I'm off to Fiddler's Green

[Deleted]

Some of you may be qualified to stop off and visit.  Other's not so much.

Don't worry, I'm not doing anything stupid.


Fiddler’s Green


Halfway down the trail to Hell,

In a shady meadow green

Are the Souls of all dead Troopers camped,

Near a good old-time canteen.

And this eternal resting place

Is known as Fiddlers’ Green.



Marching past, straight through to Hell

The Infantry are seen.

Accompanied by the Engineers,

Artillery and Marines,

For none but the shades of Cavalrymen

Dismount at Fiddlers’ Green.



Though some go curving down the trail

To seek a warmer scene.

No Trooper ever gets to Hell

Ere he’s emptied his canteen.

And so rides back to drink again

With friends at Fiddlers’ Green.



And so when man and horse go down

Beneath a saber keen,

Or in a roaring charge of fierce melee

You stop a bullet clean,

And the hostiles come to get your scalp,

Just empty your canteen,

And put your pistol to your head

And go to Fiddlers’ Green.

[azranger]

Adios Amigo

[miker]

I'm back. Don't get overly excited.

[quincannon]

I promise.

The 4 to 8 inches of snow expected here starting about 1300 though has caught me in the unenviable position of having washed all my jeans yesterday and have not put them in the dryer yet. I am currently trapsing around the house in cut off (made into shorts) battle dress trousers, like I do not have a care in the world. Piss poor planning on my part.

[miker]

Could be worse. You could ha e to go outside in shorts. Its freezing here in Florida. 36 last night. But it warms up fast.

[quincannon]

Did I mention that I am also out of bread and something for tonight's dinner too. There is always Jersey Mike's, but they don't have a drive in window.

[miker]

That can be a problem.

[azranger]

25 inches of snow and 13 degree last night.  Plenty of food. Waiting for the arrival of a Vermont Casting wood stove.

Regards

Steve