Aches and freedom

My feet are killing me. I think they are in shock about the amount of walking. They haven’t been used all that much in Afghanistan – just from the house to the car (about 20 feet), from the dispatch office to my office, about 100 feet, from my office to the bathroom upstairs (a western style bathroom), maybe 50 feet and occasional trips to the finance office and south side of the compound, another 100 feet at most.

I spent most of the day re-installing myself, re-emerging clothes, stuff and cleaning the dog hair from the places the cleaning ladies couldn’t get to. I required many trips upstairs, downstairs, into the basement and to the attic of the barn – always carrying things hither and thither.

I received a very enthusiastic account of F. during her first few days in the UK and now at her new school. Farid also sent me a very enthusiastic account of his first few weeks down in New Mexico. It is unfortunate that these are the only two accounts I can expect.

Axel asked me to go to the high school football game tonight. During halftime he and the team mates with whom he won the 1961 championships will wave at everyone and everyone will clap to commemorate this victory half a century ago. The team met up at a local bar to warm up, everyone wearing their team jerseys, newly minted – it was a joyful reunion. I watched from the sidelines sitting on a stool to relieve my aching feet. I declined the invitation to watch the game and drove myself home. Imagine that, didn’t even have to call dispatch for a car.

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September 2011
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