eh…
I suppose I should share some knitting photos. It has been quite a while, hasn’t it? Thing is, I don’t feel like taking pictures of WIPs right now. Maybe tomorrow or the next day I’ll come through for ya with some photos of the DB jacket progress.
Today is for planting annuals in pots around the deck, and for starting the 910-page copyediting project that’s sitting on my desk (on the history of porn. This should be amusing. Or maybe depressing. Or maybe a little of both. We’ll see how the author approaches it.) And today is also for writing. All other activity will stop at two pm, cause it’ll be writing time. Yes, I’m enjoying my summer break very much so far, thanks.
I’ll leave you with this, a little tidbit from my darling brother. The two or three of you who’ve been reading this silly little blog since I started it know that my brother is a sergeant in the Marine Reserves, and that he was in Iraq last year. You also know that he came home safe and sound last summer. Well, I saw him on Wednesday and he told me a little something about his time in Iraq that amused me to no end. It also goes a long way toward showing how cool my brother is, and how he isn’t even a little bit caught up in the macho Marine thing.
Okay, okay, enough buildup. Well, for most of their time in Iraq, his squad (He’s a squad leader) would sing “War Pigs” by Sabbath to get themselves worked up before they went out on patrol. Makes sense, yes? Toward the end of their tour, they started singing along to something else instead. Singing and clapping. To what? To Journey. Yes, there was a squad of Marines–in fact one of the most respected squads in country from what I hear (conflicting, to oppose the war but to still be proud to hear from others that my brother is this incredible combat leader)–clapping and singing along to Journey. I asked him what song and he said, “Anything. Anything by Journey would work.”
Isn’t that sweet? I mean…weird, but sweet.
Stadium rock in the desert. With machine guns and grenade launchers, yes. But stadium rock, no less.
OK, I know it was probably “Don’t Stop Believin'” and “Any Way You Want It,” but in my version of the Marine Journey Singalong, burly uniformed men and woman are belting out “Oh, Sherrie.” (Once more. With feeling.)
Posted by: alison
Nah. “Open Arms.” (Although I guess that one’s not much for the clapping.)
That is. That is an awesome story, and your brother is awesome, and I’m VERY glad he’s not there anymore.
I used to play “Open Arms” on the piano. I have no right to poke fun at anyone.
Posted by: Em
“Separate Ways” was the first thing that came into my head. And now it won’t get out.
My brother was in Iraq the first go-round. Ask your brother about the scorpion games. And fake-beer blindness.
Posted by: Iris
Can you see me holding my lighter up in the air?
Posted by: Rachael
Or “Faithfully.” Maybe not for the tempo, but for the sentiment.
Posted by: Mindy
OK, I know it was probably “Don’t Stop Believin'” and “Any Way You Want It,” but in my version of the Marine Journey Singalong, burly uniformed men and woman are belting out “Oh, Sherrie.” (Once more. With feeling.)
Posted by: alison
Nah. “Open Arms.” (Although I guess that one’s not much for the clapping.)
That is. That is an awesome story, and your brother is awesome, and I’m VERY glad he’s not there anymore.
I used to play “Open Arms” on the piano. I have no right to poke fun at anyone.
Posted by: Em
“Separate Ways” was the first thing that came into my head. And now it won’t get out.
My brother was in Iraq the first go-round. Ask your brother about the scorpion games. And fake-beer blindness.
Posted by: Iris
Can you see me holding my lighter up in the air?
Posted by: Rachael
Or “Faithfully.” Maybe not for the tempo, but for the sentiment.
Posted by: Mindy