Explaining the Inexplicable

Both of this blog's regular readers have probably noticed by now that the blog hasn't been written regularly for a few weeks now. There are quite a few reasons for this, mostly involving the pleasures of relocation. Back on June 11th, which feels like an eternity but was just slightly more than two weeks ago, we closed out our quarters in Honolulu and got on a plane for Houston. (I'm never flying Northwest again, but that's another story.) Since then, we've been living in an Extended Stay America. The room is about 15' by 25', and is currently occupied by two adults (at least physiologically), two children, one demon-posessed cat, and one neurotic border collie. This is not a situation that is conducive to mental health. Unfortunately, it is a situation that's typical when military moves are involved.

To put it another way, for the crime of being a member of an Army Family, I've been sentenced to spend more time confined in a small space without the vast majority of my personal possessions than a young socialite recently served for violating the probation she received for endangering her own life and the lives of others.

Now, in fairness to the Army, they do provide some relocation assistance every time you have to pick up and move. They provide a dislocation allowance to cover (some of) the expenses that inevitably arise with a move. That's good, because there are always expenses when you relocate. The old curtains never quite fit the new windows, the movers won't ship the tank for the gas grill, there are rental application fees, security deposits, and utility hook-up costs, and there's the difference between the replacement cost of the stuff that gets broken in transit and the depreciated value of the items (which is what the government will pay when they get around to processing your claim next year). Then, of course, there are the other expenses. When you have no kitchen utensils, you eat out a lot. When you have no furniture, you spend a lot of time in a hotel. When the military moves you from Hawaii to Texas. you spend a lot of time with no furniture.

I loved living in Hawaii, and I want to again, but the isolation of the Islands is a bit of a drawback sometimes. One of the most important factors driving the biological history of the Hawaiian Islands is that they are way the hell out in the middle of the Pacific, thousands of miles from any continent. That's lead to some amazingly cool evolution - you don't find snail-eating caterpillars anywhere else. Unfortunately, it also leads to some amazingly long shipping times.

Our furniture was picked up in Honolulu on May 16th. It still hasn't arrived in Texas yet, and won't be considered to be late until July 10th - almost 30 days after we got here. The military does provide money for temporary housing when you are returning to the US, but only 10 days worth. We're out of pocket for the rest, which is why the whole pack of us are making do with one room.

Between the insanity caused by the lack of space, the semi-regular internet connection problems here, the keyboard problems I was having with my Mac, and other assorted lunacies, it's been hard to work up the enthusiasm for blogging lately. I pace when I'm thinking, and there's no room to pace here, so thoughtful posting is hard. That leaves whining about present circumstances, and I've got a feeling that you don't want to read too many more self-pitying diatribes.

Fortunately, I've managed to fix the keyboard problems, and the end of the hotel room tunnel is close enough to give me some hope, so I should be back up and running shortly. I'm going to put some things together this weekend, which should be enough to carry things through until we move into the new place. If you can bear with me for just a little longer, I'll get things back to abnormal as quickly as possible.