Much like the Confederate Army 150 years ago, I’m Antietam bound

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Having baked a loaf of cinnamon sugar bread for the trip and then promptly hitting my head on the car door, almost knocking myself unconscious, the trip has begun.

And, on a whim, I brought my reenacting clothes. You know. Just in case.

And yes, if you’re curious, I did cry for twenty minutes when leaving The Baby with my mom. Hopefully they’ll finish painting the shutters for me while we’re gone. Or eat the leftovers in the fridge. Whatever, as long as our stupid dog doesn’t pee on my clean floor, it’s all good. Cool beans. Cool legumes.

Anyway, I’m setting blogging goals for the trip:

1. Get photo taken with random Confederates,
2. Get photo taken with random Yankees,
3. Ubiquitous photo of me and an artillery piece,
4. Ubiquitous self portrait because I really am that vain,
5. Capture The Hubs on camera,
6. Get photo taken with a fabulously bearded gent,
7. Buy a new dress,
8. Keep The Toddler from causing general mayhem and destruction,
9. WORK ON THE NOVEL, and
10. Not freak out when something or something runs amok.

Because it will. That’s how I roll.

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