The Search

(Source)

Oberleutnant Krausse was uncomfortable in the back of the small aircraft. The mountaineer was most definitely not afraid of heights, but the Fieseler Storch¹ was light and bounced a lot in the updrafts and varying winds of the mountains to the east of Litenhavn.

Though his Luftwaffe pilot, Hauptmann Kurt Dressler was completely unphased as he handled the bird like the expert pilot he was, Krausse was still a bit queasy, especially after a strong gust nearly blew them into the trees alongside the ridge next to the valley they were searching.

"Whoa, that was a strong one!" Dressler laughed as he deftly avoided what Krausse felt was certain death. "It's tricky flying in the mountains, you're lucky you got me as a pilot, I learned to fly in the Alps!"

Krausse simply nodded, knowing that the pilot wouldn't see it, he almost didn't care, then he spotted something on the ground.

"There! Tracks leading across that clearing, from one stand of trees to the thicker forest on your left!"

Since discovering the building not far off the road where they had found the abandoned Kübelwagen, Krausse had reported the find to Oslo. When one of his patrols discovered the body of the missing SD man, they sent an aircraft to aid in the search for the partisans.

They had been lucky that there had been no snow since the body was found, as the patrol had also discovered tracks leading away from the building higher up into the mountains.

Though the tracks had vanished due to high winds and drifting snow, they had a general direction for where the partisans might have gone.

Krausse had studied the maps, there were any number of places a small band of partisans could hide, but there weren't that many where they could camp all winter.

All of the known hunting lodges were examined, a number of them from the air due to the sheer inaccessibility of reaching them at this time of year, all had turned up empty.

A local man, a man who was a member of the Nasjonal Samling² and had a son in the Waffen SS³, had tipped them off to a remote location, less than twenty kilometers from Litenhavn, which could support a small band over the winter.

"Ja, lots of good fishing, lots of game, this small lake provides ample water. The nearby forest has wood aplenty, this place could support twenty to thirty men, easily. They wouldn't be comfortable, but they would think themselves safe enough." The man was Lars Fretheim, he had been the postmaster before the war and was generally disliked by most of the locals. He truly didn't care.

"I can take you there if you wish, it's a tough hike ..."

"No, that's all right." Krausse had answered, though the man's pro-German credentials seemed strong enough, he wasn't trusting any Norwegian to lead his men into the mountains, and a possible trap. Krausse's musings were interrupted by a shout from the pilot.

"Ah Krausse! I think we've found your partisans! You didn't tell me they had antlers!"

Krausse shook his head in disgust, the only tracks coming out of the forest were those left by a small herd of reindeer.

Quartermaster-Sergeant Herbert Wilkes placed his hand on Gilles Rousselot's forearm, "Leave him be, they're looking for us, I don't think they will spot us in these woods. They will see the reindeer and attribute the tracks coming into the wood to them."

Rousselot lowered his rifle, it was a fine German rifle he had taken from a man he had killed outside Namsos in the spring. Rousselot sighed with frustration, he was a very good shot.

"I could bring him down Chef, one shot and the pilot dies."

"Not today mon ami, let them think they have searched and found nothing but reindeer. Then they will look elsewhere." Wilkes wanted to let the man take his shot, but if the aircraft was downed, more would return. It would tell the Germans that there was something indeed in this forested valley to worry about.

Dressler banked the aircraft and started heading west.

"Why are we turning back?" Krausse asked.

Dressler pointed to a pass between the mountains to the east, a moving wall of snow enveloped the pass and quickly blotted it from view. "I'd rather not fly in that."

Krausse saw how fast the squall was moving, "I don't blame you, those are nasty enough getting caught in on the ground." Something caught his eye as they headed back to Litenhavn.

"Say, does that look like a frozen lake to you, near the edge of the forest?"

Dressler took a look, slid the aircraft in that direction, then said, "If I had to guess, I'd say yes, it's far too flat to be a mere clearing this high up."

The aircraft suddenly lifted of its own accord, then plunged sickeningly in a downdraft. "We need to get on the ground, and soon."

Krausse heard the engine get louder as Dressler throttled up. He was frustrated, but as he looked at his map, he figured out where they were. He marked the map with the words "ein See?⁴" Now he had to figure out how to get his men up here. His gut told him the partisans were nearby.

He wasn't wrong.

¹ Stork (German)

² National Unity party (Norwegian), collaborators with the Nazis.

³ Regiment Nordland was one of the SS units containing Norwegians, there were others, even Norwegians in the Wehtmacht. (Source)

⁴ A lake? (German)

Missing in Action

(Source)

As the patrol came around a bend in the road, Feldwebel Wolf Burkhalter spotted it first, a Kübelwagen, looking rather beat up, sitting abandoned at a pull-off beside the road. Burkhalter nudged his lieutenant.

"I see it Wolf. Looks like SS plates as well. Let's put out a perimeter, then we can look the car over." Oberleutnant Gerhard Krausse was wary of surprises, what better bait than an abandoned car of the type driven by the men he was looking for?

Krausse was puzzled at first when he saw that the windscreen had been folded down on the bonnet of the car, but the roof frame, which normally had a canvas cover over it, was still in place at the rear of the car.

Brushing the snow off the bonnet, he could see that the glass was gone from the windscreen and the frame for that was rather mangled. Something rang a bell in his mind but he couldn't quite put a finger on it.

He opened the driver's door and brushed the snow away, there was frozen blood on the pan of the seat, also traces on the steering wheel and the dash. An examination of the back seat revealed nothing out of the ordinary.

Krausse had to assume that the driver of the car had to have been injured, if not killed outright, by whatever the car had run into but his passenger, the SD officer, had not been in the front, but in the back seat. There were no traces of blood where a passenger in the front might have been injured.

"Wolf!"

"Sir?"

"Partisans, I think our SD major might have been taken captive. I think the driver was killed and his body disposed of, as he's obviously not in the car."

"Wire across the road?" the sergeant ventured.

That's when the bell in Krausse's head began to ring louder. "Of course."

For the first time in his life, SS-Sturmbannführer Roland Eckhart felt real fear. One of his captors was English, a Royal Marine in fact who had been cut off and left behind during the fighting around Namsos in the spring of 1940. The others were Norwegian with at least two Frenchmen. The two Frenchmen had also been cut off and left behind during the fighting in northern Norway the previous year. Eckhart spoke French and had overheard two men, obviously native speakers, talking about him. One of them had mentioned "la marine anglaise," Eckhart was sure that that was the man who had interrogated him.

It was amazing what a man could learn by listening, but sometimes what you heard was something you would rather not know. Apparently, through contacts with the Quisling government, the men who held him had learned that the German occupation forces were not interested in ransoming Norwegians for a single captive SD man.

Eckhart listened to the men talking, he had tried to work his blindfold loose, but one of the men had slapped him, hard, then tightened it to the point that it was giving Eckhart a headache. He wished he spoke Norwegian.

"I say we kill him and put the body somewhere the Germans will find it." Jakob Torvik's voice was low, but each man in the small room heard the anger in it. Torvik's wife and one of his children had been killed in a German air raid. His two surviving children were with his parents in Oslo.

Thore Wien shifted his position from where he leaned against one of the building's outer walls. He could hear the wind starting to drop outside, the blizzard could end soon. Then they would have to worry about leaving tracks. Though they were high in the hills near Litenhavn, the Germans were active in the area. No man wanted to try fighting the German mountain troops.

"Yes, we kill him, but we leave the body here," he gestured at a pile of debris in one corner, "bury it under that mess. They won't find him until spring." Wien continued, "We must leave soon, the storm will blow itself out by morning."

Krausse ordered the men to head back to the fishing village, the storm was dying, the roads would not get any worse. Oddly enough, the Norwegians were still plowing the roads. It made sense, he thought, they still needed to get around and make a living.

"Wolf, when we get back, I'll have Sepp's squad take a truck and tow the Kübel back to town. A few repairs, a new battery and we can use it ourselves until the SS want it back."

Feldwebel Burkhalter nodded, then got the men up and moving. As he looked around, he could feel the wind dropping. The snow seemed to be slowing as well. He wondered what had happened to the two men in the car. He had to assume they were both dead.

No doubt Oslo would send them up into the hills to hunt the partisans. He wasn't looking forward to that. Though his men were well trained and superb mountaineers, the men they were up against knew these mountains like their own backyard.

Burkhalter, had he but looked up, would have seen the half-ruined building some 500 meters up the slope on his left. The snow had stopped long enough to provide a glimpse of the building where SS-Sturmbannführer Roland Eckhart was being strangled.

"Er han død?¹" Quartermaster-Sergeant Herbert Wilkes asked his second in command, Korporal Oskar Solverson.

Solverson leaned over and checked Eckhart's pulse, he didn't really need to as the garrote had cut the man's throat deeply. But he wanted to be sure.

"Ja, han er død," Solverson stated matter-of-factly as he stood up. "Veldig død.²"

¹ Is he dead? (Norwegian)

² Yes, he's dead. Very dead. (Norwegian)

How About That Weather?

Chris Mannerino Photo

Saturday's post had Sarge talking about the lovely weather he's having up in Rhode Island. It's interesting how weather is something we all have in common, and we can always talk about it. Not to say we have the same weather of course, but we all have weather and it's something easy to either commiserate on or be happy with.  I was walking my dog yesterday afternoon and a neighbor greeted me with "It's a hot one, isn't it?"  Weather is just easy polite conversation that allows a connection, without actually meaning anything.  I'm quite fortunate here in San Diego to have good weather nearly all year long, never really getting very cold, very wet, and never snowy or icy of course.  We do have the negatives of drought and forest fires though.  The weather is a huge reason I continue to live here, but with that nice weather, it's easy to get soft.  I remember my first visit to Rhode Island one November for a 7-week School to train me up on the Tactical Actions Officer job on board the carrier.  That's the job in combat behind the big blue screens where you defend the ship if necessary.  I was wearing shorts and a t-shirt the morning I left San Diego, and it was in the 30s when I arrived at the base.  Quite a shock to my system, which made me appreciate SanDog more.  And made me consider trading in my leather flight jacket for a pea coat!

TAO on the job

I was semi-estranged from my father for some years after my parents' bad divorce, and when we did talk it was often forced.  Once we finish talking about Navy stuff, something we had in common that was comfortable for both of us, the uncomfortable silence would be quickly filled with talk about the weather.  I can't say it was the most interesting of conversation items, but I suppose it kept us talking till things softened up between us years later.

I'm sure you can tell by my past posts that I'm not a big fan of California, but that is really only regarding our government, crazy taxes, and ineffective leadership.  It's a beautiful state with a very diverse landscape.  Here in San Diego we like to brag that we could ski in the morning and surf in the afternoon, not that I really do either of those though.  I have considered becoming one of those refugees that Juvat speaks of, leaving California for friendlier climes, but it's really isn't feasible for us right now.  Having a special needs son in a group home, and having access to all of his services and medical care sort of anchors us.  Not that we couldn't move and try starting over with a new job, home, and services for my son, but things are stable and comfortable for us right now.  So moving is a big change I'm not willing to take on right now.

Back to my conversations on the weather with my father, it achieved a level of communication that I was satisfied with, although not really doing much to make our relationship better.  I think a lot of the things I grumble about, both here in California and on the federal level is that various policies only achieve a certain level of satisfaction by the policy makers, the people they are supposed to help, and the taxpayers who fund them, but don't improve anything.  There's a lot of emotion behind various programs, that makes people feel good, makes government leaders feel that they are doing something about the problems, but they really don't.  And sometimes they actually have a negative effect.

Source

For instance, consider our welfare programs?  Do we need them?  Absolutely.  I have no problem with helping people that are down on their luck, unable to work, or struggling to make it.  But does our welfare system do anything to help them get out of trouble, to give them a leg up and out of their need for those benefits?  Or is it too lucrative and easy for those folks to stay on the dole?  Also, does it help contribute to a fatherless society and single motherhood?  Probably.  After her divorce, my sister and her two sons lived in subsidized housing and received food stamps.  She was disturbed by some of the conversations she had with some of her unmarried neighbors who explained to her how she could get more money if she had another kid.  She got through that period of poverty and left that environment, but some others were just taking advantage of the system. These programs are clearly needed and very popular, but they can also be seen as perpetual and just paying people to not work.  

“Aid is just a stop-gap,”  “Entrepreneurial capitalism takes more people out of poverty than aid…. In dealing with poverty here and around the world, welfare and foreign aid are a Band-Aid.  Free enterprise is a cure.”  "Entrepreneurship is the most sure way of development."            - U2 frontman Bono

Source

What about green energy policies? Should we maximize our use of renewable energy? That's another absolute yes. The more we can do to reduce our impact on the environment, the better. But we, the American people, are also part of that environment. When government policies clearly cause a painful rise in the the cost of all goods and services, hurting nearly everyone in the country except the uber-wealthy, green isn't good. And this administration doesn't seem to care. We are definitely addicted to fossil fuels here in the US, with every ship, truck, train, airplane, and panel truck delivering our goods being reliant on gas or diesel to power their way to us. There's no way we can fully or even partially replace that during a single administration, or even a generation. We can improve our power grid and transportation system over time, but that'll take a few generations. Here in California the Governor issued an executive order requiring sales of all new passenger vehicles to be zero-emission by 2035 and additional measures to eliminate harmful emissions from the transportation sector. That makes no sense, is economically impossible, and isn't supported by current or planned investment in our already strained electrical grid. It also ignores rental homes and apartments which can't support electric charging for every vehicle. The order also ignores the massive amount of raw material required to develop every single battery in those electric cars which isn't very green either. And one last point on renewables- if we're going electric- using coal for that power is another example of doing something that feels good, but doesn't do anything.

Need another example?  There's also the recent trend to declare much of society as racist, and enact policies that supposedly fix that. 

Oregon Gov. Kate Brown privately signed a bill last month ending the requirement for high school students to prove proficiency in reading, writing, and arithmetic before graduation.                                                 Source

That's just dumbing down our system, and our students, not preparing them for the world they'll face once they graduate.  We're essentially giving up on our kids.  Kate Brown and Oregon Democrats might feel good implementing policies like that, but it will eventually hurt those they are trying to help.  This is the same issue I have with CRT, which divides people by race, claiming that society is inherently racist and there's no way out of it.

I'm not expecting perfection with these programs, and we should continue to help those in need, increase usage of renewable energy, and maximize opportunities for everyone, but they seem to have as many negative consequences as they do positive ones.  We have to go the extra step to not only put on the band aid, but check to make sure the wound is healing.  Policies can't just be political theater, and should be based on statistical analysis, vice emotional platitudes.  The band aid might make us feel good, but it's about as useless as me and my dad talking about the weather- it helped a little, but didn't get to the root of the problem.  

Winter

(Source)

Oberleutnant Gerhard Krausse closed the door to the office quickly, it was snowing again and the wind was coming up the fjord briskly. Even so, quite a few snow flakes got through the door with Krausse. He brushed the snow from his greatcoat, stomped his feet, then walked into the only heated room in the building where Unteroffizier Georg Schülze sat with a large grin on his face.

"Something amuses you, Georg?"

"I am continually amazed at the vigor with which the Gebirgsjäger do everything. You made enough noise cleaning the snow off of yourself to wake the dead."

Krausse chuckled, then took off his greatcoat and outer gear and sat down across from Schülze, "Anything new from our masters in Oslo?"

Schülze turned the document he had been reading around and handed it to his officer.

"What's this? Hhmm, hostages ..., strenuous measures to be taken ..., I don't understand, ever since that SD officer left, we haven't had any trouble. Why this, why now?"

"I talked with my counterpart in Bergen, according to him there was some resistance activities in the more rural areas, but with the onset of the colder weather, things have calmed down. He thinks, and I agree, that this directive is intended to keep us on our toes for when the weather gets better. I guess they're worried that the Norwegians might stir after a long winter and discover that they're still occupied by us. And not like that idea."

"I don't know Georg, the Norwegians here seem okay with the occupation, we leave them alone, they leave us alone. Do you see any problems?"

"No, but the bigger cities are starting to see passive resistance. Nothing overt, but things aren't as peaceful in the cities as they seem to be out here."

They had started the winter with six people: two regular army, two reservists, and two civilians. Premierløitnant Morten Henriksen had made the not so difficult decision to let the two reservists go in mid-January.

"Bjørn says the first really heavy snows are on the way, Åsmund, Sander, I can't make you stay and, to be honest, we don't have the food reserves for six people, it will be tight for the four of us who remain."

Sander Stohl wanted to leave, he had a young fiancé back home he hadn't seen since the summer. It was time to go home, he figured that the war was lost, the Germans were too strong.

On the other hand, Åsmund Baardson had mixed feelings about leaving. He had watched two of his comrades die in the opening hours of the war, killed by the Germans. His home in Oslo had been destroyed, he had no family other than these people here in the mountains. He turned to his lieutenant.

"Sir, I have nothing to go back to, no home, no family. If I have to leave here, where shall I go?"

Before Henriksen could speak, Hildur Tonnesdottir spoke up, "If you wish, you can come with me. Both of my boys are unaccounted for, I've heard nothing from them since shortly after the war began. A neighbor passed on a rumor that they had perhaps joined the King when he fled to England. But, like you, I have no one. Unlike you, I do have a home, provided the Germans haven't seized it."

Henriksen turned to look at Hildur, "Bestemor, I somehow thought that you would stay here with us."

"And do what, the cooking, the cleaning, perhaps I could make myself useful by mending your clothing! There's nothing I can do to fight the Germans, nor is there anything you can do once the snows come. I want to go home. War is a young person's game."

Henriksen thought about it for a moment, if she left, and the two reservists with her, then there would just be the three of them. But why would Mikkelsen stay? The hunter was older than the soldiers by at least a decade. Though he had lived his life in the outdoors, he too wasn't getting any younger. He spoke up.

"Martin and I are regular soldiers, by now the Germans probably figure that we fled to England with the King or died in the fighting. We can't simply rejoin society, the Germans are meticulous record keepers, if we simply showed up, offered our pay books up to get ration cards, or employment, they would be suspicious. Odds are, they would assume, correctly as it turns out, that we had been with the resistance and that when the winter set in, we decided to quit. I'm sure there have been those who have done that, but I ..."

Menig Martin Sundheim spoke up, "Sir, we can't go down into the town. I want to fight these bastards. Is there any way to get to England and rejoin the regular army?"

The old hunter spoke up, "If that is what you want, I might be able to help you. Olaf, the man I got the scope from, knows a man. A man with a boat. He might be able to get you to England."

SS-Sturmbannführer Roland Eckhart and his driver SS-Sturmmann Otto Greiz were heading to the hunting lodge near Litenhavn. Snow was falling and the day was cold, but Eckhart had made a lady friend at the lodge, the wife of a Norwegian sailor. She didn't know if her husband was dead or alive, all she knew is that she had no support, so she had taken a job at the lodge. Eckhart didn't care, he intended to bed the lady.

"The turn off to the inn should be coming up on your right Greiz, another hundred meters or so."

Greiz never saw the steel cable which had been strung across the road, the snow was falling faster, which should have caused the white stuff to build up on the cable, but the wind swept it clear.

They weren't going very fast, but they were going fast enough so that the cable, anchored as it was to two stout trees, sliced through the windshield as if it were made of butter. Greiz was nearly decapitated.

Eckhart shook his head, he had been thrown forward into the back of the passenger's seat in front of him. He had the wind knocked out of him but he was coming around quickly.

"Greiz you fool, what did you run into?"

Hearing no answer from his driver, Eckhart struggled to pull himself back up onto the seat. That's when he felt the wind blowing into the passenger compartment, that's when he noticed the steel cable running from one side of the compartment to the other.

After impact the engine on the Kübelwagen had stalled, then the car had rolled back some, allowing Greiz's head to slump forward. To Eckhart it seemed that his driver had simply lost consciousness, when he leaned forward and grabbed Greiz's shoulder, the man's head lolled to one side at a sickeningly impossible angle. That and the blood soaking the front of the man's tunic was Eckhart's first clue that this was not a simple traffic accident.

The second was when a pair of strong hands yanked the car's rear door open and pulled him roughly from the back seat.

"What do you think ..."

A Norwegian rifle butt knocked the SD man senseless.

Oberleutnant Gerhard Krausse found himself in Schülze's office once again.

"What now?"

"It seems one of our SD men is missing, well, two actually, SS-Sturmbannführer Eckhart and his driver, SS-Sturmmann Greiz. They were supposedly traveling to that inn about ten kilometers to the east of here."

"Inn, what inn? Oh, you mean the hunting lodge!"

"Aber natürlich, Herr Oberleutnant, I'm a simple city detective who prefers the city streets. Yes, the hunting lodge, if you will. They never arrived."

"Why contact us?" Krausse asked, knowing the answer.

"They want a patrol to go have a look."

"In dieses Wetter?!¹" Krausse gestured at the window, the snow was falling harder, the wind made visibility almost zero.

"They didn't actually say when, Sir, but you know the implication."

"Phone them, let them know I'll do my best, but my men will have to travel on skis, I can't put an LKW² on these roads and hope to get anywhere."

Schülze lifted the phone, he then proceeded to rattle the handset several times.

"Großartig!³ The phone is dead. Perhaps the wires are down? It worked not thirty minutes ago."

Krausse nodded, "I'll lead the patrol myself, we'll follow the phone line out to the main road. I'll have my radio operator along, he can probably mend a broken line. He can also tell whether it was cut naturally, oder ..."

"I don't envy you being out in this storm." Schülze said, shivering as he looked out the window.

"We're trained for this, but yes, not my favorite thing either. If we're not back by tomorrow morning, then you can start worrying. Servus⁵!"

Schütze nodded as the lieutenant donned his gear and went back into the cold. "Good hunting!"

"Where am I? I demand that you release me!" SS-Sturmbannführer Eckhart struggled against the ropes that held him to the chair. He was shocked to his core when someone struck him, hard, across the face.

"Halt die Klappe, Arschloch!⁶" was followed by the pressing of a cold, hard object to Eckhart's forehead.

Eckhart recognized an accent, not Norwegian, something else, English perhaps? The man's German was very good, but not perfect.

"Listen carefully you SD pig. You have hostages in Litenhavn, now we have a hostage. You."

"La oss bare drepe ham.⁷" a nearby voice growled. Eckhart didn't understand what the man said, but it wasn't good. Not at all.

"You do know that they are searching for me, even in this storm?" Eckhart said.

"Well, they might find you, in the spring after the snow melts." the man with the odd accent spoke again.

The accent gave Eckhart's mind something to work on, he thought it might keep him sane in this nightmare he'd fallen into.

"How long, Johannes?" Krausse watched as his radioman examined the cut ends of the phone line. A very large branch had taken the line down.

"Not long Sir, the connection will be scratchy, but it will work. If I had the right tools I could do a proper splice, but ..." Gefreiter Johannes Tryb gestured at the surroundings. They were in a ditch beside the road, out of the wind but not out of the cold.

"Do the best you can," Krausse slapped Tryb on the shoulder then stood up and looked around. It was going to be dark soon, earlier than usual with this storm. He had two choices, neither of them good, they could make camp here and continue to the inn tomorrow, or head back to Litenhavn and see if the phone worked. Perhaps by then the storm would blow over. He doubted that they were more than three kilometers from Litenhavn.

His platoon sergeant, Feldwebel Wolf Burkhalter, came over to him. "We should camp here, Klaus thinks the storm will blow over in the morning. He's from the Harz, they know these things."

"Haven't we spent enough time in the mountains to know these things ourselves, Wolf?" Krausse squinted against the wind.

"Not like Klaus, has he ever been wrong?"

"Set up the Zeltbahnen⁸, we'll wait it out."

In the dark of a cold Norwegian night, the men would rest as best they could. Krausse assumed that the two SD men were dead. They probably were in a traffic accident, either they died in the wreck or the elements would kill them. Them being taken by the Norwegian resistance was the furthest thing from the lieutenant's mind. The Norwegians seemed rather like allies to him, not foes. At least they didn't seem all that antagonistic to the Reich.

He would learn.

¹ "In this weather?!" (German)

² Abbreviation for Lastkraftwagen, a truck (German)

³ "Great" (German)

⁴ A German will often end a sentence with "oder" (literally or) as a way of suggesting that other possibilities exist.

⁵ A very southern German/Austrian word. Similar to "ciao" and "aloha." Hello or goodbye, depending on context. Never heard it used in Nordrhein-Westfalen. Maybe that's just me.

⁶ Shut your mouth, asshole. (German)

⁷ Let's just kill him. (Norwegian)

⁸ Shelter quarters (German, literally "strip of canvas"), each man was issued one, four could be put together to make a small tent. Not roomy but better than nothing. DAMHIK

Which Doctors?* Update #3

 Well, Campers, it's been a pretty "Special" week at Rancho Juvat since last we spoke.  LJW/DIL arrived safely a week ago Sunday.  We've got her ensconced in our guest bedroom for the time being.  Guest reservations in both cabins til next weekend, doncha know.  The whole Baby ETA change thing has thrown the planned schedule off quite a bit.  

She had an appointment with one of the local OB-GYN Doctors.  The Doctor had reviewed her records from HK and after giving her a look over agreed with that Doctor's diagnosis.  Unfortunately, the 'Burg's hospital doesn't have a NICU (Neonatal Intensive Care Unit, Beans.  A term I've known less than a week, so don't feel bad!) so she highly recommended that LJW/DIL meet with a colleague of hers.  That Doctor has privileges in a hospital in San Antonio that does have a NICU.  His office is in Boerne (Burn-eee) which is about halfway between here and San Antonio.  

Doable. Especially given the circumstances and rewards.

The good news is while LJW/DIL thought she was only ~25 weeks along, the Doctor in Boerne (henceforth "The Doctor") said she was more likely (as of today) about 27 weeks along.  This is excellent news as the viability of the baby goes way up if birth occurs after 28 weeks and continuously gets better after that.  Again, that knowledge has only recently been inserted into my brain.

She has another appointment in Boerne today.  Depending on answers given at that appointment, LJW will be boarding a flight and coming home.  While I'd love to have him home, I hope Grand Daughter #2 (GD2) gives him another couple of weeks or more.  

Please, Lord?

On lesser drama, medicine wise, both Mrs. J and I have had positive reviews from our respective Doctors.  She had that "special" check up that involves a clear liquid diet to prep for.  No news is good news.  I had a follow up with my ENT Doc.  Everything checked out good, although I still have virtually no sense of smell.  That caused them to schedule another appointment in a few weeks to see if it has returned.  If not?  Who Nose?

The leg is still a bit bruised, but much less so than last week.  Aches at night a bit, but again better.  I have found that I'm much more situationally aware of my foot placement than I used to be.  Pain seems to be a pretty good teacher. 

On a more pleasant note, this week was MBD and SIL's anniversary.  They came and stayed in one of the cabins during the week.  They were hoping for a little privacy for some reason, so MG stayed with us and we got to play Grandparents for a few days.  All by ourselves with no parental supervision.  Man, did we have fun!  We also had forgotten how much work almost 1 year old's can be!  

Not much longer until re-childproofing the house is needed!

 

Still...wouldn't have traded a minute of it for all the money in the world.

Also this week we got a bit of something I believe is called...rain? Or something like that.

Got a couple of inches but the winds were gusting to 70MPH.  One of the clinics in town lost their entire metal roof.  We, thankfully, didn't have any damage.

Heck, juvat, even cows know to come in out of storms like that!

Lots of oars in the water, so please forgive my lack of comments on Sarge's story or his Portulaca postings.  I do read them, most of the time in a waiting room. I just don't like to comment using my phone.  My speling is bad enough with a regular keyboard.  Using the phone would render them Swahili-esque

Peace out y'all!

Update: Just got word from the Ladies.  The appointment went well.  The Baby's heart rate is normal and she appears to be doing fine.  LJW/DIL's blood pressure was a bit high. (I wonder why.) But other than that the Doctor seemed happy.  Thanks for all y'all's prayers.  Still got a way to go yet, but I'll take good news any time I can get it.

Update #2: The Doctor and the Ladies have decided that LJW/DIL will be staying in the hospital until delivery.  Little J has modified his flight reservation and will be here day after tomorrow.  Lots of somewhat minor things that I think were starting to add up.  I also think the drive time to Boerne was a factor.  Probably a good choice.

Update 3#:  All is well. GD2 was born about 2 PM yesterday.  Mom is doing well and the Premie Doctors are very happy with GD2's size, weight and organ functioning.  For those of you with Medical savvy, her APGAR rating was 6.7.  We were told that was very good.  More to follow on Monday as more development occurs.  Thanks for all your thoughts and prayers.

* a more politically correct way of spelling.

What?! No Fiction!?

If you look closely, and compare the above to yesterday's photo, you might notice something new. Yup, a panicle hydrangea tree has been planted in the center of all those portulaca. The Missus Herself put that in a couple of days ago. (So yeah, that picture from yesterday wasn't actually taken yesterday, or even the day before yesterday - which is when I wrote the post.)

If you have figured out by now that, "Hhmm, no historical fiction today," them you're ahead of the game (or keeping up, Hell I don't know, it's been an odd weekend so far, lazy without much actual thought being put into anything, well, almost anything ...).

Saturday was another gorgeous day without much need for air conditioning beyond a fan. Nice breeze off the sea, temperature around 80°, a very pleasant day conducive to relaxing and enjoying life.

I did track down The Prisoner on Amazon Prime (via something called Freevee, which used to be IMDb, it is free but with some ads, not too bad, a lot of those "talk to your doctor if unpronounceable Greek-ish/Latin-ish name might be right for you," advertisements  with a long undercurrent of possible side effects). It's also on the Tube of You, so thanks Greg, the folks who don't have Amazon Prime will thank you for that. Though I doubt Jeff Bezos will. Heh, with the amount of money he has, he'll get over it.

Watched the first episode, took me back it did, great show. Give it a watch if you have the time (link).

Now (changing the subject, sort of), while I was over at YouTube, I found a rather attractive German lady who does a very, very good job of explaining German stuff. Here's her channel, as you are all probably very aware, I have a certain fondness for Deutschland and die deutschen. Her channel made me a bit homesick it did, ah, dear old Waldfeucht, miss you I do. Anyhoo, if you like German stuff, she is very informative and very entertaining. Danke Feli!

That's all I've got today, I'm far too busy enjoying myself to do anything which smacks of even a little bit of work. I can bang out a post like this in thirty minutes, easy-peasy-lemon-squeezy, the historical posts, we're talking three to four hours, on a good day.

And today ...

Ain't nobody got time for that!

Be back Tuesday, enjoy your Monday juvat, I always do.

Be seeing you.

Summertime Blues

It's Friday (as I write), a very lovely, though warm, Friday. Warm as in the upper 70s, lower 80s, not much in the way of humidity, I'll take it.

This summer has been mild so far, reasonable temperatures and lower humidity than is usual. Not much rain, you can see that the grass is browning up. The Missus Herself wants to water the Hell out of it, I say let nature takes its course.

We had a couple of pretty hot days with beastly humidity this past week. Tough to sleep with only a fan, which is all we've got now.

The Missus Herself convinced me to put in a ductless central air system. She found a guy who, while cheap and probably good at his job, isn't licensed in Little Rhody. Makes me nervous that does, so we went in a different direction. A couple of grand more but with licensed people doing things on the up and up. 

Bottom line though is that instead of having central air now, we won't get it until August. Which I'm okay with, the system cools and heats, which means we should probably save money not having to use as much oil this winter.

We didn't put the window units in, but we will probably do that soon. Right now it's cool, later it is going to get hotter, not Texas hot mind you, but hot enough to drive me into an air conditioned environment.

Yup, no fictional post today, I just don't feel like writing today, maybe not tomorrow either. The Muse worked overtime last week and I'm happy with the results. I don't want to push it, you can't force creativity.

Had my mid-year review on Thursday, it went well, at least from my perspective. The people I work directly for like what I'm doing, and that's all I really care about, corporate can continue with their bullshit woke nonsense to their hearts content, I ain't playing.

That's right, homey don't play that.¹

But I did get some interesting news, my section manager's Dad (good engineer by the way, I've worked with him in the past) is a state senator. Apparently Little Rhody is phasing out income taxes on military pensions over the next five years. Little Rhody is, from what I understand, only one of four states that tax military pensions. How 'bout dat? I had no ideer.²

The Portulaca grandiflora (my favorite flower for those keeping score at home) are approaching full bloom this time of year. A little late as I recall it, but everything has seemed to lag this summer. Some summers are like that.

So that's it from me. I'll post something tomorrow, might continue the war, might not, depends on how the mood strikes me. I like to let the story line simmer at times. (My excuse for being lazy.)

Be seeing you.³

¹ Some of you might remember the Wayans brothers and the show In Living Color. That's where that comes from. Great show, I miss it.

² A phrase Buck was fond of, damn it I miss that guy.

³ From another great TV program, "The Prisoner" with Patrick McGoohan.