Diosa! Huzzah to ye lass. Betwixt you and Mission it's almost like being there....nah, not really. Nothing can replace sore feet, smoky clothes, rhum voice, powder stained hands, clay pipes, fireside cooking, the smell of black powder in the morning, afternoon and evening. Wenches and their ahhh...assets. Pistol cleaning and cartridge rolling parties. Lob. The sound and feel of canon rounds. Tents turning green, rain, heat and cold. Mugging with the people who come to see, to listen, to learn and to just hang out with us. Us. We who would do this just for each other get to share this with the uninitiated and see the inner child awaken in them, the same one we see in each other, in ourselves.
Gotsta get back...oh, ah...I mean, Verily I must return forthwith...Thanks for the blog!