You know the day is coming to a close when you start debating your coworkers if growing a bear and shaping it like a spider is a bad idea.
A friend of mine is on vacation for a week and she told me before departing that she’d love to here from me via email while gone. I told her I don’t have a lot to talk about, I had no clue what to write. She told me whatever crossed my mind… that was really a dangerous opening. She will now be receiving daily emails from soldiers involved in various wars.
June 25th, 1863
My Dearest Margaret,
I take quill in hand as my troop is headed towards what General Lee expects to be “a small skirmish” in Gettysburg. He feels we’ll only have light losses and will be able to continue our march North with no problem. I don’t know, I have a bad feeling about this one and felt it was time I told you how I felt.
I know I was but a poor share cropper in your father’s cotton fields, but I always admired you from afar. I always knew your were in the one in kitchen fixin the vittles as the smell would waft down to us, and they do say they way to a man’s heart is through his stomach.
A small piece of me died though when I saw you taking late night trips to see Henry, the stable boy, but still I could not help but love you. And it did give me some hope you might leave Billy Ray, the son of the neighboring planation owner, for a common field boy.
Well, time for us to pack up and head back on the road to Gettysburg. If I should come back from the war, I am hopeful this letter will have touched your heart and you will pay my cabin one of those ‘late night visits”.
Jimmie Joe Ray Billy Bob, Esq.
(and to you my dear blog readers….no, I won’t be sharing them all with you…I’m not THAT moch a tight wad)