiting for phone calls, waiting for insurance claims, waiting to find out where in the world you are going to be living eight months from now...waiting, waiting, waiting.

How many of you are out there waiting for your posting orders? (Or I should say your spouse's posting orders, but really, it's the same thing isn't it?) How many of you start searching the real estate sites the second you even hear a squeak about a posting message?

That would be me.


In fact, I probably started searching mls.ca a year ago, just in case. I've got a real estate app on my iPhone for moments when I feel the urge to drive myself crazy with the fact that the perfect house is for sale right now in the place we may or may not be posted. Oh, and let's not forget the wait to actually go on your house hunting trip because your current house hasn't sold. Torture for compulsive planners like me.

So am I alone in this? How about you?

What are you waiting for?


Brenda