Posted on 08/05/2020 5:32:18 PM PDT by Mrs. Warrior
After nearly a decade of enlisted service my husband became a commissioned officer, soon I found out what it meant for women to wear their husbands rank. We got to our first assignment and I was invited to the officers wives club. They were trying to get me to be a snob. I enjoyed my friendship with the enlisted wives and I was not going to be snobby. The colonels wife started to treat me rudely. She started to call me “that country girl”.
She started to have fund raising events and was leaving me out. At the next get together she asked if any one had questions about the post. “Yes, I do” I said. “I would like to know if I can have a rooster in my yard (we lived on post)?” “Why would you want to have one” She asked.? I thought I would have a little fun. “They are great alarm clocks, every morning they wake you up. No need to buy a clock”. “Well,what if you want to wake up at a different time?”, she said to be contrary. “Then we get an ax and chop his head off”. “We put it in the pot and eat him for dinner!” “Its called multi-purposing”!
Later when my husband was a training company commander, as a commanders wife, I decided that my Christian principles were going to be my guideline. I often baby sat for the younger families who could not afford daycare. We would have family fun picnics for unit support. I tried to make the unit more family oriented. One time a female trainee was abused while on pass at a party . My husband asked me how to help her. I advised him to “have her come to your office, and I would be there; then you leave and we will have some time together”.
When we made this happen, my husband was conveniently called away by his First Sergeant and left me alone with the young Soldier. I let her talk with me woman to woman and she could say what she needed to. I saw her trying to be tough and respond as a Soldier. As gently as I could, I told her “you need to cry now”. “You put all your feelings into that cry, then we will cry together in prayer before the Lord Jesus Christ”. “My husband will deal with the military side of things, but then you stop crying and when you face those soldiers you keep your own self respect as the best way to show that you are better than them”.
She asked me if she should go back home? I asked her why she joined the military? Her story was a sad one. I told her I respected her decision and that she had come along way. “If you could finish your training then you would be able to keep the dream you started with” I told her. “You will have your dignity back, and you could be proud of yourself again”. “Be strong in the Lord and in the power of His might, I will always pray for you!”
OMG...that is it, exactly!!!!
You can imagine what that looked like to my 11 year old eyes when it was filled with red...
Sounds plausible. The flour would absorb some of the fat and would brown up like a biscuit.
Oops, I said “brown up”. Didn’t mean to be a racist.
You need to spend some time with Joe Biden.
You could come back here after you learn what you sound like.
They are coming for you. Run. Now.
That it was the national colors?
That it was a bucket of blood?
Truly, I can’t imagine,
Beet soup?
It was tripe in red sauce!
So...when I peered into the the tureen, it was all bright red liquid, with these bone-white strips of things that looked like the texture of a thermal t-shirt (kind of a waffle pattern) but appeared to be made out of vinyl or rubber floating and poking up out of it!
I was a fussy eater, and dug in my heels in an instant and decided there was no way I was going to eat that...it looked like the skin had been flayed off of some alien and them boiled in its own blood!
Hahaha...fortunately for me, everyone else including my dad had the same reaction!
I know tripe (the lining of a cow’s stomach) is supposed to be an Italian delicacy, but I was having no part of it!
When I lived in an Italian enclave, I used to hear about tripa, but no way!
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