First page of the Maine archive.

gettsyburg.

Posted by jessica on Jan 9, 2010 with 12 Comments
in Uncategorized
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It’s the way you can touch it too.
Just like they did, all those years ago.
It’s the way the cannons are still there.

All in a row.

And sorry, but I sat on one.
It’s the way the monuments are new but they mean something old.
Something timeless and about honor.

They’re busy letting us know about those brave hearts that counted a cause more worthwhile than simply making sure their own brave hearts kept beating.

And then there’s Devil’s Den and the way you can wedge yourself in, crowd the rocks with your body.
And you can’t help wonder what they were thinking all those years ago, listening to the boom and crash of the cannon balls falling in places they could only hope wouldn’t be here.

And then you do something so un-Civil War like that it borders on ridiculous.

But you make sure your parents capture it because they are your photojournalists today, after all.
And then your pop does something even more ridiculous, if you can believe it.

And the crazy continues.

That is, until you look up at Little Round Top.

And you remember General Joshua Lawrence Chamberlain and how he was a professor of Rhetoric, something that you’re sure has everything to do with the way you say things and nothing to do with battles and the business of winning one.

But win one he did.

Right down that hill, out of ammunition and out of just about everything except heart.

So he yelled for the men to fix their bayonets and charge those Alabamians, surprising them into a surrender that could have been avoided had they simply fired their weapons into the oncoming men of Maine.

Sometimes you just have to run at life. And if you’re out of whatever it is you thought was absolutely essential to winning at the moment, you make do with something else. You remember you’re good at saying things and you remember that’s not all you’re good at. You’re good at your job too, which happens to be  to hold the extreme flank of the line and so you do. You make sure it happens. You just do.

General Chamberlain has always been my favorite.

Just like how this sunset lingers over Pickett’s Charge.

Another one of my favorites.

this one’s for you, babe

Posted by jessica on Sep 18, 2009 with No Comments
in Funny Stuff, Loved Ones, Thoughts and Feelings
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I’ve got this husband.

And when I got him, I also got a lot more musical instruments just strewn about.
Which is fine with me, by the way.
And our feet all seem to get along, which is a bonus.
They even get along with paws.
One of our favorite things to do is to write music together.
And then play it for other people.
I’m good at coming up with songs; he’s good at making my songs better.
He’s good at putting chords together I would never think of; I’m good at throwing words on top of those chords, strung together by a melody.
And something else we’ve made, too–a solution, of sorts.
One we came up with a long time ago.
It’s necessary when you combine someone like me, whose inner monologue jumps ahead to any potential dialogue, trying desperately to avoid anything that could possibly make myself or anybody else feel awkward with someone like him, who loves, laughs, and speaks freely.
So.
If one or the other of us does not like what the other is doing or saying, we pinch their elbow. Discreetly.
Like a ninja.
Only we can wear normal clothes.
And leave the throwing stars at home.
Now I just came across a picture I had made sure to get but then promptly forgotten about. The picture is funny because Drew happens to think the phrase is pretty darn funny. And yes, uses it from time to time.
So here you go, Drew; this is for you.
And look, I am not even pinching your elbow.
But I am wondering if you’ve ever been to Maine with a can of pink spray paint in hand.