In the Army, you never stay anywhere very long.  You receive orders, perhaps move to a post and are assigned to quarters.  And, that is your “temporary home.”  Sorry Carrie.  You might plant flowers.  But as for trees or shrubs, what’s there is what you get.

Our first permanent assignment (which means more than six months) was Fort Hood, Texas.  After waiting almost a year, we were assigned to quarters on Newton Court, right across from the Officers Club.  After spending three years in law school in a cramped apartment, this house seemed enormous.  The dining room was large enough to play ping pong.  We didn’t have any dining room furniture, so we bought a ping pong table.

The yard had lots of vegetation.  The back border of our yard consisted of pomegranate bushes – ten to twelve.  The fruit was so bitter that you couldn’t eat it.  But, at the left front corner of the house was a kumquat tree.   The fruit from that tree tasted like nectar for the gods.  I would lose myself under that tree, picking, peeling and devouring the precious fruit.  The next and last year in those quarters resulted in no fruit.  A late frost wiped out the buds.  I have bought kumquats, but they never tasted as sweet as the ones hanging from that tree.

In 1990, I retired from the Army and we bought a not-so-temporary home.  We have lived in it for the last twenty years.  At the corner where the driveway meets the sidewalk to our front door, we have a crepe myrtle tree.  The first thing we noticed was that the pinkish red blooms were enormous.  Some were almost as large as a soccer ball.  We looked around the neighborhood and found that there were bigger crepe myrtles.  There were also more robust crepe myrtles, but none had blooms as large as ours.  We hoped this would not lead to bloom envy.

Our pride was dashed with the first good thunderstorm.  Many of the branches were broken and most of the rest of the tree was practically on the ground.  As soon as it stopped raining, I rushed out and cut off the broken branches and shook the other blooms to remove the weight of the water.  I ended up with petals all over me.  Next, I tied up the remaining branches like they were public enemy # 1.   This kept the tree upright, but with the next storm, many of the branches snapped.

The tree became an obsession of ours.  Rope, rope and more rope.  Carole observed that Fort Myer had a large number of crepe myrtles and each winter they would cut them off at about two feet.  So we did that for a few years.  Each year the tree grew about the same height, with the same enormous blooms and the same wet weather results.  I bought more rope.

One year, we had an extremely severe winter and lost some shrubs.  I thought the crepe myrtle was toast.  Crepe myrtles get started late in the spring.  I didn’t realize that and since everything else was green, I figured our crepe myrtle had croaked.  I cut it all the way to the ground.  I am telling you it did not look alive.

By June, it was shooting out of the ground like a weed.  It wasn’t quite as tall as previous years, but it still had its beautiful over sized blooms.  I had to use a lighter weight rope that year.

About three years ago, Carole came up with an article in Southern Living entitled, “Stop! Don’t Chop!”  It gave a blow by blow accounting of how to cut and shape your crepe myrtle.  The article gave credit to a brochure from the Spartanburg Men’s Garden Club.  You probably were wondering what the Spartanburg men were doing when it wasn’t NASCAR season.  Well, they are trimming their crepe myrtles.

Anyway,  I’m into my third season of following their advice.  But I still had to deal with these gynormous blooms.  As things will happen, all the stars lined up a year ago.  Just as the blooms were at their peak (and before a storm),  we were having stone edging  placed around the house.  Tom Hardy, our landscaper, looked at the crepe myrtle and said, “You know, you need to remove some of those blooms off of the branches or you will have trouble when it rains.”   Duh!

He pointed at a branch with three large blooms and said I should cut off one or two.  There it was, the answer I had never considered.  It never crossed my feeble mind to whack off some of the blooms.  It was truly hard to do, at first.  But, it worked.  I may have had one branch snap last year, but that is real progress.

I actually put on my calendar for the first of February to trim the crepe myrtle.  Well, it is still waiting to be trimmed.  I couldn’t get to it in February because of the damn snow.  There is still time.

 

We arrived home on February 5th from our two week Panama Canal cruise.  We ducked in right before the second monstrous snow storm wiped out Washington, D.C.  It wasn’t easy, but we made it home, picked up our dog and were protected against whatever Mother Nature wanted to throw at us.

We sat at the kitchen table and stared at two weeks of mail.  It was well over a foot high.  Then it struck me.  It might be interesting to see what kind of mail one received over a two- week hiatus.  I knew it wasn’t going to be exciting, but it might be interesting.

Carole starts by sorting the mail.  She takes out the bills and her stuff (coupons and magazines) and I get the rest.  Weight wise, I get 90% of the mail.  Quality wise – 3%.

I noted that on February 1st, we received our Christmas card from Carrie (the Weird) Baker.  This was really early for her.  I hoped everything was OK.  Usually the card arrives so late, you are not sure whether it’s late or early.  We won’t be able to complain to Carrie about our snow, because she lives in Rapid City, South Dakota.

At Fort Riley, I was a member (and for what seemed forever, the miserable Secretary) of the Ancient and Honorable Order of Lion Tamers (AHOLT).  This gaggle had no social redeeming value.  But each year, we took a picture of ourselves and the miserable Secretary mailed it out to all previous members as our Christmas card.  We made great effort to mail it out before St. Patrick’s Day.

I was convinced that I would have more credit card solicitations than anything else.  I was wrong.  I only had two.  I guess they have given up on me.  The big winner was charitable solicitations.  If I ever gave a buck to a charitable organization, it never forgot me.  In fact, the Alzheimer’s Association sends me something every month.  I guess they figure if I’m concerned about Alzheimer’s, maybe I won’t remember that I have already given.

Right behind charitable solicitations are political solicitations.  In weak moments, I have contributed to both political parties  Consequently, I have made both of their mailing lists.  Do you know what?  I think the same people write the material for both parties.  “The other party (be it Dems or Reps) is part of an evil plot to destroy our country.”  The only way I can save the Free World is to send money.  It is really tough carrying this awesome responsibility.

Then there’s the mail where they want to sell you stuff.  A store closing sale.  Cars at bargain prices.  Membership at the Smithsonian.  Insurance solicitations.  Oh yes, let’s not forget lawn care.  I haven’t seen my lawn in three months.

I received two letters from brokers who want to take Carole and me to dinner.  Isn’t that nice?  We don’t even know them and they want to take us to dinner.  Maybe they are lonely.  I’m torn, but not that torn.

Golf Magazine wants me to renew my subscription.  What they don’t realize is that each year I go to the D.C. Golf Expo out by Dulles Airport and, as part of the entrance fee (which is quite low), I get a year’s free subscription to Golf Magazine.  There is a slight glitch this year.  It was to be held on the 5th, 6th and 7th of February when nobody could get out of their driveway.  The Golf Expo was snowed out.  But if it ain’t free, I don’t want it.

As I am wrapping up this list, I want to mention that I received three golf brochures from Myrtle Beach.  I am convinced that there are only two types of people at Myrtle Beach, golfers and those who mail out golf brochures.  I wonder if they could include a free subscription to Golf Magazine.

Now the US Postal Service is talking about not delivering on Saturday because they lost billions last year.  That would mean that I would have to wait the entire weekend to get my Alzheimer’s’ solicitation.  By Monday, I may not remember whether I have already donated.