Boost your moral- grow a mustache.

Brandon called this morning. Already I can't wait for him to call again. I was so sleepy but we laughed and laughed (okay maybe lack of sleep had a LITTLE bit to do with it) that and he is seriously thinking of coming home with a full mustache.

"But I thought you liked facial hair!?" he cried
I do, but mustaches have been kr33ping me out lately. It's not even that their formidable rise to popularity has been kinda irksome, just the people I associate with who have them that I can't stand at all.

He said he'll pray about it, but the general consensus among his ranks is that he should keep it.

I told him I'll pray about it and I'LL decide if my eyeballs like it enough so that my face-mouth will like it too.

He says He'll groom the thing.
blehgh!


I'm thinking chuck norris with a beautiful mcdonald's archway over his forehead
and then I think about how I'm just looking out for his well being- his fashion's well being. Right now it's probably not "being" much...

I can't be sure if I would help him by telling him to get rid of the thing, since it seems to be boosting moral.

That and this substance.

Chocolate.

"Jacqueline,
I
AM
ADDICTED
TO
CHOCOLATE."

oh Brandon. I am so glad you signed us up for dental insurance before you left.

We ARE selling your contract to the air force as soon as possibly otherwise you may have dentures before you are thirty.

So, I need to send a sling shot (because apparently men running from dogs holding machine guns is unmanly- and men running from dogs with machine guns AND sling shots IS MANLY!)

more hot cocoa.
anything chocolate.
pancake mix.

and more love than I can fit in a box
because I can't fit myself in those flat rate boxes.

even with spin classes.




[jesus=#1 in our hearts]
love,
j

Bravo

God bless Bravo Company 4th LAR in Afghanistan.

Please keep the rest of them safe, and please bless the family of the man who died yesterday by the hand of a suicide bomber.


Bless the five men surrounding him who took impact from the blow,

And please bless that their sister company Charlie can find the men who organized it.

Pray for the military. Please.

j

a few things you need to know

Mrs Cochran

A few things you need to know:

1. You are the love of my life. You are more than anything I ever imagined I would have for a wife.

2. I thank God sincerely night and day for answering the prayer that sent you into my life.

3. No matter how cold or dark the night is you warm my heart and bring a smile to my face.

4. I hope and pray every day that I can give you the life you want and fill it with laughter, adventure, and farm animals.

5. You are my best friend, even though I CRUSH you in candyland and pillow fights and eating ice cream.

6. Can we have kids yet?

7. You will always be the most beautiful woman in the COSMOS.

Simply... I luf you!

<3>

Oh pea um

Would someone please classify the era of art that this belongs to?

Thank you,
J

July 1 2009 With deepest sympathy

At three oh clock today
I finally got out of bed.
The night was a long one the room I slept in overrun by new nieces
sleeping all over the bed, in a crib and on the couch.
After two sets of earplugs,
six hours of tossing and turning
moving addi from the couch to the bed and myself waking with every noise the baby made
I marched downstairs,
knocked on brandon's door
and said
it's your turn.

This morning he asked me if I still wanted kids.

I asked him to marry me
he said yes
and so I asked him when he was going to ask me
since I ask him every day.

Today.

I stepped out of the shower and threw on some underwear
feeling good about my finally
not so albino skin
I threw open the bathroom door
and glanced around my room.
(I would say I threw my eyes around the room but I am beginning to think I throw too many things.)

Stuff everywhere.
Except something was different from when I got in the shower.
On my bed near the left edge facing towards me
is the most beautiful rose I have ever seen.
Next to the rose
are the words
typed from
an old type
righter

Sundance ski lift 6PM
See you at the top.
Love,
Brandon

I turn over the card and a pink ticket for the sundance lift falls to the floor.
I glance on the other side of the card
for more clues

and read the words
"With deepest sympathy"
Orem Floral & Gift


I'm not sure
whether to laugh or cry
so I do both.

I get to be with you forever.

Wherever you go
I go too.

and so I am lucky
and I guess you should know
that

I
love
you.

Will you marry me tomorrow and the next day and the day after that?

With deep sympathy,
Jacqueline J Francis (tentatively in the most assured manner) Cochran

August 9th 2009

Already the drawers next to our bed in the guesthouse are beginning to mirror yours in sundance.
It seems the term night-stand applies
more liberally as "day"-night-stand.
Why do they even call it a stand?
It does nothing of the sort
but instead,
is the perfect image of stillness.
I've decided then
to call it a day-sit
from this time forward
from this time still stagnant
forever.
I'm glad I've married a stand
er.
Someone who wants to go somewhere
and I never fear
Rolling over in bed
my love silent beside me
and kissing the night stand.
I mean the day sit.
No
you are alive and not
content to sit
still.
And allow the papers
the leafs of my life
to lie
in your
quiet
wooden
arms.
No.
you are the words
you are the movement
the moment
my soul sits upon
lips
you read out to me
and in those endless eyes
I live.

All you need

Just a preface, I got a really really sweet comment on this blog from one of brandon's good friends and I just felt like I should post the rest of our story- the in betweens and a lot of blogs from my personal blog that I've kept (entries from when I first met brandon etc) It's a lot to read but I want it included in this. Thank you for reading, it makes me feel so loved to know that other people feel this kind of love, and want to know about it.

The old, knew.

Watching
you walk down
the stares with your eyes up on mine
could have been the perfect ending to an evening
until you, slipping down the last three-
lay there looking up at me
into the deep darkening blue
and spoke these words
"Jacqueline,
I think
I've fallen
for you."

Love is no big truth

The answer

The trays go round
the room and
with the exception
of a baby's cry
and the usual
shuffle of comfort
or lack thereof
it is silent.
In the midst of
all this
my mind catches a
muffled
question.
the small girl
in front of me,
slipping on her
dress in earnest
replies

"Because I love you"

I soon realize this
reason is the
answer to
everything
in my
heart.

She said

Today my wonderful sweet fabulous fantastic supercalifragilisticexpealidocious etc. relief society (emphasis on relief) said this in comment to something I said in church
she said

"My mother never read 'they lived happily ever after' instead, she changed the words to 'And they worked very hard to love each other every day'."

I love that.

It is so true. Growing up, my concept of love and temple marriage was celestial. That doesn't mean that marriage isn't all its cut out to be - for realz people its the greatest in the whole wide earth. It just means that it isn't perfect, and that if we work together as a team and turn our hearts to God and the gospel and to others that we make it alright.

My husband is the dreamiest, most wonderful kind hearted, sacrificing, fun, and aggravatingly patient person. I'm glad we have our differences, it opens my eyes to so much more.

It makes me know that we are ALWAYS a team, and we are ALWAYS worth any struggle. The convenants and promises we've made mean that together- we can become perfect. Well, in our eyes at least.

But the hard work comes first.

I can't wait.

Love cracks your heart open, spreads it really wide until you think your body is going to split into a million tiny pieces and then- miraculously it heals.

So next time, you can hold it all.

They're here, they're gonna be big.

yes, those are CROISSANTS

What you smell like

Somehow we always end up on the floor, tangled in blankets, and each other's arms.

Your hair is messy.

I shaved my head, but if I didn't it would be messy too.

In this comfortable contortion you ask 'what do I smell like?'

For an instant my man nature takes over and I almost say 'Chicken,......'because that's what we had for dinner.

But your eyes tell me you want something poetic, a simile, some synesthesia or sonnet telling you

That

You smell like the moment rain first begins to fall.

Off beat

as it decorates the sidewalk with

polka dots.

OR

The last day of school

OR

When from your backyard you hear the faint familiar jingle of the ice cream truck,

not sure if it's coming or going you panic

realizing you're a dime short to get the popsicle

shaped like a shark

But remembering your friend owes you, you take off running down the side walk barefoot

carefully

because it's hot

hoping he's heard the truck too.

My mind races to find something creative, something so amazing that even after I leave she'll muse over the beauty of that metaphor for days. I could see her in my mind at the flower shop she works at, telling her co-workers while she blankly re-arranges a perfect bouquet of roses 'He said I smell like...." And she'd sigh, and all the girls in the flower shop would sigh and say something about how she's so lucky and how their husbands used to be like that, and how they're not and how they wish they were.

But all that came out was 'Fall leaves'

"You smell like fall leaves"

By the expression on her face I might as well have said deranged, miscolored, rotting foliage.

"You smell like deranged, miscolored, rotting foliage."

I sink back into the pile of human and fabric

defeated.

But the truth is

you did kinda smell

like

chicken,

a little fowl.

-BLC

Hi Honey!

(this is from brandon to me.) I am not including the whole letter but just enough.

I just got off the phone with you. Your voice brings peace to my heart. All of the stress, frustration, and fear that weighs on my shoulders leaves when I hear you say you love me.
I love you forever.
I always feel like it's the last day of school in the 3rd grade when I think you are my wife!
I am so grateful we are married. Today a marine came to me in tears telling me his fiancee said she just can't wait for him. I don't know what I would do if I was in his shoes and you were the girl who could not wait for me.
What do you think would have happened if we wouldn't have married?Do you think you could have waited? (YES YES YES YES YES- j.) I am so glad we did though.
People talk about how much money they are going to have when they get home and what they'll buy and do. They ask me and I say Ill have ________ dollars and the most beautiful wife in the whole world. As long as I have you when I get home that is all I'll need, and want...

I've lost the nick name "golden boy" because I no longer feel as I once did about the corps. I view the high ranks with impudence. I am tired of their supercilious aura. I am tired of being a peon, obeying orders that they would not carry out themselves.
A spirit of rebellion has entered our ranks, marines refusing to obey, marines on the verge of snapping from the injustices heaped upon us. I pray, and pray, and pray. I endure. I lean upon Christ, He carries me day to day. They cannot break me, I have filled my heart and mind with love. I refuse to let hate fill me. I will not succumb. Pray for me my love, and I will pray for me. Go to the temple for me. I really believe I will come home a better man. I will for you. The mind is mine and I give it to you. pure. love b.DO NOT ENTER ---->MARINE CORPS.

Dear Brandon

okay, it's about time again (I keep sending letters to brandon but I seal them before I type them up (doiiiiighhh_dumb) ) so here is one finally- don't think I'm being cruel and never writing back to all these amazing letters blc writes (although I readily admit that his are so much more beautiful than mine) (maybe I just have to think that god's earth is greener beneath his feet because I love him like whoah but srsly) BUT I AM. proof:

[romantic, uplifting side]
Brandon,
Sometimes before I fall asleep at night your face appears in my mind and I am filled with the undescribable accumulation of all the thoughts I have to tell you throughout the day. These things begin penning themselves in a letter that only my dreams see- and when I wake up, the words fail and are replaced with a feeling that is a day old, and must develop again, anew.

If I could try to tell you what that feeling is it would take many words and I am sure a lifetime of love and adventures. But I can still try.

So that even with you on the other side of the world, you know that it is like

the idea of you entering a room, sends shivers into my heart and makes it wider, smile , and sometimes do spastic dances. It's the deep deep sweet.
It's the feeling of flight, the freedom to fall.
It's knowing nothing, but expecting hope and goodness.
It's the last bite of ice cream on the lid.

It's the stranger who stops to ask if you are okay.
It's your first valentine from someone who isn't your best friend, and then your first valentine from someone who is.

It's the honest nobility of a spare kindness, or care.
It's knowing you're here, even if you're there.

It's the sound of the ice cream truck.

It's the climb and the summit.
It's the motivation, the memory, the melody.

It's the word,
that endless word
it bends and beckons,
it reasons and expands simple views
into nature

in every grandeur
in every time.

It's like this
only a small increment
of the un- expressible
miracle of you.
and me.

[silly and slightly weird side...]

Some thoughtsicles:
I hope you didn't call me
today my phone is le dead.

We had sunday dinner at the cabin last night.
It's snowing again.
Today, I bundled the children into three layers each and drug (!?!) DRAGGED them (well, they sorta dragged me) out into the yard to make their first snowman,
the attempt (somewhat sullied by Boo's pee and poo ridden snow in the yard)
looks like this
pickles for eyes, carrot (classic) knows, herb branch for the smile, poop...

CUTE HUH
We had to do some reconstructive surgery to his/her face but he/she is happy near the back garden (this is an exact replica of the snowman, but may not be to size)

xoxoxoxoppooopxoxoxoxoxo

ps. the lump in my breast is hopefully a benign cyst or an infection, LOVE YOU!

love,
Wyfuh (like wifii internet but EVERYWHERE)

Missing peace

SS counterfeit

I got an email today saying that if I get a phone call saying that my husband has been hurt in afghanistan and to disclose my social security number and his that it's a scam.

The government always sends someone to the house to tell you in person.

Honestly, how awful is that?

What kind of person would do something like that?

Shame on you.

Invictus

Out of the night that covers me,

Black as the Pit from pole to pole

I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.

In the fell clutch of circumstance,

I have not winced nor cried aloud.

Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.

Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the Horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years

Finds, and shall find, me unafraid.

It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll.

I am the master of my fate:

I am the captain of my soul.

-William Ernest Henley

i'm a cancer

this is a strawberry crab.

reap what you sew

Brandon called me last night to tell me that god hears our prayers. It's funny that I needed someone 5,000 miles away to call me and tell me that. Like God is lifetimes away and still right here. All the time.

I know it's selfish, but mostly I just pray for brandon's safety- and the safety of his men that he is with. My heart is filled with gratitude every night for his life in mine, it is overwhelming.

And the moment I think that my heart can't find any more space to be filled in, I remember that my love for him is just a portion of God's love for me, and for you and for everyone on this earth.

Brandon's purpose in calling was to tell me before I heard through the grapevine and worried my guts out
that some men were trying to plant an IED (a bomb) on the road they take everyday out of their camp in the Helmand Province of Afghanistan,

but the bomb blew up before they could plant it.

Brandon was sent out to the wreck to take pictures of the bodies and document the incident.

He said that war is so much more fake than movies.

You've been de-sensetised by the guts and gore of the media.

I don't want to say I hope so, but I do hope he's right.

He told me the Village Elder couldn't look them in the eyes when they went to question if he knew about the men's intentions.

Brandon says he doesn't blame him, because he knows the Taliban comes to the Elder's house too- he knows that they threaten to kill his family. They know that the Americans come to his house as well.

What a tough spot to be in. I know now, that I need to not just pray for Brandon and his men, but for the people of afghanistan- so that their hearts will know what is right. So they will know that if they don't help us, like we are helping them- that the violence will continue. That the Taliban won't stop at just killing the families. They'll do whatever it takes. Even risk their own lives to kill us, the afghani people and whoever else opposes them.

When I say us, I mean the men and women who are out there fighting right now.

So that we can get in our cars, and go to the grocery store. So that our children can play in the streets. So that our homes are safe from people who could come into them and threaten our lives, our families. Here.

Brandon said he was praying two hours before the bomb was heard going off. He said this:

"Heavenly father, please soften the taliban's hearts, so that I can go home and be with my wife. But if they won't soften their hearts, please help them reap what they sew."

God hears our prayers.

hi coo haiku

A mouse caught falling
Gleefully in mid air in-
To a garbage can.
-blc


I stand in dark places
looking for darker things
through the brush I see their faces
Into them my bullet rings.
-blc

spelling test

Brandon called this morning and asked for shrimp cup of noodles, chicken top ramen, teeth whitening strips, gel, and tuna prepackaged-ready-to-eat, SWISS MISS hot chocolate, and a "smorgusborgue" of oatmeal.

I told him I'll send it as soon as he starts addressing his letters with my name spelled correctly.

love,
j

joyeux

you are the greatest husband in the whole wide world and also in outer space if we ever decide to go there.

my wrist smells like maple sugar, is it okay to want to eat it?

its my left one...

well, i love you. happy new year sugarpiedumplingbunchahotrooskie.