Sunday, September 8, 2013

How I spent my Sunday...

If you've seen my travel blog, you might know that I hate our local HEB.  So Bill and I decided to go to Randolph Air Force Base and try the commissary.  But first, Bill determined he needed to look for some of the things we weren't able to find.  We are still searching for my diplomas. but we did manage to find my ribbons...


I thought these might be gone forever...


As you can see, I was way into horse shows...


On the way into Randolph AFB, we saw some crazy clouds...


Randolph AFB has a big phallic building...


Clouds look more ominous as we head for the commissary, which was a lot less irritating that HEB.



We came out of the commissary to heavy rain...



The rain did not strike where we live.  It's still dry as a bone here.


There were a shitload of birds' nests at the commissary...


Bill got soaked because he got the car and brought it around... Like a true gentleman, he held an umbrella over the bagger.  My hero.


The Asian ladies in the commissary were happy that we took lots of sushi home... and paired it with a lovely Gruener Veltliner Austrian wine.  It was delicious.  The dogs enjoyed new toys and Nylabones.

I'm still searching for my diplomas...  But we did manage to find my cassettes, which I also thought might be lost forever to the moving gods.  There's hope yet.  At the very least, I do have photos of me in my academic regalia.  My hair was glowing orange in those pictures.  But at least the black robe is slimming.

I don't have anything rantworthy to write about right now.  I'm sure that will change soon.  

2 comments:

  1. I wish I had access to a commissary. My mom received an appointment to Air Force Academy, but she couldn't pass the physical because of cardiac irregularities that ended up just being precursors to thyroid disease (sometimes the manifestations predate the actual elevation of t3 and t4 levels) but the military doctors were afraid it was something worse and wouldn't take a risk on her. I wonder if she would have still somehow wound up with my dad. Maybe, as the original plan was for her to go to med school, and she wouldn't have gone to Stanford if the military was paying for it. UC-San Francisco, where my dad was, would have been a more likely outcome. So who knows what might have happened.

    Regardless, I wish I had use of a commissary.

    Good luck in finding your diplomas, and I'm glad you found your ribbons.

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  2. Yeah, it was good to find them. I feel guilty for not getting my diplomas framed, especially since my dad used to own a picture framing business.

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