When does one month feel like one year?
It's not a trick question.
When a year's events happen in one month, it's one hell of a month.
June 26th: leasve work, head for Gettysburg for "At High Tide" reenactment with Andrew, Tim, Craig, et al (about 1,500 others).
June 27th-29th - have a blast at the 'Burg, despite:
1. cat-hair filled wool blankets that make me break out in hives despite medication;
2. enough ticks that it was a wonder we weren't all drained to empty husks;
3. two storms, one which tried to blow the camp away, one that forced us to abort a battle because nobody likes being in a thunderstorm with a 6' steel gun on his shoulder;
4. Knee-deep poision ivy;
5. Can't wear modern glasses, don't have period glasses... blind as a cave fish all weekend;
6. Doing paperwork so people can eat...for units whose men can't handle basic math. Erg.
Late evening, June 29- get out of event, turn cell phone back on, "you've got mail": Grandma is dying, come home quick! Date of message: June 27th. !$%#@
June 30: Fly to MA early in the morning; spend a day with Grandma in hospital; fly home. Cry a lot.
July 1-3: Mope. Work. Sad.
July 4: Work, then spend a fun evening with Andrew, Jen and his Dad; grill & small-scale fireworks. Manage to have fun. Get phone call just before Midnight - Grandma died right after the 1812 Overture by the Pops, one of her favorite things to witness each year. Sad again.
July 7: Get new apartment in Easton, MD. Gonna be living with Matt, an old friend from the 'Burg. Moving date: July 26.
July 8-10: Fly to MA , wake, funeral, fly back to MD. Sad.
July 10, evening: Get really sick.
July 11: Astonishingly sick for most of day. Notice funny red bulls-eye on leg. Go to Doc. Doc says: Lyme's disease! A gift from the Gettysburg ticks.
Antibiotics.
July 12-21: Recover from Lyme's.
July 18th: Offered promotion at MSC. Wow. Taken.
July 20: Move Matt into Easton place.
This weekend: Move self into Easton.
And that's just what happened to ME. Nearly every friend I've got near here is having a year to remember; not usually for good reasons (I've been to three funerals, including Grandma's).
May you live in interesting times, indeed.
When a year's events happen in one month, it's one hell of a month.
June 26th: leasve work, head for Gettysburg for "At High Tide" reenactment with Andrew, Tim, Craig, et al (about 1,500 others).
June 27th-29th - have a blast at the 'Burg, despite:
1. cat-hair filled wool blankets that make me break out in hives despite medication;
2. enough ticks that it was a wonder we weren't all drained to empty husks;
3. two storms, one which tried to blow the camp away, one that forced us to abort a battle because nobody likes being in a thunderstorm with a 6' steel gun on his shoulder;
4. Knee-deep poision ivy;
5. Can't wear modern glasses, don't have period glasses... blind as a cave fish all weekend;
6. Doing paperwork so people can eat...for units whose men can't handle basic math. Erg.
Late evening, June 29- get out of event, turn cell phone back on, "you've got mail": Grandma is dying, come home quick! Date of message: June 27th. !$%#@
June 30: Fly to MA early in the morning; spend a day with Grandma in hospital; fly home. Cry a lot.
July 1-3: Mope. Work. Sad.
July 4: Work, then spend a fun evening with Andrew, Jen and his Dad; grill & small-scale fireworks. Manage to have fun. Get phone call just before Midnight - Grandma died right after the 1812 Overture by the Pops, one of her favorite things to witness each year. Sad again.
July 7: Get new apartment in Easton, MD. Gonna be living with Matt, an old friend from the 'Burg. Moving date: July 26.
July 8-10: Fly to MA , wake, funeral, fly back to MD. Sad.
July 10, evening: Get really sick.
July 11: Astonishingly sick for most of day. Notice funny red bulls-eye on leg. Go to Doc. Doc says: Lyme's disease! A gift from the Gettysburg ticks.
Antibiotics.
July 12-21: Recover from Lyme's.
July 18th: Offered promotion at MSC. Wow. Taken.
July 20: Move Matt into Easton place.
This weekend: Move self into Easton.
And that's just what happened to ME. Nearly every friend I've got near here is having a year to remember; not usually for good reasons (I've been to three funerals, including Grandma's).
May you live in interesting times, indeed.