Wednesday, September 23, 2009
Dear Unknown Soldier,
Today is the day that I promised to write to you and I hope I have time to do it! We have company. I can't write right now as that would be rude to my company. It's my Mother in law. She is 87 years old and still driving. I went shopping earlier and got 4 bottles of wine, 2 for cooking and two for drinking, mushrooms, spaghetti sauce, ground round. Fresh Michigan Peaches, lettuce and spinach and everything else my husband needs to make spaghetti, salad and I also got a baguette. He just got home from work and has started cooking. I ran up here to print a story I am working on for ML to read. I made peach tarts and peach sauce for ice-cream for dessert.
So Hello again. How are you? I hope you are well and healthy and safe. I want to thank you again for the good work you are doing for our people. THANK YOU.
I know you can't write about what you are doing and I know you can't always write at all, but it's sort of hard to carry on a conversation when it is all one-sided. I feel a little clumsy about this. I don't know what else to do but to tell you about myself, which seems rather self-centered, but I can't talk about YOU.
It is 8:08 PM, and dark. I am walking alone through Detroit on a street named Canyon. Detroit has the highest crime rate in the nation. It makes me just a little nervous to walk alone at night, though I have encountered no personal difficulties yet, thank goodness.
I am carrying a backpack that is so heavy it hurts my shoulder. It is full of books, manuscripts and light bulbs. The light bulbs, of course, are not heavy, but the books and manuscripts are. I am taking the to the retreat house where I hope to get some work done on my children's novels before I'm too tired to work any more.
The air is warm, slightly damp and humid, and full of cricket song. I am writing on a small computer. I am wearing a headlamp with red gel to help prevent my eyes from dedark adapting. Of course, there are lights here and there, but I am walking along Balduck Park, which stretches many long blocks and is very dark and some of the few lights that are here are out.
I am walking through a dark tunnel now formed by overhanging trees and grapevines. There are dead birds here. Mostly starlings. I don't know why they are dead. I hear the sound of running water, a fountain in someone's yard nearby.
There is a little nearly new moon covered by a haze of cloud. I wonder what the weather is like where you are. Can you talk about that? If so, is it hot? Dry, humid? What sounds do you hear?
I am writing a children's book about a military academy that has a children's camp in the summer, for "cadets" (young kids.) They are too young to use guns yet (eleven) but they have marching and leadership training. I am not really sure what leadership training for eleven years olds would be like, though. I prefer to write about stuff I KNOW about, and I know NOTHING about this. But my protagonist ended up here. Her parents thought it might teach her some discipline.
That's probably something you can't talk about, either. Well, if you do know anything and would like to talk to me about it, it would be a big help to me, but it you don't or can't or don't have time to even write, that's OK too.
It is sort of hard to write on the computer and walk in the dark at the same time, but if I don't do this, I will be unable to keep my commitment to you, since I was busy all day today and will be busy again tomorrow.
There are a few stars visible through the hazy clouds. I'm getting very warm from hiking with this pack. You probably carry one much heavier. I have before, though probably not as heavy as yours. I once walked the Northville Placid trail in New York through the heart of the Adirondack Mountains and my pack when I started weighed more than eighty pounds. And I'd gone ahead and made several food drops, so I didn't have as much to carry as I might have. I did alone. 135 miles in nine days, hiking all day with a huge pack. I ended up jettisoning a few things. But not enough to make the pack actually light!! I carried a tent, sleeping bag, pads, food, cookware, clothes, everything I needed for nine days.
I'm sure you had to do much worse.
My brother was in Nam. Maybe I shouldn't walk about that either. I had two brothers in Nam at the same time. But never mind that. They both lived.
The hike to the retreat house takes me 35 minutes. I'm not as fast a hiker as I used to be, by any means.
I am walking past the woods now. It's very dark. Are there woods where you are? What kind of trees? Are they like ours or different? Am I asking inappropriate questions. I don't even know what appropriate. If you can't say, that's okay.
On my way to the retreat house, I have to cross 3 4-lane roads with busy traffic, hard to get across in the dark.
I've arrived at the retreat house and I have to work now. I will try to write to you again next Wednesday. If you can write me anything at all, even a postcard, I could possibly write to you directly, if you prefer that.
Sincerely yours and thank you again for your service,
Stay safe, (Mary)
Dear Unknown Soldier,
Today is the day that I promised to write to you and I hope I have time to do it! We have company. I can't write right now as that would be rude to my company. It's my Mother in law. She is 87 years old and still driving. I went shopping earlier and got 4 bottles of wine, 2 for cooking and two for drinking, mushrooms, spaghetti sauce, ground round. Fresh Michigan Peaches, lettuce and spinach and everything else my husband needs to make spaghetti, salad and I also got a baguette. He just got home from work and has started cooking. I ran up here to print a story I am working on for ML to read. I made peach tarts and peach sauce for ice-cream for dessert.
So Hello again. How are you? I hope you are well and healthy and safe. I want to thank you again for the good work you are doing for our people. THANK YOU.
I know you can't write about what you are doing and I know you can't always write at all, but it's sort of hard to carry on a conversation when it is all one-sided. I feel a little clumsy about this. I don't know what else to do but to tell you about myself, which seems rather self-centered, but I can't talk about YOU.
It is 8:08 PM, and dark. I am walking alone through Detroit on a street named Canyon. Detroit has the highest crime rate in the nation. It makes me just a little nervous to walk alone at night, though I have encountered no personal difficulties yet, thank goodness.
I am carrying a backpack that is so heavy it hurts my shoulder. It is full of books, manuscripts and light bulbs. The light bulbs, of course, are not heavy, but the books and manuscripts are. I am taking the to the retreat house where I hope to get some work done on my children's novels before I'm too tired to work any more.
The air is warm, slightly damp and humid, and full of cricket song. I am writing on a small computer. I am wearing a headlamp with red gel to help prevent my eyes from dedark adapting. Of course, there are lights here and there, but I am walking along Balduck Park, which stretches many long blocks and is very dark and some of the few lights that are here are out.
I am walking through a dark tunnel now formed by overhanging trees and grapevines. There are dead birds here. Mostly starlings. I don't know why they are dead. I hear the sound of running water, a fountain in someone's yard nearby.
There is a little nearly new moon covered by a haze of cloud. I wonder what the weather is like where you are. Can you talk about that? If so, is it hot? Dry, humid? What sounds do you hear?
I am writing a children's book about a military academy that has a children's camp in the summer, for "cadets" (young kids.) They are too young to use guns yet (eleven) but they have marching and leadership training. I am not really sure what leadership training for eleven years olds would be like, though. I prefer to write about stuff I KNOW about, and I know NOTHING about this. But my protagonist ended up here. Her parents thought it might teach her some discipline.
That's probably something you can't talk about, either. Well, if you do know anything and would like to talk to me about it, it would be a big help to me, but it you don't or can't or don't have time to even write, that's OK too.
It is sort of hard to write on the computer and walk in the dark at the same time, but if I don't do this, I will be unable to keep my commitment to you, since I was busy all day today and will be busy again tomorrow.
There are a few stars visible through the hazy clouds. I'm getting very warm from hiking with this pack. You probably carry one much heavier. I have before, though probably not as heavy as yours. I once walked the Northville Placid trail in New York through the heart of the Adirondack Mountains and my pack when I started weighed more than eighty pounds. And I'd gone ahead and made several food drops, so I didn't have as much to carry as I might have. I did alone. 135 miles in nine days, hiking all day with a huge pack. I ended up jettisoning a few things. But not enough to make the pack actually light!! I carried a tent, sleeping bag, pads, food, cookware, clothes, everything I needed for nine days.
I'm sure you had to do much worse.
My brother was in Nam. Maybe I shouldn't walk about that either. I had two brothers in Nam at the same time. But never mind that. They both lived.
The hike to the retreat house takes me 35 minutes. I'm not as fast a hiker as I used to be, by any means.
I am walking past the woods now. It's very dark. Are there woods where you are? What kind of trees? Are they like ours or different? Am I asking inappropriate questions. I don't even know what appropriate. If you can't say, that's okay.
On my way to the retreat house, I have to cross 3 4-lane roads with busy traffic, hard to get across in the dark.
I've arrived at the retreat house and I have to work now. I will try to write to you again next Wednesday. If you can write me anything at all, even a postcard, I could possibly write to you directly, if you prefer that.
Sincerely yours and thank you again for your service,
Stay safe, (Mary)
