You know you're a cop spouse when . . .

You know you're a cop spouse when . . .

You don't know what day of the week it is because you quit working some time ago and his weekend is Mon-Tues-Wed.
You don't even PLAN on having him home for dinner because after 27 years, it's hit and miss.
You eat cereal for supper when he's on duty because its easier than fixing something for just one person.
You celebrate Valentines Day by going out riding with him.
You celebrate 4th of July, anniversaries, birthdays and most other special days by going out riding with him.
You know all the 10 codes.
You know what a deuce is.
You don't have arguments; you get into a 415.
You love the sound of Velcro in the morning.
You have a list of restaurants in your head where you can't eat.
You have to run in and pick up the take out because "I think I arrested someone from there last night."
When you go to the escrow office to sign the paperwork for your new house, he hesitates at the front door and checks his feet for blood because he doesn't want to track blood into the office.
He knows the inside of many of the houses in your little town.
You can build your own fence and fix all sorts of things around the house.
He goes to the grocery store and comes home much later than he should have because he saw someone who had a warrant/was stealing booze.
You say your last name and people say they know your husband.
Little kids tell your kids that their daddy knows your daddy . . . And it's not in a good way.
You've got a black and white in your driveway and everyone in town knows where you live.
Your kids end up with a wicked, cynical sense of humor "just like your dad."
You're used to him not disbelieving, but not 100% believing everything you tell him.
You've been told, "everybody lies.”
You don't say "ok" you say 10-4.
You're en route when you're on your way.
You don't say “what" you say 10-9.
You've had arguments about all the OT he's worked and HASN'T put in for.
You miss doing holidays with extended out of town family.
Your family, some of them, still don't understand why "he can't just take the time off."
You know what to look for in a drunk driver.
Your own investigative skills are pretty good and you can tell when your kids are lying.
When your daughter's not home yet and it's three in the morn, you don't hesitate to call the SO and they help you locate her "watching stars" up in the mountains with a boy (and she really is watching stars).
You know just how much you can speed over the limit without inviting a traffic stop.
You refer to getting pulled over as a traffic stop.You're told not to touch his clothes because of something icky on them.
You get poison oak off your husbands uniform because he was "down in the creek looking for bums."
You know what methyl-ethyl-bad-shit is.
You don't call to find out why he's late until its been a couple of hours past when you expected him because he’s rarely home right after work.
You know what choir practice is.
Your husband got to meet Blankie from The Brave  Little Toaster . . . professionally . . . and not in a good way.
Steven Segal looks up to your husband.
Your husband comes home smelling like weed.
Nothing seems to get his adrenaline going and it drives you crazy because you maybe have a few ADD tendencies and all sorts of things are exciting and don't you just see how cool this is?
You listen to the scanner for company and because its comforting to hear his voice.
You've had death threats, kids have had threats, he's had threats. Everyone's been threatened but, thank God, no bad guys have been stupid enough to follow through on those threats.
You're used to tiptoeing around very quietly.
You've had turkey dinner at the office on Thanksgiving.
You've had Christmas dinner at the office.
Your 5 year old refers to her daddy as an owl.
Your sweetheart brings home wild daffodils he picked at the cemetery overnight.
He takes cigar breaks at the cemetery in the middle of the night.
You've cried like your heart is breaking because one of the local deputies was killed in a shoot out.
You have to worry about shoot outs.
You never ever EVER want to see a cop car that isn’t his show up at the house, with another vehicle you may not know, when he's on duty.
You run down to pick the kids up from school or go to the store and he calls you to tell you there's a gun under the seat and just leave it there and don't forget to lock the car.
You have dark curtains around your four poster bed.
You screen all your phone calls.
You know what a blue canary is.
You have to move his belt and his vest from your chair so you can sit down.
There's all sorts of reading material laying around the house, from evidence handling to legal updates to case law to the new computer system.
He gets phone calls at home at all hours when the computer at work crashes, when someone needs to know how to write a search warrant, when someone has a question about whether or not they can search a car, when someone has a question about how to write a report and on and on.
You discuss training scenarios.
You go to wild parties in your younger days, family bbqs in your mid years, and then feel forgotten when you're older because all the young kids are out having their wild parties and family bbqs and they either don't think about inviting you or just figure you know you're welcome, but you don't really realize that because in your day people called to invite you over.
Your granddaughter tells you that Grandpa's job is more important than yours because "he keeps us safe."
You have a drawer with Jim Brown leather equipment, keepers, bullets, batteries, extra flashlights, and a myriad of other things all flung together.
You know what Jim Brown leather is.
You don't have a "honey do" list, you have a "honey, look what I did" list.
It's not yes or no, it's affirmative or negative.
You refer to the PD as your second home.
Your kids run around and play at the PD and don't think that's out of the ordinary.
You’ve always got Tums and baby powder on hand.
He’s had more injuries than a professional football player.
You know more about the meniscus and supraspinatus than you care to.
He has more naked stories than a porn star.
There are photos of evidence, car accidents and random people on his cell phone.
You both joke about you dragging him out to his car if he keels over at home.
You have Tuesday daytime sex.
You know what a donnybrook is.
You know what he's talking about when he says he got a 10851 when he was on his way to C7 and the guy was 11-5 and 148'd him so he went 1015 and sent him south.
He drives past the fire chief/volunteer firefighters/on duty cops/deputies while he's off duty and they flip each other off.
You know the phonetic alphabet.
You can sing the phonetic alphabet to the tune of the regular alphabet song without stumbling.You’re paranoid to let your kids/grandkids out of a fenced yard on their own because you know what can happen, even in sleepy little towns.
You don't like cop/donut comments because your husband works his ass off.
You end up a changed person just as much as he does, though not in the same ways.
You can say that your husband has made a change in the world and you can point out people he's saved, in one way or another, and you're so proud of him and you realize you'd do it all over again, despite all the negatives, because that's just who he is.


There's more, but it's late and my pillow is calling me.  

Law Enforcement Life - IT'S NOT JUST A JOB

I know, I know.  I haven't been on here in AGES.  But here I am now.  A new cop wife on the National Police Wives Association page asked a question that I responded to.  I thought it'd be nice to post my answer here.  I'm not sure how it'll work with formatting, but I'll give it a try.

Her question:

"My husband just started with the sheriff's department and just found out he is going to be working nights. I'm really struggling with it! I have a 2 year old and also due on Aug 4th. I support my hubby and don't want him to see me secretly freaking out that he won't be home @ night and I'm a little nervous that I can't do it all! How did other Leo wives deal with this? Thanks."

My response:

Our small department works 12's and my husband prefers nights as it's when you can get the most done as far as being a crimefighter. After 30 years it's become our normal way of life. 

Someone mentioned reading I Love A Cop by Dr. Ellen Kirschman. It's an excellent book and I highly recommend it. In fact, we recommend it to all of the new cops' families (this includes their parents). I'd also suggest you read Emotional Survival by Dr. Kevin Gilmartin. He's a retired cop and everything he says WILL apply to you and your family. Get to know the other wives in the department and get to know your neighbors. If you need someone in a hurry, and your husband can't get away, they'll come in handy. 

When our kids were little, and not yet in school, we adjusted their schedule to match their daddy's, without getting it too out of whack. Depending on what kind of shift he works (10's, 12's, 8's), you might be able to do that. We let our girls stay up later so they could spend time with him and then we just slept in later. 

You get used to being a married single parent and you just do it because it's what you need to do. Your feelings are going to be hurt many times when he'll be unable to be around for Mother's Day, Easter, Christmas, etc. Get yourself a good support system so you don't end up being alone and lonely on important days. That'll just make you miss him more and make you resentful. We ended up in a small town, 4 hours away from any family members. Getting to know the other families in the department was so important. 

Remember that he really is married to you, not to his job, and that getting home to you and your family is his number one priority, even if it doesn't always feel like it. This is his calling and what you're doing is your calling. BOTH of you are now in this big wide world of "public service." It definitely won't always be appreciated by the outside world, but then again GET YOURSELF A GOOD SUPPORT SYSTEM OF OTHER LEO FAMILIES. Have I said that enough times?  Good luck. I wouldn't trade these last 30 years for anything. 

And . . . no heavy conversations, arguments, fights, etc. before he leaves for work. You don't want a distracted/ticked off cop on the street. It's dangerous for him, dangerous for his partners and dangerous for whomever he needs to protect. 

One more thing . . .  . . .When you're a cop, it's not just for the time you're at work. Go to the grocery store and run into someone with a warrant and he'll end up doing his work on "family" time. He'll get called out when you have plans. He'll have court on his time off. He'll see things happen off duty and he'll need to address them. It's not a job. It's a life. You'll get used to it.

And (one more thing . . . really), if it's allowed in your department, go on ride-alongs when you can. You need to see what your husband does. It will give you a very good understanding of what he has to put up with. It's that whole 8 hours of boredom followed by 30 seconds of sheer terror thing. Plus you'd be amazed at the number of (how to put this nicely) stupid people they have to deal with.

To be continued . . .

Part 2

Everyone lies.
Expecting the worst.
He will change.
He will see bad things.
Keep the house relatively nice and non-chaotic.  His refuge.
Some things he won't tell you.
Some things he can't tell you.
You'll learn how to do things you never thought you'd do and you'll have to do things on your own.

Carbon Monoxide, Katie and Emma and How We Dodged A Bullet

or  How God Was Watching Over Us And We Didn't Lose Loved Ones

A reminder for me to write this . . . another "stay tuned."  This one's important.

October in Oregon

I was up in Oregon a couple of weeks ago, visiting my folk, sisters, niece, daughter and grandsons.

One of the days we took a drive up towards St. Paul to take some photos of growing trees.

These are trees in a nursery in the area.  Their colors really were beautiful.

On the way home, I stopped along the coast in Humboldt County to take some photos.

This is one of my favorite photo sites there.

I haven't had much of an inclination to write much in the last six months or so.  There are some health issues going on with my mom so I've been trying to get up there more.  It's still not as much as I'd like, but it's more than it has been.  I'll TRY to be better.

Letter Writing

      I've been going through boxes of old papers recently, sorting everything by year.  In doing so, I sorted 30 years worth of family birthday cards.  I pulled all of those out and sorted them by recipient.  They're all in separate containers now while I think of some artistic way to display them and then give them to the girls.  Card with notes on them are the best.

    I miss receiving cards and letters.  We all stopped sending cards when we started sending birthday greetings via email.  It's just not the same.  Letters are like a diary, historical documents.  You can read through them and piece together what was going on in the writer's life.  Yes, you can do the same thing with regular emails, but they lack something by not being in the author's handwriting.  I can't see anyone printing out their regular emails, tying them up with pretty ribbon and storing them away for their children and grandchildren to read.  Maybe I'm wrong.  It's really not the same though.   

    Email is nice for its' immediacy and volume, but, to me, there's nothing like a newsy letter that you can read over and over.  It doesn't even have to be anything exciting.  I have letters from my Grandma that just talk about what she did that day or that week; how much she canned, how the gardens were doing, who she visited, how my Grandpa was.  The mundane details of her life were interesting, even if it didn't feel like it at the time.
    While sorting all of those old papers and cards, I read letters from Mom and Grandma.  Those letters from Mom are especially important to me now.  

     I know that we're all still loved even though we don't receive cards or letters any more, but there will be no written record  of the bits and pieces of our lives to pass along for future generations.  I miss that.  I think they will as well.

     A couple of other interesting stories on the same topic; A Bag of Letters Tells A Personal Story and The Vanishing Art of Letter Writing.

Take pains ... to write a neat round, plain hand, and you will find it a great convenience through life to write a small and compact hand as well as a fair and legible one.  Thomas Jefferson
     
In an age like ours, which is not given to letter-writing, we forget what an important part it used to play in people's lives.  Anatole Broyard
     
When he wrote a letter, he would put that which was most material in the postscript, as if it had been a by-matter.  Francis Bacon
     
The word that is heard perishes, but the letter that is written remains.  Proverbs
     
Sir, more than kisses, letters mingle souls; for, thus friends absent speak.  John Donne

     

We lay aside letters never to read them again, and at last we destroy them out of discretion, and so disappears the most beautiful, the most immediate breath of life, irrecoverable for ourselves and for others.  Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

     
I am a little pencil in the hand of a writing God who is sending a love letter to the world.  Mother Theresa
     
Or don't you like to write letters.  I do because it's such a swell way to keep from working and yet feel you've done something.  ~Ernest Hemingway

     

Letters are among the most significant memorial a person can leave behind them.  Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

Grandma

So . . . remember back in January or February when my 96 year old Grandma was in palliative care in the hospital?  She'd fallen, shattering her shoulder and breaking her arm and, while in the hospital, was found to be suffering from congestive heart failure, with her heart only being about 12% effective.  Or something like that.  The doctor gathered the family up there together and they had a meeting and she told them that she wasn't God, but . . . that Grandma had days or weeks as opposed to months or years.  Guess what.  Grandma got out of the hospital and went home back in March.  She's doing great, for 96.  She's walking around, taking care of herself and generally hanging out.  The doctor was right.  She wasn't God.  Grandma's still ready to go, but apparently it's not time yet.  I love having my Grandma around!

An Open Letter to the Drunk Driver that Hit My Husband

I received permission from the writer of this letter, An Open Letter to the Drunk Driver That Hit My Husband, to repost it here. To quote her, "The more we share, the more likely we are to get people to understand the bad choice drunk driving is for all involved."

Forget 'don't drive drunk.' DON'T DRIVE TIPSY. We don't all know when we're over the legal limit, but we certainly all know when we're tipsy. When you get to that point, DON'T DRIVE.

I thought this was definitely worth sharing.

Grandma and Emma

This is my favorite photo of my granddaughter, Emma, and my Grandma. It was one of those fortunate serendipitous moments that I was lucky enough to catch. My Grandma is 96 1/2 and currently in palliative care in a hospital in Oregon. It's ok, though, because she's ready to die. She knows where she's going and she wants to be with my Grandpa and the rest of her loved ones. She's an amazing woman.

This photo was submitted to the I Heart Faces photo challenge – www.iheartfaces.com

Happy Saint Valentine's Day

Jim's Tribute to Judi

So tired

I'm watching the boys for a week while Cherlyn's out of town. Tonight's the third night and I'm already exhausted. Part of that is because I'm sick . . . well, I'm sure most of it is because I'm sick. Much is happening, but, frankly, I can't think of anything to write. I'll feel a bit more inspired later. Might be after the new year. I love new beginnings, a clean slate.

I have photos to post as well. Later. Sleep now. Just some sleep.

Rome Map, Take Two

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Rome

I'm helping my sister plan her trip to Italy.  
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Red, White & Blue Challenge

I Heart Faces is doing a challenge this week on Red, White & Blue.  I thought I'd post a few of my 4th photos.  

Willits Frontier Days ended yesterday with the 4th of July parade, the huge community barbecue, the last rodeo (oldest continuously running rodeo in the state of California!) and the close of the carnival.  It drew in people from all over, just as it has for the last 85 years.   

REAL cowboys.  Lee Persico, on the left, performed at the 1939 World's Fair with his pony, Buck.  

Willits Horsemen's Association

The American Legion honored just a few of our local military kids.  Thank you to those who choose to serve their country in this way!!

My 4th consisted of riding along with my police officer husband (he was working OT) on the evening of the 3rd and then again on the 4th.  Life is good in a small town.

And . . . for my last little bit of red, white and blue . . .

Mazahar's patriotic frillies.

For more 4th of July photos from 2009 and 2010, take a look at posts tagged "Frontier Days."

Happy July, everyone.

Jim's tribute to Judi

Jim talked a bit about Judi. (The graveside ceremony is the post just before this one.)

Here's the video:

Judi Buchfuehrer's graveside service

Following (in two parts) is the video taken at Judi Buchfuehrer's Orthodox funeral.

I'm . . .

A Grandma again!! Hallie Rae was born on February 2 to my youngest and her husband. Photos to follow because things are busy because . . .

We're empty nesters again!! Middle daughter and granddaughter moved out at the same time resulting in my house being in a total state of chaos.

At some time in the future, things will be "normal" again. For now, I'm plodding along trying to organize, rearrange and not forget all those wonderful ideas that keep popping up and then disappearing before I can write them down. Yes, that will be one of my changes. Must get paper next to wherever I am.

Time Zooming By

I've got to get myself some sort of a schedule. I feel like my day is zooming past me and I'm not feeling like I'm accomplishing much. Time to take charge.

Speaking of taking charge, Katie and Emma are moving out! It's about the best (in my opinion) it can be. They'll be just four houses down the street. It makes for a pretty good safety net for them. We'll see how it goes but I'm excited for them and I'm excited for us. That means that pretty much the next week (ha!) or so will be filled with rearranging furniture and rooms. Mike will hate it.

Steps, Days 7-22 (Nov. 8-23) Part Two

Day two and we're ready to continue our drive to Odell (pronounced like 'yodel,' by the way).  Thanks to googlemaps, you can join me on our drive.  We left Swineshead and the next village we'll come to is Riseley.  

As you can see, we're in the middle of farmland out here.  There are a lot of little villages in the area.

Just coming into Riseley now.  There are a lot of houses in this village that are listed in the British Listed Buildings site.  

I LOVE this cottage.  I love the color, the beams and the thatched roof .

This one is pretty cool, too.  I like the way the windows are set into the thatching . . . or the way the thatching is built around the windows.

I'd live here, too.  :o)

This one looks like it should be an inn.

The Fox and Hounds in Riseley, Bedfordshire.  I think we should pop in for a bite to eat!  Check out their menu.  I think I could make a meal of just their starters. 

So we've had our lunch and now it's back on the road.

The doors on this old barn struck me.  I'm a sucker for doors and windows.

Seeing this makes me wish I was there.

Looking back.

Look at the difference in the weather.  Most of the time we were there, we were fortunate enough to have lots of sunshine, but we had our share of foggy days, too.

We're going to take a little jog to the right and then back down in the direction we were headed.

We could turn here to go to Odell, but we're going to go up a bit further.

We'll turn in here.  

I love the signs.  Wait until you see the arched bridge.  Better hope for no oncoming traffic.

Wonder how old this thing is?

Almost to Sharnbrook.  I love their old barns.  They're so much cooler than our old barns.

Another Wesleyan Chapel (Methodist).

Stone building and thatched roof.

Best be careful when you step out your front door.  You might step right in front of a moving vehicle.

More stones and thatching.

We turn left here to go to Odell.

I love their churchyards.  I think a cemetery SHOULD have upright headstones.  I don't care for the flat markers set into the ground.  Doesn't seem like there's a whole lot of character or individuality in that style.

Check out the houses on this street.  Wow!

Through the roundabout . . .

Check out the signs to get our bearings . . .

and back on our way . . .

to Odell!  So what's the big deal about Odell and why would we make a point of going to visit there you might ask?  Well, one of my ancestors, Reverend Peter Bulkeley, was born in Odell and was the pastor of All Saints Church there.  He was also booted out of there for "nonconformity."  As a result, he and a bunch of his followers headed off to the New World to take advantage of religious freedom.  He founded the town of Concord, Massachusetts.

This is the Rectory Farm for All Saints.  We passed it on our way to the church and came back after we went to the church.  We stopped in and bought some jams and then went back to the church.

Why did we pass it by the first time and then go back?

Odell's High Street

I love the way the buildings are right to the street edge.

If you look close, you can see the wall that's the beginning of the church property.

Almost there.

Ah.  All Saints Church.  We got here and hopped out of the car to look around and go inside.  Problem was, no one was there.  We looked around outside and then saw a note that said to go back to the Rectory Farm for the key.  There was no way they were going to give a couple of Americans the key to a 800 year old church, with no one there to supervise.  Or so we thought.

We went back to the Rectory Farm and met a very nice lady who indeed did give us the key.  It was an old skeleton key, about 5 inches long.  I'll try to get more photos on here later.  For now, these will have to do.

When we were there, it was May and there were flowers blooming everywhere.  It was spectacular.  We walked all over the grounds and then went inside.  I took a bunch of photos inside and we were even able to go down some ancient stairs and then up into the bell tower.  

Not ALL the way up.  Just to a second floor and then to where the rope hung down from the bells.

So cool.

Well, our little outing for the day is done.  When we went home, we took the motorways so we got home much quicker.  The lady we talked to at the farm was surprised that we'd driven "all that way" to visit the church.  They consider 25 miles a great distance.  

Now that I'm trying to get Christmas stuff ready and things ready for our short trip to Oregon (all us "kids" get to be together after not seeing each other for six years!!), I probably won't have much time to do my "walks."  I'm not sure so I'm being noncommittal.  :o)  There are some more special places I want to visit, though, so we'll see.