Wednesday, February 8, 2012

Year Two

Posted by: Blue

Today is the first day of my second year as a cop.

My wife gave me a book for my hiring anniversary/Valentine's Day.  Glock: The Rise of America's Gun, by Paul M. Barrett. 

My service pistol is a Glock Model 22.

She gets me.  I love her (my wife... not my gun...).

One Year

Today marks the one year anniversary of Blue starting academy and becoming a police officer. My how time flies!

So much has changed in the past year.

Blue is happier. He comes home smiling. Tired, but smiling. Even when he's had a bad day and an IPDA has peed in the back of the cruiser, or an uncooperative woman won't give him her DOB...he's still happy.

Blue is excited. As it gets closer and closer to the start of a new set of shifts you can see him change gears. He looks forward to going into work, to seeing his friends, and to what new sorts of calls will come in.

I'm more independent! I'm excited about this one. I used to rely very heavily on Blue and him being around and doing things for me. I would hate when he would come home from work and then turn right around and go out with friends or do a side job. Now? Not a big deal. This career change has forced me to think for myself, rely on my own abilities. It's helped me realize that I'm much stronger than I had thought.

We are more connected as a couple. With Blue getting 4, 5, or 6 days off in between his shifts we've been able to relax more together. He helps out around the house and actually has the energy to get things done or spend time with the kids.

I honestly didn't think that this transition into being a cop's wife would be as easy as it has been. Maybe we're just cut-out for this life? It kinda feels like it. I've loved this past year. I've loved everything about Blue becoming a police officer.

So, here's to our first year as a police family!
Congrats Blue.

Monday, February 6, 2012

The Blackness

Posted by: Blue

I washed my search gloves today in the laundry sink.

Either the dye started coming out of the leather, or the blackness of a criminal's soul rubs off a little time every time you touch them and gets caught in the web of Spectra Knit Lining...

Cheque's in the Mail

Posted by: Blue

A friend of mine and her pal found a Ziploc bag full of money on the sidewalk on a busy street corner on Halloween 2011.  She turned it in to the police station.

I told a number of people her story.  Their responses were generally puzzled and sometimes even indignant that she hadn't pocketed the dough.

Yesterday she told me that the time limit had expired for the person who lost it to claim it.

She and her friend will be splitting the $5000.00 cheque that the Service is mailing to her 50/50.

Guess it's not so crazy to do the right thing.

Thursday, February 2, 2012

Dad, Meet Your Daughter's Boyfriend...

Posted by: Blue

Last night we raced to a Residential Break and Enter in progress called in by a neighbour.

We got to the house and there was a pair of shoes, a sweater, and an mp3 player sitting in the snow beneath one of the bungalow's windows.

It didn't look like a B&E.  There was no sign of forced entry, and the window was closed again.  It looked like a teenager sneaking home after being out past curfew.

We knocked.  A groggy male in his mid-forties came to the door.  We explained.  He had a puzzled look on his face.

"That's my daughter's room..."

The shoes were men's skaters.

"I see..."

A fifteen year old girl peeked around the corner of the hallway at us.

A long, awkward pause...

"Ok. Bring him out here.  We need to talk to him."

She shook her head and hid her face with her hands.

"Not asking.  Telling."

She didn't move.  We walked into the room.  There was no one there.  Then I noticed a sock poking out from under the bed... and it appeared to have a foot in it.

"Come out before I come in after you."

The bed started shaking and moving as the lanky teenager tried to clamber out from under the bed.  I had to lift the frame because he was stuck.

We marched him out the door.

"Have you met dad?"


"Meet dad."



We took him home to his mom.  He had been drinking but wasn't drunk.

"Here's the deal.  I won't give you the $700 tag for drinking under age if you man up and introduce yourself to dad properly."


"I'm gonna phone him and make sure."



"That's gonna be awkward."

Yes it is.