Chesno Traitor?

So, am I a traitor?

My chances of going to Afghanistan with my Army buddies came to a screeching halt on Sunday when I was told that I had to renounce my Canadian citizenship to get the required top secret security clearance to go. I did not renounce it and now I am not going.

That is probably for the best, but I can't help but feel a bit like a traitor when my brothers-at-arms are going off to battle with our newly-allied Afghani friends, and I am staying home because I pledge allegiance to another country.

But, I guess that's something I have to work out on my own.

Chesno Giardia

So, two days ago I was on one of our little "walking" trips as my co-worker likes to call them. He is quite the fit fellow and his favourite activity to do is go walking. So, to him, hiking is like "extreme walking". [I've used too many quotation marks already in this entry. I will try to control myself from now on.]

So, we are out for work surveying, he for plants, I for wildlife. We are on a 7 hour hike in 90+ degree (F) weather that takes us across MANY canyons, up and down, and up and down again and again.

About 4.5 hours or so into this, I run out of water. We were close to a small remote stream fed by snow melting high above us, so I figured if my choices were to hike for another 2.5 hours in that weather without water, or drink from a stream, I would drink. And drink I did. The water was cold and clear. At least on the macroscopic level.

I don't know what was there in the microscopic level. Could there have been a dead deer laying in the stream half mile up? Could a bear doing one of its famous poops in the woods happen to choose the stream as its location? Could I have just ingested giardia?

We'll see. Giardia has a 7-10 incubation period. Come next Tuesday if I am doubled over with terrible diarrhea and stomach pains, the answer will most likely be, "yes". However, I could probably use the time off of work.

Chesno Geek

Those of you who know me know I have many diverse interests. You probably know I am also a geek.

While I was out this week doing something as manly as flying in a helicopter looking for birds of prey, I had to soil the eveningtime with something truly geeky. I went to three different stores in small Richfield, Utah looking for a Star Trek movie. I finally found Nemesis at a local rental store and actually signed up for a membership I will probably never use again just so I could get a Star Trek fix.

Pathetic.

Chesno Chicks

So, last night I got back from two days of flying in the helicopter looking for raptors . . . again. This time we didn't "go down". I have a serious case of tired butt. Pretty sure that is the medical term for it.

Anyway, we were lucky enough to find a peregrine falcon nest, barn owl nest with eggs, see lots of owls, hawks, and falcons, and tons of golden eagle nests. Most were old and inactive but there were two that we found that each had three chicks similar to the picture included here (similar because these are bald eagle chicks not goldies).

All in all it was a pretty good trip, but I am still recovering from my dramamine "trip". I feel like a am going to fall asleep every 15 minutes. Now I know why the package said "Less Drowsy" and NOT "Non Drowsy". At least they were honest. I was "less" drowsy than certain times in Iraq when I went without sleep for 30+ hours.

Chesno Aspiration?

I found out the other day what happened to our helicopter. According to the pilot, the compressor, "aspirated a foreign object".

What does that mean? Well, that the height we were, there is but one choice. A bird was sucked into the engine and we went down.

We'll see if it happens again. I have Take 2 of helicopter fly time on Monday.

Chesno "Coughs?"

The hour after we returned from Boise on Monday I had to leave on a business trip to south-central Utah to do surveys along proposed oil exploration lines. Part of these surveys involved me going in a helicopter to look for birds of prey and their nesting sites. We do this by flying over mountain tops low to the ground where you can see the nests or the birds as they are flushed from the nests by the helicopter.

We took off on Tuesday morning and flew our first line to survey. We flushed one red-tailed hawk and were just about to begin the next line when the helicopter jolted two times with a bad noise.

Having been shot at while flying in helicopters in Iraq, my immediate reaction was that we had been hit. My co-worker looked back and said, "When we get down, get out fast!" I said, "OK", and braced as the pilot brought the bird down fast. He was able to land softly, but I jumped out quickly. That was when I saw the smoke coming out of the engine.

After we got out, my co-worker climbed to the top of a hill to get cell coverage and the pilot got on his phone. I overheard him say, "We felt two coughs."

"Coughs?" I thought. The engine wasn't coughing, it was more like jolts and smoke, but hey, I'm not the professional. Clearly, we were done flying for the trip. We went about our surveys, but now on foot and the pilot towed the helicopter up to Salt Lake for repairs. I'll let you know when I find out if it has the flu, an allergy or was being examined for testicular cancer. Afterall, it only coughed.

Chesno Easter

I haven't written in a little while because my family took a trip to visit my brother in Boise and then I had a business trip to leave on within an hour of returning. We were there for Easter on the 16th and my 31st birthday on the 17th.

My brother and I come from a family of great cooks. That is what we were looking forward to doing during the visit--cooking together. For Easter dinner after church we made a garlic and fresh rosemary-studded pork loin, mashed potatoes, apple gravy, homemade dill and onion bread, and steamed green beans. I am used to cooking for literally an Army, so I think I may have gone overboard. Evidently, three young girls and two small boys don't each eat a pound of potatoes.

For desert Jon made me his own recipe of dense chocolate cake in four layers with alternating almond paste and seedless raspberry jam all topped with mountains of chocolate frosting.

The easter bunny also showed up and delivered all kinds of treats to the kids. By strange coincidence the adults all found out that sour Starburst jelly beans are about the best easter candy ever made and those nasty Peeps and Cadbury Creme Eggs don't hold a candle to the sour beany goodness Starburst created.

Most importantly, Jon and I were able to talk like adult siblings and friends. This doesn't happen too often as when we are together it is usually in a setting where we are trying to hold the family together and create an environment that (somewhat), resembles holidays of our youth. If not for anything else, that part made the trip a success.

Chesno Hiving

I got a disappointing phone call on the 11th. Turns out that because of rain in California, my bees wouldn't be ready on the 22nd. The date was pushed back a week to the 29th, and maybe even until May. However, if I wanted, there were some extra packages (2.5 pounds of bees + queen), available immediately. I wanted.

My wife was kind enough to drive down to Salt Lake City and pick them up and transport approximately 15,000 buzzing bees an hour and a half back home. No doubt it was mildly intimidating, but she got it done.

That night they arrived home too late to hive, so I did it the next day at lunch time. There were thousands of bees flying around, but they all went to their homes just fine.

It's amazing how many people become interested in this hobby when you tell them that is what you're doing. If your not even the slightest bit interested, don't ask a beekeeper about his hobby, he will drone [delicious pun] on about it for an hour.

Chesno Year

Last night my wife and I were laying in bed and she asked me, "Have we reached the year mark of you being home [from Iraq] yet?"

As a matter of fact, we had. To the day. It was one year ago yesterday when I came home.

She asked, "Are you at a place now that you expected you would be one year from returning?"

I can (and did), honestly reply, "I am." It's been a good year. A fast year, but a good year. We have a new house. We have a new baby on the way. We have a good job. And, we have about 25,000 new bees that will be joining our family on the 22nd. Life is good.

Chesno Varenchiki

This last Sunday my wife, son, and I went to a friend's house for dinner. The house we went to was that of some Ukrainian friends of mine that I knew while I lived in Odessa on the Black Sea. It was mostly a chance to catch up on old friends, and laugh about how rusty my Russian is (as I haven't really spoken in 10 years).

More than all that though, it was a chance for me to gorge myself on the wonderful cuisine of Ukraine including borsch, golopsi, tvorog, and most importantly vareniki s'myasom. The food really is wonderful as long as you stay away from the cold meat jello (holodetz), blood sausages, and raw meatless bacon (salo).

We had a great time, stayed more than 6(!) hours, stuffed ourselves, and I began to bring my Russian back. All in all it was a great night. Plus, we were sent home with enough leftovers that I was able to enjoy it all over again yesterday for both lunch and dinner.

Chesno Disappointment

If you'll remember, not long ago I wrote a blog about my grandfather's birthday and how I totally skipped by it. Well, that event inspired me to write the National Personnel Records Center in St. Louis, MO. They are the repository of military records and I wanted my grandpa's.

I filled out the paperwork, and sent it along last month. I didn't expect a response in anything less than six months, but last Saturday when I was doing bee hives the mailman brought me a letter from our folks at the NPRC.

Turns out that in 1973 there was a fire at the repository and many records were affected. It turns out that my grandfather's were included in the burn. They were able to reconstruct a very few details such as his entry and discharge dates, where he was discharged (not 30 mins from my house), and most interesting to me, two medals he was awarded and that he was discharged as a PFC.

I find that incredibly interesting because he told me he was promoted and busted down several times during the war and wasn't on a career fast track or anything. He did tell me also that he was a sergeant in the Army--which is my current rank. Sergeant is two ranks higher than PFC. Wonder what he did to get busted down two ranks . . . Guess I'll never know.

Chesno Hives

I waited and waited because I knew my father-in-law wanted to come up and help me with it, so I held back. This weekend I was finally able to build my bee hives. I have been so excited, I'm surprised I was able to wait.

My in-laws came up to College Ward bearing gifts--a new oak bunk bed for my son that my father-in-law hand crafted. It really is beautiful and quite the gift. They also brought up a kite for my boy and candy. Quite the visit. But, the coolest part was Saturday when the weather was beautiful. We were able to assemble ten boxes and ten frames for each. We even got them stained.

Well, my father-in-law stained them as I sanded them. That's him in one of my old desert camo blouses and plastic skirt to stay clean. Now the waiting game begins. The bees don't arrive until April 22nd. So, very, long . . .

Chesno "Engrish"

My cousin featured this fun little english language analyzer on his blog so I thought I'd try it. My results are:

Chesno Slova Linguistic Profile:

70% General American English

20% Upper Midwestern

10% Yankee

0% Dixie

0% Midwestern

What Kind of American English Do You Speak?

Funny there is no Dixie speak in there. Wonder how "Ponch's" would turn out. He lived in 'Bama for two years and then married a girl (Poncha) from there. Those "y'all's" just roll off of his tongue.

Give it a try.

"Officially" Chesno

It’s official. Spring is here. It doesn’t feel like it too much and my land is soaked, but it is here . . . “officially” at least.

I don’t really like that whole “officially” thing. Either something is here or it isn’t. It is done or it isn’t. It is dead or it isn’t. What is the deal with someone being officially blind, but still able to drive a car? Do they need an “official driver’s license”? How come sports teams and Disney need to “officially” license their merchandise? Isn’t it good enough to license it? Doesn’t licensing something imply that it was done officially? Are there other levels of licensing such as:

1. Cheap, Asian-made (redundant, I know) bootlegged licensing.
2. NY street-corner American bootlegged licensing.
3. Corporate back-alley, non-official licensing.
4. Official licensing.

In any case, in Northern Utah, spring is officially here in the same sense that Brokeback Mountain was officially a box office success ($82M in 15 weeks ain't no success). I just don’t believe either . So, in the meantime, I have raspberries, blueberries, cranberries, boysenberries, gooseberries, currants, grapes, and more waiting inside by the window to go out, much like my dog when he thinks he sees the slightest movement outdoors.

So, last night I said, “The heck with it.” Well, not really. Who says that? I bought an indoor seed germinator and as a family we sat down to a fun night of planting gourds, white pumpkins, small pumpkins, butternut squash, acorn squash, sunflowers, cantaloupe, and cabbage. I guess you can say I “officially” planted my garden . . . indoors.

Chesno Nicknames

You got a nickname? I got like fiddy (50) of 'em. So does my friend Eric "Ponch" Buchanan. Of course Ponch is one of his and also the one used most. Otherwise we would be calling him Eric "ACE" Buchanan, and not Ace as in the "Ace of Base" or something. "Ace" as in A.C.E. as in I don't know. Often times in the closing credits of a movie you'll see a name Jauness Wagner, A.C.E. That kind of "ace". Ponch thought it was pretty cool, so he added it to his list of nicknames. Perhaps it means this.

One day we decided that single name "nicks" simply wouldn't suffice. Shortly thereafter we came up with full name nicknames where our original nicknames were lowered in status to nicknames of nicknames. From that day on we became:

Eric=Dabby Dean "Ponch" Burgoyne
I=Billy Dee "Domis" Lime

We came up with these names one day while sluffing school in Dabby Dean's (see how that works? We're still talking about Ponch, er, Eric), room after growing bored of playing NES.

Last November, A.C.E. and I were emailing back and forth and he was asking me about the new "town" I live in which can by no strech of the imagination (even while on drugs), be called a town. It isn't even really homes loosely grouped together--more of a peice of county land someone decided to give the awesome name of "College Ward". As our email chain continued, we decided that College Ward needed to be united and I would be the first mayor. Along with this came a new nickname which is more of a rip off than an homage to one of my favorite TV shows, Futurama.

So, even though the citizenry may not know it, those College Wardians are all secretly governed by Mayor Billy Dee Mechaleckahighmeckahineyho Poopenmeyer (yes, we also liked Pee Wee's blue-faced genie Jambi growing up as well).

Chesno Dyevochka

Yesterday Jenn, Turner, and I loaded up in the car on my lunch break and went to a ski lodge. Well, it looks like a ski lodge at least. It was really the fanciest OBGYN office I have ever been to (not that I've been to enough to make a coffee table book or anything). Imagine 20' ceilings with exposed beams. Rich leather couches and fire to ward off the cold, snowy Cache Valley weather. Yup, that's a ski lodge, but at this lodge there is no doubt, less hot chocolate and more prodding being done.

We were all there for the mid-gestation ultrasound. This is the one where we could find out the gender, see the heart beat, the brain, spinal chord, possible deformities, organs, and all. Turner was really looking forward to it. As a nearly-5-year-old boy he is really into guts, blood, bones, and how the body works. Jenn thinks he might be a doctor, I think he'll be a soldier like me. We both get to see all that.

But, in the words of my sister-in-law, I digress. This fancy ski lodge also had a fancy ultrasound machine. You could change over to hyperactive 3D mode. I believe this is the mode Tom Cruise most often uses when he is performing home-based ultrasounds on his knocked up, live in.

Anyway, in 3D you can get a look at the face of the baby and just about anything else. The face didn't quite look fully formed yet, so it's safe to say that as of right now, the new baby looks like me.

Turner had a good time but surprisingly, was more interested in the Dr. Suess book he picked up in lobby than in the brain and guts and . . . well, you get the picture. He still had a good time and liked what he saw. The most important thing was that the baby is healthy, on schedule (to be delivered on Turner's 5th birthday), and everything looked normal. Plus, we got to celebrate by going to a big Chinese food buffet. Nothing says, hooray for a new baby like all you can eat fried meat.

Oh, and by the way, dyevochka means we're having a new baby girl.

Chesno Weekend

I had an eventful weekend a couple days ago. I am in the Army National Guard and spent 2.5 days in drill with my fellow brothers-at-arms. A good amount of the time I spent in the snow out on firing ranges shooting and blowing things up with a 50 caliber machine gun and 40mm (m203) grenade launcher. It was literally a blast. Can't believe I got paid for that.

The really crazy stuff came about on Sunday when we were all briefed by the general. He confirmed that we are currently slotted for a deployment to Afghanistan this summer. I won't give all the details as most of it is still classified. However, it would be a training mission of the Afghan National Army where we would be split up into training groups to basically teach them to be soldiers. Only soldiers with sufficient rank will be allowed to go on this deployment and I am one they are interested in taking especially since I have experience in Iraq.

They can't take me though. At least not for longer than 9 months, then I would have to volunteer to extend for the full 14 months. You see, there is a rule that a reservist cannot be deployed longer than 24 out of 60 months. I have already been gone 15 of my current 60 month time period. That's why I could not be taken any more than 9 months unless I volunteered.

For a minute I considered volunteering--not without discussing it with my wife of course. It's funny. I've been home now nearly a year, but I have this itch that it's time to leave again. Plus, this sounds like a great mission. Also, I haven't seen Afghanistan yet.

While discussing it with my wife, I said, "Well, I guess me being home when the baby is born is more important than [some monetary gain we would get]."

Her response, "Do you want to say that again and this time leave out 'I guess'?"

Chesno Butt Rock

Back in the late '80s and early '90s my buddies (especially Eric "Ponch" Buchanan) and I were total Butt Rockers. We loved Poison, Winger, AC-DC and all the other "hair" bands whether technically Butt Rock or not.

Lately, I've begun a bit of a butt rock renaissance. I have begun creating entries to a fictional Butt Rock Hall of Fame and have been emailing them to Ponch on (nearly) a weekly basis. So far, Night Ranger, Skid Row, Poison, Damn Yankees and Winger have been honoured as inductees. I have plans in the future of welcoming Tesla, Nelson, Cinderella, Slaughter, Whitesnake, Scorpions, Motley Crue, and more to the Hall.

One day I plan to put all the inductees background info and some music and outrageous photos on a website named The BA Sprinkling System Butt Rock Hall of Fame. You see Ponch and I had a sprinkling system company in high school that was named after us Buchanan-Ashton or BA. BA also stood for other rockin' cool things. Naturally, BA Sprinklers would serve as the sponsors of the Hall of Fame much like the Delta Center or Air Canada Centre. On the website I envision a rippin' split bottom electric guitar serving as the ending "K" in "rock". Can't wait for how cool that will be.

Anyway, I came across this awesome picture of a rock formation in California. It has been named "Butt Rock". If I were a true stoner I would totally think that was much funnier than it really is, but in any case, it is pretty cool. Maybe I'll work it into the logo.

Chesno Cool

Evidently I have been living in a hole and everyone has seen this except for me, but it was too cool to not add here. If anyone has been living in an adjoining hole then check this out.

SkyTV (who I used to watch on a pirated satellite system in Iraq), from the UK has put this together for some crazy reason. Probably said why in the article, but all I saw was "Live Action Simpsons Video" and I stopped reading and started streaming.

Enjoy it here.

Chesno Trials

Yesterday I was sitting in my Sunday School class. The topic was Abraham and Isaac and the question was posed, "Are trials and tribulations in our lives self-inflicted or God-given."

I listened to a couple of people answer with their thoughts, but in the end I came to the conclusion that NO trials are self-inflicted. I believe they fall into other categories:

1) God-given
2) Acts of nature
3) Genetic

Period. Yes, period. At least until I can come up with another category.

1) Trials can clearly be given us from God (if you believe in Him that is). If you disagree, just ask Job. We can be given trials to test us and to make us stronger.

2) Sometimes we are just the victims of nature. I don't believe God sent hurricanes to punish the Gulf States or a tsunami to wipe our Sri Lankan, Indian, and other friends. I think he has set the Earth in rotation and from there nature takes over. Sure, He can control it when he wants, but I don't believe God worries himself with each drop of rain, or gust of wind that takes a shingle off your roof because you didn't pray that morning.

3) I don't believe that my son was given eczema because his mother or I weren't living properly. I have had shingles, as has my grandmother. I have another skin condition I don't even know the name of which is exhibited by inflamed pores. Even though I don't have eczema, it's not a stretch to believe maybe he got it genetically.

So, am I saying that everything is thrust upon us? Oh, no. Not at all. I just don't think we bring on trials in our lives, but consequences. This may be a fight in semantics, but I think it's an important one.

People chose to live below sea level in New Orleans. The consequence of that is possible flooding. I choose to live in a well watered valley bottom near a major fault line. The consequence of that could be one day an earthquake that sinks my house into 10 feet of mud. That's a consequence. I chose to live here and am fully aware of what may come of it.

So, are trials self-inflicted or God-given? They certainly can be God-given, or can come about by other means. However, if you want me to believe that what you're dealing with is a trial you brought on yourself, I don't. It's a consequence of your actions that you can change whether you are the sperm donor to an unwed teenage pregnant girl or a homeowner whose house slid off the hill in the last torrential rain storm.