Morning broke with a harsh
light. The weekend beckoned you back to bed with warm hands but the sun that
shone insistently through the window was too bright to let you rest peacefully.
Feeling, as always, as if you hadn’t slept enough, you trudged down the stairs
to arrive to two lovely conclusions: the first being that you had slept all the
way till one in the afternoon, and the second being that Nat had too.
General Washington and those two awkward teenagers he adopted.
History always calls Alex and Lafayette Washington’s “surrogate sons” and I just have this mental image of Washington referring Hamilton and Lafayette as his sons in public and confusing everyone around him.
“Sir, you don’t have any sons in the battalion…?” “MY SONS. WHERE ARE MY SONS?” “Sir…?”
Hamilton has family issues but he doesn’t hate this.
Lafayette just loves America. And his adopted family.
I have two songs I’m currently addicted too and I couldn’t make up my mind:
The Dubliners- The Rocky Road to Dublin
Dave Goulder- Eight Freight Blues
(( Im not sure if anybody knows of these songs, but hey now you do. ))
People screw up, you know. You shouldn’t hold it against them. You shouldn’t expect everyone to know everything you’re thinking about or not getting from them. It doesn’t mean they don’t love you. They just screwed up.