Here are the rules:
- Link to the person who tagged me.
- Post the rules on my blog.
- Write six random things about myself.
Tag six people at the end of my post.(mebbe not)
- Let each person know that they’ve been tagged by leaving a comment on their blog.
- Let the tagger know when my entry is posted.
- I met B at church, St. John’s in the Village, to be exact. Not on a blind date, not online, not in a bar, not at a dinner party. He was the parish administrator, and I was a member of the church choir. I walked through his office every Thursday evening on my way to rehearsal and waved hello. It was a very gentle introduction. On our first date we watched the second act of a dress rehearsal of A.R. Gurney’s Love Letters. Then we went out to dinner.
- Great memory: Instead of spending my junior year of college abroad like all of my friends, I went to Woods Hole, Massachusetts, and participated in a program called Sea Semester (not to be confused with Semester at Sea). It was a twelve-week academic program, half of which was spent at Woods Hole studying oceanography, marine biology, and nautical science and half doing research from a 120-foot staysail schooner called the Westward. We sailed from Miami, Florida, through the Bahamas, up to Bermuda, then up the Chesapeake, and finally back to Woods Hole. The subject of my research project was pelagic tar and how it was filtered out of the water by island systems and the North Atlantic Gyre. While my classmates were sunning themselves on beaches in Bermuda, I was scraping tar off of rocks and analyzing it. We were actually stranded for a few days in the Sargasso Sea. We students served as researchers and crew aboard the Westward. I spent some gorgeous, peaceful nights by myself on bow watch. Which brings to mind one of my favorite bits of etymology from Moby Dick: A mariner sat in the shrouds one night, / The wind was piping free; / Now bright, now dimmed, was the moonlight pale, / And the phospher gleamed in the wake of the whale, / As it floundered in the sea. —Elizabeth Oakes Smith.
- I don’t get seasick (see above), and I have a high threshold for stomach-churning stimulation. I love any sort of ride at an amusement park or county fair. LOVE the Cyclone at Coney Island. I definitely have never stayed too long at the fair.
- I once deliberately fell and ripped the knees of a pair of trousers so I wouldn’t have to wear them any more. They were brown-and-white houndstooth double-knit polyester bell-bottoms. My excuse for this bit of bad behavior and the clothes: I was about seven years old and it was the 1970s. On the other hand, my favorite articles of clothing from around that time were a fringed suede vest and a French-cuffed, puffy-sleeved white and brown shirt that my aunt and uncle sent me from Greece. Rock star.
- I was named for my great-great uncle who was killed in the Battle of the Wilderness: “JARED HENRY HOTTEL, born July 24, 1843; was a soldier in the Confederate Army in the Civil War. He entered the service in the spring of 1861 at the age of seventeen. He served in Ashby’s Cavalry, Co. K, Rosser's Brigade, Jeb Stuart’s Corps, until he was killed in the Battle of the Wilderness, May 5, 1864, by a gunshot wound in the breast, and was carried from the field by Jacob Zirkle, a member of his company. He was buried by his comrades in a garden under a cherry tree on the Plank Road, leading from the Wilderness to Orange Court House. Later, his body was disinterred and brought back to his home for final burial in the family graveyard.” From: History of the Descendants of John Hottel, by Rev W.D. Huddle. Harrisonburg, Va.: C.J. Carrier Company, 1982, pp. 563–564.
- I always mean to, but I never pack my lunch for work. This means that I spend about $3.00 to $4.00 every day or $20.00 a week on food out when I’d be perfectly happy eating a peanut butter sandwich and some carrot sticks.