It started with bacon; or, the best laid plans of mice and men

So far, everything has gone smoothly.
Relatively smooth, anyway. That is, if you don't consider being in a hurricane in a strange place by yourself, or being in mourning from losing your dog the day before you move to another country, it's all been quite splendid.
We've tried to keep the glass-full mentality on this whole move. Within five days of getting a job offer, we managed to jump through some difficult hoops rather unscathed and got passports, physicals, and pounds of paperwork completed. Within 3 weeks of a job offer, I was in Cuba. Whoa.
And today started with BACON.
I was eating with some of my new Gitmo friends Friday night, and I was bellyaching over the lack of bacon at the NEX. There is a ton of turkey bacon (really, who eats that stuff?), but for two weeks in a row I haven't been able to get REAL bacon because it has been sold out.
So when a co-worker came up to me first thing this morning and said, "Welcome to Gitmo!" while presenting me a gorgeous slab of bacon, I knew this was going to be a great day.
A happy bacon story is, of course, preshadowing that the other shoe is going to drop.
Texas freak cold front means right before boarding the plane this morning to come here, the husband is pulled aside and told he can't board the dog because it's two degrees too cold.
TWO FRIGGIN' DEGREES.
Then the Tuesday flight from Jacksonville NAS to Gitmo was rescheduled for the next day. They will stay in Jacksonville for two nights before arriving on Wednesday.
So Spike is now at his (human) grandma's house in Georgetown until some time that one of us can travel back to get him. I'm glad he has a home to go to with someone who loves him (and another dog that he loves, too), but after losing Katie, I'm going to be selfish and say I really miss my dog and wish he could be here. I'd already bought him food and treats, and I'm going to give them away so I don't have to see them every time I pass the pantry. Yep, I'm a little sad. Actually, I'm a lot of sad.
I would have a celebratory bacon sandwich tonight in anticipation of (most of) my guys' arrival to raise my spirits, except I left the damn package in the staff fridge. Doh! At least I didn't leave it in my desk drawer. . .
I've been grateful, I'm counting my blessings and my lucky stars, but I'm ready for everyone to be here. Like, right now.

On a random tangent, here's a picture of the Halloween decorations I put up for Henry. When I told him we're moving, he was very concerned that we would be getting here right at Halloween, and the number one thing he wanted to know was if I could get "some of those fake little headstones" to put in the Cuban yard. Thanks to my pal Beth, I got plenty, and instead of packing shoes, clothes, or other necessities, I made room for fake little headstones in my suitcase so Hank will be a happy boy.
Plus I now have bacon. And if anyone loves bacon more than I do, that would be Hank.
Thinking of my east coast friends and family. Stay dry, stay safe, and I'm crossing my fingers and toes that this storm fizzles out.