Holding Patterns; or, White Walls

For most people, Easter and the Spring season represent a time for renewal.

For our family, it's Halloween. 

Halloween 2014 marked 2 years that the family has been here. In that time, we've accomplished quite a bit.  Our lives have changed in a myriad of ways. Year 2 brought new goals, and going into Year 3, there are even more. 

Despite changes, my biggest goal is to do nothing. I have put myself in a self-imposed holding pattern. I'm holding off on buying more clothes (despite shoe blow outs and my 2 favorite pairs of shorts recently falling completely apart). I am trying to use up all the toiletries without buying new ones. How many bottles of hair products or lotions does a person need? Same with canned goods---I try to challenge myself to buy only what we really, really need at the grocery store.

I have, in essence, tried to prepare myself for the best---that is, we get a transfer and will move to another part of the world next summer.

I want to take more classes online---I have taken 15 hours of grad hours (seriously) since being here, almost all online (yes, seriously), all in hopes of adding more certifications. More certifications open more doors---doors to more locations world-wide. However, I have put off taking more classes until I know a timeline. Why start something now I can't finish until May if it won't help me in March (and will just cause more stress in my hectic life)?

We've considered buying our son a car, but what if we move? Do we want to sell three cars instead of two? How many GTMO Specials does one family need? Will we have to sell them all? It depends on if/where we go.

I am not doing anything drastic, but  I am being cautiously optimistic. (On the other hand, as I recently told a friend, I am keeping my expectations low so I am pleasantly surprised if/when we move next summer).

There is so much uncertainty. Veiled language: the director would like a transfer, he supports a transfer. . . but he has made no official announcement about a transfer program or what it will look like. Supporting an idea and putting it into action are two completely different things.

I feel like I did as a young military wife. We were in our mid-20s and managed to scrap enough money together to buy a house at our first duty station. I was dying to paint every room a different color, but my husband kept reminding me that it was just temporary. Staying somewhere for 4 years is almost unheard of, and with our financial situation at the time, hiring someone to paint a house interior white in order to quickly sell it was not an option. So. . . I lived with white walls, and sure enough, he was deployed to S. Korea within 6 months, and then sent to WA instead of back to CO, and we moved to another house with white walls 18 months later while we did the wait-and-see life of a military family.

The first thing I did when we moved to our first (non-military) house in Texas was paint, paint, paint. Every single wall in that house was painted anything but white.

Our stairwell from the den to bedrooms. 

SO. MUCH. WHITE. And Rodney. And Nikki McClure prints. 

Unlike military personnel, I don't have an end date here. It's very uncertain. Living a life of uncertainty doesn't set well with many people. I've had tons of people ask when and where we are moving, and I think it blows their minds when I tell them that we honestly have no idea.

For now, we are living with a white wall mentality. This is temporary, but it will be home while it lasts. We will plan for the future, but not obsess on it. I am being cautiously optimistic and pragmatic at the same time. I have settled into the community, but I haven't put down roots---unlike any other military location, you can't put down roots here. With the exception of a handful of Cuban exiles who have lived here since the gate closed, everyone eventually has to leave GTMO.

The Universe Hates My Shoes; or, It's De-lovely to De-clutter

I've been plugging along, trying to keep afloat.

Some weeks, I've had everything mapped out and the stars were perfectly aligned for work. I haven't had to stay until 6 pm. I haven't had to go in at 5:30 am. I haven't spent late nights figuring out lesson plans.

Unfortunately, next week marks the 2nd week of a new marking period and the beginning of new teaching units for all four English classes (I know, what was I thinking??). So here we go again, more sleep deprivation (and freaky dreams) and more daydreams of escape (or vacation). . .

Daydreaming of escape brings me to the reality of here and now---I still have to get rid of more of our fine quality junk. The ultimate goal is to downsize, downsize, downsize. Tread lightly, leave more than we take, etc.

So I have made a fourth pass through closets. I've gone through files and shredded enough to make Ollie North proud. I've thrown out a ton of garbage---I do fill bad about that, since most is burned in a landfill here (and---lucky us!---our neighborhood is closest to it, so we do get to smell our very own garbage burning. Awesome).

For many people, one of the best things about living in GTMO is having eternal summer. (I will admit, though---I am totally ready for living somewhere with four seasons again. Heck, I'll even take two).

Eternal summer for me means I got rid of almost all of my spring, fall, and winter clothes. We managed to keep one large container of all of our good winter coats, scarves, sweaters, etc., but I have been ruthless in my attempts to pare down.

My tiny closet is still out of control. Shoes spill onto my floor. These are mostly shoes I brought with me; I have never bought nicer work/dress shoes since I got here, since they really don't carry any at our one and only store (or any I would wear).

I keep meaning to get rid of more shoes. The sad truth is, since I sprained my ankle badly last February, I can't wear heels because the pain is unbearable.  I don't want to face the fact that I may never wear heels again, so they sit, collecting dust, hanging out with my (seldom worn) fuzzy slippers; my completely worn out French Sole flats (holes and all--still my favorite shoes); my Doc Marten boots from the 90s (I'm bringing them back! I promise); seldom worn Chucks I can't part with; and a few single shoes that I SWEAR I will be reunited with their lost mates before we move.

I have decided that if I haven't worn something in 3 months, I'm getting rid of it. Therefore, I'm putting on clothes and shoes I haven't worn since I got here, and THIS happened last week:

Once or twice I blew out a flip flop ("stepped on a pop top"), but dang, my shoes just disintegrated within an hour of wearing them.

It's the second time it's happened since we've moved here---a pair of shoes that were perfectly fine in Texas fell completely apart when I put them on here. The soles just crumbled. It was bizarre. Is it the humidity? Is it because they probably endured extreme heat on the trip to GTMO? Or is the universe telling me that I don't need this many shoes in my life? Whatever the reason, as a result of the crumbling shoes, I ended up walking around barefooted for a large portion of the work day, until my lovely husband was able to kindly bring me a pair of (non blown-out) flip flops.

And what's yet another perk of island life, other than being able to wear flip-flops to your place of employment?

Nobody blinks an eye when you walk around barefooted (even if it's at work).