6 posts tagged “flight school”
As of 11 April 2008, M is designated as a Naval Aviator and entitled to wear Wings of Gold. Wrapped up in that pin are years of hard work and dedication: long evenings of studying, simulator events hours before dawn, flights lasting late into the night, rough flights, instructors both excellent and aggravating, and flights that made him remember why he wanted to get into the flying business in the first place.
Flight school was an adventure, but we're excited to see what new, different frustrations and rewards life in the FRS and the fleet squadron thereafter will bring us. I bet it won't be dull, even if the gray fleet aircraft he'll be strapping into are rather drab compared to the bright, cheery orange-and-white trainers. I'll miss the Killer Clown Jet and the mighty Pegasus...
M will be studying away for an Instrument Navigation exam a while longer, so I have time to relax on the couch and tell you fascinating stories about what I had for dinner. Aren't you lucky?
Tangent: I love being able to sit on the couch and bum around on the Internet. We got our wireless router set up with a minimum of fuss and bother (in favorable contrast to the process of getting high-speed cable access, which was like pulling teeth if the dentist were to repeatedly put you on hold in the middle of the operation), so all of our beloved Internet-enabled devices--from desktops to laptops to the Wii and Nintendo DS--are once again humming right along and happily connected. As am I, by extension. Now, back to your regularly scheduled recipe.
Baked chicken is normally an almost thoughtlessly simple affair around our house: all we put on it is kosher salt, black pepper, garlic powder, and maybe some Italian herbs, then stick it in the oven 'til it's done. It has all the virtues of ease and homey satisfaction, and I thought about doing that with the (extremely inexpensive, thanks to finally living near a decent commissary) chicken thighs we had in the fridge. This afternoon, though, my brain started protesting "the usual," so I decided to take a little side trip and throw together a quick marinade. Just a little something different, nothing too complicated. This is what I came up with (all measurements are approximate, since I just kind of threw stuff in until it tasted all right:
Combine in a food processor:
- 1 clove garlic
- 1/2 cup soy sauce
- 1/2 cup peanut oil
- 3 Tbsp honey
- Juice of 1 lime
Pulse until well emulsified. Use right away or refrigerate.
I used about half of the marinade in a gallon zip-top bag for five chicken thighs. I let it marinade in the fridge for the duration of the afternoon, turning the bag over every hour or so to make sure all sides of the chicken were getting good contact.
Preheat oven to 350 degrees F.
Arrange chicken parts (carefully patted dry) skin side down in a baking dish. Season with kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper. If you like, add a slice of ginger or two on top of each piece before you stick it in the oven.
Bake for 20 minutes, then flip each piece over. Season the skin side with kosher salt and black pepper, then slide it back in and bake for another 20 or so minutes, or until your trusty instant-read thermometer says you're not going to become acquainted with one E. coli (they say he's quite cultured, but I don't think you'd get along well).
The results were rather attractively golden brown and pretty darned tasty, if I do say so myself. M says so himself, as well, so I'll call the recipe a keeper. Husbands with happy tastebuds are nice to have around, after all.
How far from your last home do you live? Why did you move and are you glad you did?
Submitted by Matthew 25.
The answer to this one is going to change when the Navy moves us in a few days, so I'll get it in now while the number is more impressive. Right after getting married, I moved 1,419 miles (as the crow flies) from my folks' home to the South Texas town where M was doing one of the phases of flight school. As of early next week, we'll be living in another South Texas town--about fifty miles from where we are now--while M does another phase of flight school. Like I said in response to a similar QotD a while back, we do (and will) live where we live because that's where the Navy told us to live.
As for whether I am glad I moved, of course I am. I can't imagine choosing to be separated when we know we're going to have to deal with that quite often enough over the years; after a good half-decade of long-distance dating, the notion of doing the geobachelor thing as newlyweds was singularly unappealing. This particular part of Texas may not have much to recommend it, but it has situated us such that we've been able to spend time with my mom's side of the family, an opportunity I've cherished.
Anything will start to seem routine if you hear about it enough. There are days that I forget that not everyone's husband goes to work in a flight suit, especially living around and socializing mostly with student naval aviators and their spouses. Every once in a while, though, there are days that remind me what a cool job my husband actually has. This past Wednesday was one of them.
M has been extremely busy lately preparing for carrier qualifications, often leaving early and coming back late, sweaty and exhausted from three "bounce periods" a day. The husband of one of my good friends is also getting ready for the upcoming CQ detachment, so Annie and I had been missing out on time with our men. When M mentioned something about a barbecue out at the auxiliary landing field where the CQers were bouncing, I mentioned it to Annie. After a little hemming and hawing over how we would probably be the only spouses to drive out to the middle of nowhere for a poorly publicized barbecue, we finally convinced each other that it might just be an adventure. And hey, it's not like we were doing anything else that day.
The drive turned out to be forty-five minutes of uninterrupted South Texas desolation, and upon our arrival, we learned that not only were we indeed the only wives who showed up, but a scheduling quirk meant that our husbands weren't even going to arrive for another hour. No one quite knew what to do with us, but we stuck around until the guys arrived by van. They weren't real sure what to do with us either, but we eventually snagged some tasty slow-cooked chicken and everyone's mood improved.
Getting to have lunch with the guys was all well and good, but Annie and I had an ulterior motive: we had never actually seen our husbands fly before, and we wanted to stick around long enough to see their bounce periods. We thought we would be able to watch from a distance, take pictures of all the planes, and maybe get a chance to ask later which ones were people we know. When we heard that we might have the chance to be able to watch from the LSO shack, though, the possibilities of this venture looked better and better.
We didn't get in touch with either of the LSOs for such a long time that we thought we were out of luck, but just before we were about to give up, "Demar" walked over and asked us if we'd like to come out. There was no hesitation in our "Yes, please!" We joined him on the ride out to the shack, where we met up with "RJ," the other LSO who would be waving our husbands' passes.
A quick note of explanation: A Landing Signal Officer, or LSO, is someone who controls aircraft as they approach and land on aircraft carriers. They are highly trained and can tell just by looking whether a pilot is on glideslope for a good trap, has too much or too little power, or whether they need to move right or left. LSOs grade each landing, as well. On an interesting note, the highest grade one can ever get is just "OK." Got it? All right, moving on...
My husband was in the first bounce group, and I was excited just to be so close to the action. I watched his first couple of passes from outside, and man, those jets are loud. We're talking chest-vibratingly, shack-shakingly loud. Annie and I were lucky that Demar had some extra sets of earplugs.
Well, I could write on and on, but every English teacher I ever had told me I should show, not tell. I don't think video is quite what they had in mind, but hey.
Having a spouse in the military brings its share of annoyances, certainly, but it also opens the door to getting to see and do some pretty cool things. How many other people get to see that kind of seriously cool aviation up close? I think I'm pretty lucky.
I have it on good authority that this makes it look significantly more exciting than it actually was. :-)
