Wednesday, August 19, 2009

Where Fraser Fell- 1777

Once upon a time, a girl got married. That went something like this...
Him: Should we get married so your Dad doesn't kill me?
Her: Sure.
Him: I like battlefields and history.
Her: Fabulous. You're cute.
Love blinds and allows silly things like a honeymoon trip involving revolutionary war battlefields. Eventually, A&P got sucked into the revolutionary war battlefield habit, and I am surely the victim.
Flash forward to a week ago- Saratoga Springs, New York- the first victory for the Americans in the War and where Benedict Arnold still had his head on straight.
Him: Hey! This is great.
Her: Yep. Ho-hum
Kid: Yep. Ho-hum
Him: Hey! You're supposed to like this.
Kid: When do we eat?
Other Kid: You're interupting my movie.
Her: Yep.
Him: You people aren't into this at all.
That was a challenge. At our next stop, Andrew and I ran down the path- me on my Monty Python style imaginary horse while belting out The Battle Hymn of the Republic. We happened upon the marker designating the spot where British General Fraser was picked off by an inventive sharp shooting American from a near by tree.
After my lousy pretend shot from 20 paces, Andrew whirled around, moaned, hollered and slowly fell to the base of the monument. "I am shot!" Fraser, er Andrew, flopped to the ground.
We clip-clopped back to the car slightly triumphant, Tim shaking his head.
I can't wait to go to Yorktown.

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