There is a rule, unwritten, but nevertheless a rule, that when you see another military family moving in, you introduce yourself. We were among the first to move in, but not the first. So, the major and his wife introduced themselves, and invited us for coffee. Then the sergeant and his wife moved in, and we introduced ourselves, and invited them for coffee. And that's the way it went.
Generally speaking, the officers and enlisted don't socialize, but in our small community that custom went by the boards. When someone barbecued, everyone barbecued. The wives got together and talked about stuff that wives talk about. The sergeant and wife had one child, a beautiful little girl, and before we left the area, she was pregnant again, as it turned out, with a boy. The major and his wife had no children, and as far as I know, never did.
We played cards as couples, the men exchanged military gossip (nothing classified, of course). And we were a community. There was a small store maybe a couple miles away, toward the base, where we could run in and get milk or bread, or whatever we needed in an emergency. Usually, there was at least one car available for quick trips or emergencies. The big shopping was done, of course, at the base commissary. Stuff was a lot cheaper there.
Laundry was somewhat of a problem. There was no on-site laundromat, and there was hardly room in the houses for washers and dryers, and certainly no hook-ups for dryers. So, we did a lot of hand laundry. The owner of the property strung up some clotheslines for us. What a change for me! I never handwashed anything except hosiery or maybe a silk blouse. It was a learning time for me.
I mentioned in an earlier diary that the acreage was eventually to be developed into an orchard. The owner had already planted some trees toward the front of the property. Since farmers couldn't depend on rain, the owner---oh, shoot, let's talk about him and give him a name.
Dr. B was originally from Iran. He called it Persia. He was a medical doctor and a mystic. He said he remembered past lives, and that he was once a priest in Babylonia. I had never heard of such things before--past lives, and such--so he fascinated me with his tales. I took them with a rather large portion of salt, but I enjoyed his tales. He was quite a wealthy man, and had given up active medical practice.
Anyway, back to the orchard. Dr. B had dug reservoirs around each tree, and connecting ditches between each tree. He fed the water from a hose connected to a spigot out in the yard. One of the neighbors had a collie-type dog that loved to play in the water, and he'd bite at the water as it was flowing along the ditches to the reservoirs. Very funny to watch. There was another dog, a black mutt, that liked to play in the water, too, so they made a game of it. However, the collie had a mischevous streak in him. He'd let the smaller dog get just a little bit ahead, then he'd land broadside in the reservoir and splash the smaller dog. I'd swear, he would prance away with a big grin on his face. The mutt never did catch on and the game was played almost daily.
Well, that's it for today. Tomorrow...the sandstorm.
Shalom.