The Hot Tub Deck

This Morning's Sunrise

Spring is Here at the Ranch!

 

I do so love Spring!  The ranch is never lovelier! 

What I Need is a Good Command Sergeant Major, or Wildflowers of Soldiers Heart Ranch

This horse is always giving me so much trouble, and she is a ring leader when it comes to the other horses getting in trouble, she will lead them astray every time...  The whole group is out of control!  My kingdom for a good command sergeant major!

I have spent the last three days trying to keep the horses in the pasture.  Once Blue learns a new "horse joke," like shoving the entire T-post fence over , she just plays it over and over.  Because of the kind of soil we have, every hoof print they make must be filled in by hand or you flat can't mow the grass, it tears up even a Troy-Bilt!  Not t o mention that she finds it amusing to clip off the tops of all of my landscape lights, and the sewer system sprayers, plus she loves geraniums as an appetizer.  The wind is blowing like a hurricane here, there is so much work I want to do to have everything beautiful when my husband comes home, and everything is still gray, and I need a horse whisper or some sort of mail influence, as I seem to have spoiled every one of the littl e buggers. 

I came in and reviewed my spring wild flower pictures from last spring in order to calm my frazzled nerves, and give me inspiration to "Soldier on!"  Decided to share them here as well, so you can click on the first one and see a preview of spring too, I am about tired of everything being gray, I need some green!  At first I could not figure out how to make the needed repairs and actually keep the horses in while I was doing so without killing my back.  Sometimes things seem to small to bother God about in prayer, but I was awake all night long last night trying to figure out how to fix the fence so they could not get out, and I had to stay home from church to try and effect repairs before Blue and her "Band of Sisters," did some real damage. 

After talking with Randy from Iraq, it dawned on me a little prayer couldn't hurt.  I whined one to the Lord.  I walked out, immediately saw solutions I couldn't see before, and had them back in, and the fence fixed in 45 minutes...  I just smiled sheepishly and God, whispered thank You Father, and blew Him a kiss....   He smiled back while shaking His head.  Thought you too might enjoy a "pick-me-up" as we fight off the last of the cold weather and winter and enjoy looking at pictures of  His handiwork last year.

When God Sends a Woman Flowers

It seems to me that often media leads the way in the strangest of behavior; I am speaking of the vilification of American companies who achieve great success.  Sometimes when men and women conceive of great companies and then personally, through hard work, sacrifice, and dedication lead them to the greatness that was their vision, thus achieving the “American Dream,” they become a target.  As I said, for some strange reason, they always draw at least a few vocal critics.  It does not matter that they provide along the way to their success, good paying and secure jobs with benefits, for literally thousands of American citizens, give back to the communities in which they conduct business, and pay taxes into these communities.  Often that beautiful American principle that enables one to become, as my mother and father always instructed me, “anything you want to work hard enough to become,” makes them targets of criticism.  The particular irritant for some seems to be people getting rich while achieving the “American Dream.”  That to them is just not acceptable, and in their minds must involve something sinister and evil.  When this flawed thinking became acceptable to anyone but the seriously in need of medication, and extensive mental health services, due to being haunted by paranoia, I cannot recall, however,  the thinking is accepted by more people than one would think these days.  I could at this point share some of the highlights of the integrity with which Sam Walton lived, all he gave back, and stories that reveal his heart and intent, which will I think contribute to his going down in history as the remarkable person he was.  Instead, I would like to focus on my own personal experience with Wal-Mart, in particular the Sealy, Texas Wal-Mart, and the people who work and earn their living in this company in that same spirit with which Sam Walton first envisioned his company.

                                           

When we first moved to the Sealy/Bellville area we bought our dream place, 42 plus acres, partial ag exemption, big pond, 13 heavily wooded acres, a 126 year old antique barn, and a big three year old Solitare double wide with 2X6 exterior walls. (Colonel LeCompte balked at the “double wide” thing, but since he trusts me in all things, when I told him in a year he would never know it had ever been anything but an authentic Texas working ranch house, he bought it for me.)  It had some challenges, the previous owners had 9 children between the two of them, 7 still at home.  I did not know that bubble gum came in that many colors, that anyone ever let chickens roost in a bathroom inside their home, nor that weeds could become 9 foot tall.  It was explained to me that it was a variety of ragweed called “blood rag weed.”  I was soon to learn how it got its’ name.  In order to meet and actually exceed the flood plain requirements, as the pond was originally dug, the dirt had been piled higher and higher, and packed by the heavy equipment as they went, thus building the pad on which the house was to sit.  It resulted in a pad 9 feet above the flood plain, and the house was placed on that hill of dirt with only about six feet to spare at the widest area all around the flattened top.  That produced so many unique landscaping challenges.

When we first moved into our new home, we had a push lawn mower, a weed eater, and a machete that Randy had used in the Malaysian Jungle Survival School.  As most of you know, my husband is Colonel Randy LeCompte, a West Point honor graduate, as well as an Army War College graduate, and currently serving in Baghdad, Iraq.  He and his little machete began clearing weeds, but soon we realized we needed a little more equipment.   Of course, we went to Wal-Mart on many trips for needed materials, seed, and tools, not to mention the food to fuel both of us, substantial clothing, and gloves.

My husband so cherishes every moment spent at Soldier’s Heart Ranch, which we quickly dubbed our little paradise in the making.  Soon, his mind began to realize what release he found in being home, working on the house and barn, working with the horses, or just loafing on the 1100 square feet of wrap-around porch I added.  Much of the success of my husband’s life is found in his ability to completely focus on everything he puts his hand to, and today the ranch is a reflection of that.

The human mind can do that.  It can also rehearse the horrors of war, even when a man or woman struggles to prevent that from happening.  My husband has always had a heart for his Soldiers who encounter problems with PTSD, the name for the biological condition that develops for some serving in war zones.  As he enjoyed using all the new tools he bought at Wal-Mart, and worked to make our property our home, he began to realize what release from the thoughts of work and soldiering he found, and what complete peace he experienced.  That was when the idea for our 501-C began.  The idea of sharing with members of the military a place to stand down, rest, and refresh from the work required from those serving and their families took shape along with the rose bushes from Wal-Mart.  

Planting and growing things was for me the best of all the good things at Soldiers Heart, because I love all forms of self-expression.  Gardening is something that renews me.  I was soon going to need things that renewed me. 

My husband deployed for Afghanistan, and the original year he was to be gone turned into eighteen months, then two years.  Life got a little harder, and as time went on harder still.  Every week I made trips to Wal-Mart, and Texas Wal-Mart people being who they are, soon I was sharing with them that my husband was “gone to war.”  They responded the way Wal-Mart people do, with words of encouragement, and by asking me each time they saw me how I was doing.  Each responce was a genuine expression of care. 

Deployments, especially extended deployments, can become lonely and depressing for those holding down the fort.  That happened to me, and one day as the deployment stretching seemingly endlessly before me, I complained to God, asking why so much was required of me.  I moaned and groaned, cried, and wondered to Him how I would ever survive.  A series of events happened that afternoon which reminded how little I really was sacrificing, compared to the suffering that goes on in this world, but that is a whole other blog…  I repented for my weakness, asked the Lord to forgive me, and then God being my Loving Father sent me flowers to remind me just how much He loves me.

Of course, you are thinking I am speaking metaphorically, I am not.  From the time we moved to Sealy, I frequented the garden center at the local Wal-Mart.  The people who worked there had come to know me quite well.  They knew when my husband was home on leave, because he came in with me, and as my special Wal-Mart friend said… “my face was different, smiling as I used to.”  I had left my business card for the work we do with the military with the garden center.  After my session with the Lord I had gone outside to work in the yard, where I always went when I needed solace.  The fact that our fledgling efforts as a 501-C had many more of those we were serving, than support from any who were giving, so I was a little short on money to spend on anything to plant during that late summer.  I took the phone from the house and laid it on the porch in case my husband called from Afghanistan, where at that time he was serving.  Need I say it was the phone I had bought at Wal-mart?  It rang and I answered, it was the manager of the garden center, asking if I would like some plants that were no longer fresh enough to sell.  She said that she thought that with some tender loving care they could be revived, and she knew of our 501-C status, and the work we were doing.  She went on to say if I could pick them up, they were mine.  When I went to pick them up they completely filled the back of my truck, and my heart.  I lovingly planted my flowers from God, and several times since I have received a similar call from her, each time on a day when my heart was faint, and I have been petitioning heaven for strength to do what is mine to do.  To remind me  once again he loves me and will see me through this, God just calls Wal-Mart.

The News

It has been a long time since I last posted here. A long and challenging year, with my husband so far away, so much work to do, and dealing with the fears that constantly try to creep into my mind and heart. There are so many when the person you love as you have never loved before, stands in harms way. It isn't the "known enemy," the terrorist bent on the overthrow of our democracy alone that I worry about. General McChrystal fell victim this week of a more obscure and sinister threat. A Soldier's personal thoughts on his job always have to be guarded so closely, never can his or her discouragement be given voice, not in any forum. There are dangers too from "climbers," those who serve out of the love of power and position. The Army is made up for the most part by the greatest of our citizens, those who serve from patriotism and love of this country and our way of life. However, by the definition of the job, making war against our enemies, guarding and protecting our country and its' constitution, there are those few who are attracted by power and the use of it. Like some of the eighth grade girls who try out for cheerleader, nothing is off the table in securing their personal goals. A good Soldier can become the target of these "climbers.

I've had some trouble sleeping, staying awake worrying about where he is, what he is doing, and what dangers lurk around him. At first he was only to be away a year, then when I had reached the half way part I learned he would be extended another six months, and I was at square one again. That was when I had to struggle as never before in my life with the creeping darkness of depression at the corners of my mind. Randy came home on leave, he was just as he had left, maybe even better. I could tell he was healthy, deeply satisfied by the work he was doing, and fulfilling all God created him to be. The only weakness I detected there was the dart of worry which crossed his eyes whenever he detected any hint of difficulty in my or Brian's life. The thought that any of us whom he loves being in difficulty without him having the ability to problem solve us through it, is his kyptonite. He can work eighteen hours a day, sleep four hours a night, and reach peak performance every day. In fact he is one of those rare individuals who finds those kinds of challenges empowering. When you are in his presence somehow the "ten foot tall and bullet proof thing" wears off on you, and in fact inspiration comes that this thing could be a cinch. I know the Soldiers working with him know this to be true.

When a year had past and it was time to sign his extension orders, they arrived with a one year extension. Somehow I had known they would, I didn't experience creeping depression this time, but rather a resignation, and a numbing feeling that never would he come home. Last week at a Commander's Conference at Rock Island Arsenal, I met two women at the training provided by Army for spouses. One was the mother of a fallen Soldier, and one was the wife of fallen Soldier. She talked of her life as an Army wife, how she had loved it and her Soldier. Then she told of a dream she had, and in it her husband had been killed. She told us through tears how two weeks later the chaplain and an officer arrived at her door with "The News." I have never heard such moving words.

When I was a little girl, my precious father read to my sister and I every night. Despite his formal education only reaching the eighth grade, he has been an avid reader all of his life, and it has carried him far. He loves poetry, and often that was the content of his reading each night. I love all forms of self expression, playing piano, gardening, painting, and anything else creative, but never had I written a word of poetry. When I returned from the conference, it poured from me. The following is a poem I wrote inspired by the words of the beautiful woman who spoke them to those of us who share the experience of a beloved spouse serving the country somewhere dangerous and far away. I will never forget her or the love she expressed for her fallen Soldier, and the sacrifice she made and still makes when the chaplain and an officer arrived at her door and she received "The News."

The News

Oh Woman, Woman, why do you wait?
There stands no person at your gate.

Oh Woman, Woman why is the tear in your eye?
He promised he'd be home, bye and bye.

Oh Woman, Woman, why do you turn your ear?
What soft voice is it that you hear?

Oh Woman, Woman, why does your heart lurch?
It is only a man coming from the church.

Oh Woman, Woman, now I see there are two,
One in a green uniform with something sad he must do.

Oh Woman, Woman, I definitely know,
How hard the way that you must go.

Oh Woman, Woman, surely you remember,
That he promised love like yours is ever tender.

Oh Woman, Woman, the wait will be short.
He's only gone before you for heaven's report.

Borrowed from some Marines

This communication arrived for me some time ago, it moved me profoundly. I am typing from my air-conditioned, comfortable, home... My husband and men and women like him from across the country are wearing 50 pounds of Kevlor in unbelievable heat, as our son said when we told him Randy was being deployed, "well Dad, you gotta do what you gotta do." So now I will share the thoughts of the brave men and women of Baker Company... and as they say, "one picture is worth a thousand words...."

SLEEP LAST NIGHT?

Bed a little lumpy....

Toss and turn any...

Wish the heat was higher...

Maybe the a/c wasn't on...

Had to go to the john...

Need a drink of water...?? ?

Scroll down

Yes.. It is like that!

Count your blessings, pray for them,

Talk to your Creator and the next time when...the other car cuts you off

and you must hit the brakes, or you have to park a little further from

Walmart than you want to be,or you're served slightly warm food at

the restaurant,or you're sitting and cursing the traffic in front of

you,or the shower runs out of hot water,

Think of them... Protecting your freedom!

To all the men and women doing "what you gotta do" this Memorial Day, thank you for your service, we are, because of you....,

THE HOME OF THE FREE BECAUSE OF THE BRAVE!

The proud warriors of Baker Company wanted to do something to pay tribute to our fallen comrades. So since we are part of the only Marine Infantry Battalion left in Iraq the one way that we could think of doing that is By taking a picture of Baker Company saying the way we feel. It would be awesome if you could find a way to share this with our fellow countrymen. I was wondering if there was any way to get this into your papers to let the world know that 'WE HAVE NOT FORGOTTEN' and are proud to serve our country.' Semper Fi! 1stSgt Dave Jobe

The attached photo was forwarded from one of the las t U.S. Marine companies in Iraq . They would like to have it passed to as many people as possible, to let the folks back home know that they remember why they're there and that they remember those who've been lost.

Power... is desirable... sometimes

One of the ways to deal with having a husband who is deployed is to work hard, really hard, that passes the time productively, and makes you tired enough at bedtime that you don't think too long... just fall into the deep sleep that comes when you are completely spent. In the interest of seeking that state I rented a large back-hoe, and for a week I have spent 14 hours a day shaping the land and creating spaces that control our tendency to flood during the occasional four hour rain that produces 10 inches of water running through the ranch.

For a girl who can't open a jar of pickles without assistance... the ability to lift all kinds of dirt in a single scoop is power indeed. I can lift bales of hay, move the stock tank, deepen the creek which runs across the pasture, and fill the new raised rose bed in a single scoop. There is such peace in being up as the sun comes up, listening to the birds, (the blue birds are back from where ever they go during the winter,) and watching the flowers begin to wave in the breeze. The new little goslings and baby ducks are anxious to get out of their little coup and explore their world, and the baby turkeys and baby pheasants run after their larger cousins peeping loudly as they try to keep up. They all attempt to follow me as go to the back hoe to begin my work because they have never known a mother having arrived from the hatchery orphans, and assuming since I feed and care for them that despite my unsightly appearance, I must be their mother.  I must shoo them back, and they protest.

Then the large machine rumbles to life, progress begins, and my mind is rested and centered on productive and good things, and the worries of war and white phosphorus, suicide bombers, and the sufferings of humanity for the time are shooed from my consciousness.

Now it is time...

Today it is time to start this blog in earnest. I have begun a journey that so many others have taken before me. Early Saturday morning Randy left for a tour of duty in Afghanistan. He will be gone a year with a leave in the middle of that time frame. My entire life I have been an independent woman, always capable of taking care of myself and those I love. I had always been the "care giver," but when I married Randy he was so capable, so energetic, such a stickler for doing things promptly, completely, and to the best of his ability, I slipped into a state of "spoiled woman syndrome," before I knew what happened. It was just so easy to let him do things for me. At first it made me uneasy, made me feel a little guilty, but then... what can I say, I just melted into that warm safe place of not even having to think about so many things, he just took care of them. Planning... oh does that man love a plan, almost as much as he loves the completion of a plan. Of course I have already found that the independent capable part is like riding a bicycle...

But Soldiers Heart will be my solace... The birds, flowers, the horses, Ginger, and of course the work we have begun here. Randy loves it here, finds his own solace here. When we were married his daughter, Rebecca, sang Twila Paris' song, "The Warrior is a Child." The words talk of how even the bravest warrior needs a place of rest, where he can lay down all of stresses of war. Randy has always found that here. We had one weekend recently when everyone was away but the two of us. I watched him as the two of us spent the day working together, feeding the horses, working on the new round pen, eating lunch on the porch. There was such tranquility in his face, such love for this home. I could see him thinking of how he would miss it. I can often see what Randy is thinking of. His eyes reflect his intelligence, and I love watching them when he is deep in thought. Randy has a saying, a mantra that he lived by through his years at West Point, Ranger School, Jungle Survival School, and so many other difficult things, he tells himself, "if the man in front of me can do it, so can I." So I am telling myself of this journey, "if the woman in front of me can do it, so can I." So many women have done this before me, came through stronger for it, and empowered by the experience, with their love between their Soldier and themselves deeper and more meaningful. I don't know if my love can deepen, I am certain no woman has ever loved a man so deeply as I love Randy. I sometimes think about whether I admire him more, or love him more. Today, surely, I cannot decide. The story of my Soldier's life fascinates me, I think it will you too. The life we share, the ideals that govern all he does, and his moral courage no matter what the threat... in a world where seemingly more leave behind the ideals held in the Army's Seven Values every day, all these things are worthy of sharing. Many Soldiers truly live a life "above the common man." So another way I will endure this separation from the love of my life will be to write here, write about Randy, write about other Soldiers that it has been my privilege to come to know, and write about this small ranch that my Soldier loves so dearly.