Mortaine’s Blog

Happy Veterans Day, all.

It should come as no surprise that I am not a big fan of the military. Despite having quite a few military men in my family, I’ve always felt that war is seldom an answer to anything. However, you all know that I like to explore all sides of an issue, and that if I can find nothing of value in views with which I disagree, then I probably am not looking hard enough.

So, here it is. For all the horribleness of war, for all it can bring out the very worst in humanity, it can also bring out the very best. Courage, sacrifice, generosity, honor– we find these in the platoons, in the refugee camps, on the aircraft carriers. The men and women who do both small and large things on the ground, make sacrifices both small and large, to help people who cannot help themselves. A soldier may be an armed and trained military person who makes a strike against enemy lines, but she may also be the woman who turns a child’s eyes away from violence, to protect them from the horrors. He may be the foreign aid worker who meticulously allocates enough bread and rice to keep as many people alive for as long as possible, at least until the next aid truck can arrive. A soldier may be a military man who, called upon in a time of need, raises up above the needs of the killing machine of warfare, and into the needs of survival, recovery, rebuilding.

When I think about Veterans Day, and what it ought to mean, I try to think of these things, the good that can come of such a terrible, destructive impulse.

I’m not in as much pain today, which is great.

I made a cross-stitch yesterday of a 4 wheel drive vehicle. It’s for the 4wd club holiday party– they do a white elephant exchange, and I decided it would make a good gift item (it’s going in the front cover of a photo album– I’ve posted pics of one of these before, which I made for John’s dad).

No idea what we’re going to do today. It’s raining, so cleaning the gutters is out. Not that I could have done that with my rib, I suppose.

Oh, and here is my childfree/breeder-bashing moment of the week:

I was at Starbuck’s yesterday, killing time and reading a book. There were two “mommies” (as in, from what I could tell, the majority of their respective identities were “I’m a mommy”) of under-two children, I’d guess about 18 months. Like most 18 month old babies, the kids hadn’t learned volume control or even words yet, so they periodically would babble at volumes that set off car alarms outside.

At one point, reading my book, I looked up and made eye contact with one of the mommies. At this point, I should mention, that the four of them (2 mommies, 2 babies) had been there for just about an hour without me saying a word or doing anything other than drink my tea and read my book and pray that the noise wasn’t giving me a migraine. An hour in a coffeeshop is, to my mind, about thirty minutes past the attention and patience limit of two awake eighteen month old babies under any circumstances.

The Mommy gave me this tentative smile. I didn’t scowl at her, but my lips twitched, tightening (frankly, people in my path this week are lucky I haven’t had a permanent scowl, as I have been cranky and in pain all week from the rib, but I digress). I turned back to my book, but overheard (because I was meant to, I’m sure) the other mommy saying “Don’t worry about it– it’s not like this is a library.”

Mind, I had just come from the library where, in fact, I was treated to much the same noise by the younger “patrons” of the library as well.

I’m not a fan of confrontation, plus I really just wanted to read (and frankly, I felt bad for Mommy 2 for having such an incredibly rude and obnoxious friend), so I was a big chicken yesterday and did nothing, just went back to reading.

So instead, you have to imagine that at her snippy remark, I casually, and without looking up from my book, remarked “No, but it’s not a playground or daycare center, either.” And in the ensuing and inevitable verbal confrontation, I eventually pointed to each of the other patrons in the cafe and said “See? Man reading newspaper. Woman reading book. Man reading laptop computer screen.” Finally, pointing at the mommies and singing: “One of these things is not like the others…..”

I tell you, there would have been a standing ovation. Preferably them standing and walking out in a huff.

Instead, they eventually got up and left, and the coffeeshop became a little quieter for a time.