It was a long, hot, fun weekend. I am now tired and hopefully will manage to make this an interesting AAR. I am going to do this perhaps a little differently than usual.

Thursday: We arrived at the park around 4:30-ish, if I recall correctly, and as we began to unload, with some slight assistance from Josh, Luke and Abigail arrived with their tent fly and wall for us to borrow again (our tent is a leaker, so the fly actually served as an extra roof). The finished set up looked like this:

Our next door neighbors on our right were, by choice, Hawk and Jill...and they had a new set-up!! What do you think?

We hung out under their fly and got eaten alive by skeeters...but still had fun.

Friday: Being School Day we prepped for the kids to walk through. Once again, we weren't official presenters, but were open to questions. A little over half way through the day, I suddenly realized why people kept asking about candles....

We made some new friends, due in part to a baby's bottle needing to be warmed and we having a close at hand fire...

Josh "strutted" around in his new Captain's uniform... ;)

Abigail and Grace came over Friday evening for supper and to spend the night crammed into our tent with us. Before heading off to the Land of Nod, we ended up photo-spreeing...

Furthermore, Obadiah was called in to play "Taps". Now technically, "Taps" is to be played at 10 pm, but it was probably more like 7 or 8 pm...but it is a reenactment....

Saturday: The big day...the day when the whole K. family turned out for the fun...and Mom and Dad came up for the afternoon!! :)

From my vantage point, the battle was sub-spectacular...not bad, but nothing uber exciting. Luke got hit twice (in the same knee). He said later the first hit was because he forgot to put in his ear-plugs and he wanted to put them in. Ethan got hit in the leg too, and later "died" and Andrew and Obadiah got into the action as well.

After the battle, Obadiah played "Taps"...

Troop photos (plus a few of the girls cheering them on)...

Random shots from the day:

Throughout the course of the day, music was played. In fact, we had an official request from General Lee to surround his tent and play. There are no photos of that, since the camerawomen were playing. Luke's accordion fell apart on him, which was really sad. 

The folks left sometime after the K's did and so Katherine and I sat around with Hawk and Jill for awhile, just relaxing and listening to the music from the ball (we didn't go for a number of reasons, one of which was my feet and legs were so tired), and wondering what was up "over yonder". Turns out a youngster had a 45 minute long nosebleed that led to a trip to the ER. He was apparently fine the next day because he was running around playing with other boys.

Sunday: A fairly peaceful day. Hot and humid. Hawk preached a good sermon out of John 4 (the Samaritan woman at the well), which just so happens to be where Pastor is preaching from at church. 

There wasn't a huge amount of interaction with spectators on this day, but we talked to friends and watched the battle which took it's toll on the Confederates. After that we watched the medical demonstration led by Mr. G (who is friends with the K's, sings "Messiah"...and has defeated Lyme disease himself). 

Something almost funny happened at this point. This lady I have been talking to at events on and off for the past two years came up behind me and re-introduced herself...and then asked a mutual friend/acquaintance, Lydia to introduce us girls to her four sons, as her daughter needed to use the ladies... It was a bit awkward, strolling with a girl in a Union artillery uniform into the Confederate artillery camp to meet the four boys. I remember all their names but one. (Philip, Nate, Curtiss...?) Anyway, I really kind of like Mrs. W. and she seems to like me. She asked how old I was and when I said, "26", her voice and body language seemed to say, "Oh...too old for my boys." :D 

We began to break camp not long after the battle and headed to the K's for Sunday evening church. Various people were taking walks or having naps when we got there, so I ended up standing in the kitchen drinking several mugs of water and talking to Luke for fifteen to twenty minutes while Katherine (poor abandoned dear!) rested herself on the front porch, alone. 

After church, some new friends of the K's arrived and we had popcorn and watermelon out doors.

We all spent the night because we were going to join them in/for the local Memorial Day ceremonies and parade. I know Abigail got photos, but we did not...and since I forgot to take my computer with me, I wasn't able to get any of her's. Therefore, no pictures.

Anyway, Katherine and I marched in our first ever parade. :) We were not too far from the head of it; the local High School band was in the lead, with something between them and Mr. S's (a WWII vet) 1939 Buick which we were behind, in the following order: Grace on a vintage bike, Luke and Abigail, then Katherine and I on either side of Obadiah. Behind us was Josiah on his unicycle. Isaac was supposed to drive his little red tractor, but it conked on him just before parade time. :( Poor thing, he was really disappointed (not that I blame him!) All of us, except Josiah were in 1940's dress (more or less), Luke decked out in his seaman's uniform. Andrew and Ethan did a fly-over in a Husky.

Before the parade though was a ceremony. Then after the parade was two ceremonies--one in each cemetery--on opposite sides of the main road. There was music and speeches and prayers which were Christian. Before the third ceremony, as people were mingling around, I accosted a WWII-vet and was allowed to plant a kiss on his cheek. I left red lipstick on his face, which he left there. The American Legion post was handing out plaques of recognition and he was one of the recipients. As it turns out, he was a sailor!! As he was coming up for his plaque, I heard Mrs. K saying something about the lipstick on his face and I leaned over and grinning said, "That's mine..." She laughed. 

Returning to the house and while waiting for lunch, Josiah and I  went out to look at his bees. In under five minutes, I had been stung twice. Once on the neck and once on the chin...so I about faced and headed in, with Josiah right behind me for ice and lavender oil. Next time, I'm taking my own bee helmet. 

After lunch, during which I bit down on my somewhat swollen lip, we talked and played our various instruments and just had a down right enjoyable time. We were the last to leave...we left around 9 pm, tired and worn out, but with another bucket full of memories. 

Yesterday was one of those days that seemed like two separate days.

The morning saw us nipping into town so Katherine could purchase her new "beater" violin. She already has two, but both are family hairlooms--one is an antique and belonged to our paternal great-grandfather; the other belonged to Granddaddy's cousin and is in need of some repair work. So, as you can see, wanting neither to get (further) damaged, she wanted a new one for reenacting. And...she got a pretty nice one that is essentially brand new:

When we came home, I fixed lunch before betaking myself out to mow. If you are guessing that something happened, you would be spot on.

I really planned on mowing more of the yard than got done, but that piece on the steering column that we replaced 2-3 years ago has failed again. I don't remember what the thing is called and I have yet to dig into the workings of the machine (may not even get to it this week), but I have a pretty good idea as to where to start. Still, I got the front/road done, and as that is the most important part, I'm not going to blow too hard. 

I discovered, while mowing, that some silly Killdeer has decided to nest in the driveway!! Goofy bird. If the cats don't get her, we'll see if the eggs get a chance to hatch before someone accidentally drives over them. I would have attempted to divert the bird from nesting in our driveway if I had had any clue she was doing it, but I was too late...and she has three pretty eggs laid. (Seem rather large for a bird of that size.)

Well, along and along, I came in and decided that I wanted to go shooting, so Katherine and I gathered our gear and headed out to our own personal range.

We were both testing out some new (to us) guns. I've fired mine a couple of times before, but am not sure I really want to switch from my revolver to a semi-auto. 

I shoot better with the revolver...it holds as much ammo (unless there is one in the chamber of the pistol)...and I am just a revolver lover. 

As both of us are out of practice we had some technical issues to deal with, but we ended  the session taking turns with my beefy .22 and shooting buffaloes at close range. She really actually won. Five shots, five buffaloes, the extra shot flipped an oil filter. Me, five shots, four and a half buffaloes (gave one a quarter turn), the sixth shot finished him off. Anyway, we had a lot of fun and I got my first real sunburn of the year.

By the time we had used up a small pile of ammo, it was time for me to think about making supper, so we moseyed in. I took one of those "how on earth did that happen??" falls while I was closing the back of the barn. Actually, I know it was just that the worn tread of my boot slid on the very smooth concrete, but one minute I was standing up, the next I was flat. Surprisingly, after an hour or so, I would hardly have known I had hit the deck. Lord saved me from anything serious (maybe it's really actually a good thing to be short! Not so far to fall!) I ended up laughing about it because I'm sure it looked funny--but no one was there to see it, so we'll just have to imagine how ridiculous I looked.

Life marches on...next thing on my list, finish yesterday's laundry. It ought to be dry by now...

Years ago, right after we retired from the Army, I boldly asked my Grandpa, "Can I have your old Army truck?"

The answer being yes, I became the proud owner of a 1942 Chevrolet. I have recently confirmed what my uncle once told us that it was an airfield fire-truck. Only the proper terminology is "airfield crash truck". 

In the post-WWII era the truck was modified from having a proper fire-engine-ish back end to a boasting a large white-painted wooden box. This was my Grandpa's beekeeping truck. I don't know (I will have to ask Grandma) if he built the box on it himself or not. I do know he purchased it in 1959.

Restoration to WWII-service configuration is not going to happen right off for me. I have no clue how much it will/would cost, but I know far more than I currently have to spend. 

Finally feeling that I may be well enough to be serious about this, I am hoping to start working on it this summer. I have already drawn up a list of things that need doing--starting with a battery and a brake job. Whether that is "just" bleeding them (something I have zero experience with) or something more major (I hope not!). I want to do the work myself, though I will doubtless be running to Daddy for help...even though I found and was able to print off a copy of the shop and repair manual.

Between pictures and research and help from a reenacting acquaintance (the gentleman in question is a practicable encyclopedia of WWII information!), I am completely convinced that she is indeed a 1942--only with a few 1943 features--like the dash. But, seeing, as I now know that a certain number sequence is the delivery date (December 4, 1942), that in all likelihood explains the next year model features.

I have GOALS of getting her RWWII ready for this year (clearly not 100% restored). In fact, Mr. Courter saw my FB post and personally contacted me to encourage me to bring her, no matter what she looks like! Talk about being somewhat flabbergasted...

​I love this event...and the people are amazing!

Anyway, back to my truck...I have a number of questions. The two most pressing ones to my mind are:
#1: HOW do I find out where my truck served? I did some poking this afternoon and came up empty.
#2: What was the original paint job's color? Was it the red I can see underneath the OD green or was it indeed Olive Green like the majority of these (or so I read)? I'd LOVE it if it were red (I have seen one colorized photo from 1944 with a red truck--up in Alaska) since that is my favorite color and vintage Chevy red is the best--but if it she needs to be olive, olive she will be--eventually.

Oh...and very importantly, I have to learn how to drive her. I'm fairly confident after reading the manual on top of what I already know about the mechanics of a manual transmission that I can without too much trouble learn how to drive a stick--even a beast of a truck like this one. 

Skimming the manual today after I printed it off, I ended up going to the internet for further descriptions of how internal combustion engines function and as of this evening, I understand better than I ever did before how vehicles go down the road. I still have a thousand things to learn, but each piece of info I tuck away helps. :)

Anyway...I'm excited. I won't say "stay tuned" because if I get started, you'll hear about it and if I don't you won't...and of course, this is an "as I can afford it" project.

The rest of the quote goes, "In search of El Dorado" (from the film "El Dorado")...but in this case it wasn't El Dorado I was after.

Anyway, to back up, yesterday saw the day I had scheduled for Gardening Day 1. The morning started with a quick three-stop run into our little town (post office, bank to deposit a couple of checks, and the gas station). Arriving home with my fuel, I unloaded it at the back of the barn, parked the car, and headed back to open the barn up wide.

Done with that, I hopped on the mower and mowed the top half of the garden area. I mowed fairly high so that the shorter dandelions would not be damaged too badly, except for where I was going to till.

I don't recall if this is only our second year of strip-tilling or the third. Either way, strip-tilling the top half of the garden was the task I had laid out for myself. Once done with the mowing, I greased the Bolens, hopped on and gave the thing a crank. Oh, it turned over, but it was clear it wasn't going to roar to life, even after being on the charger over night. Thankfully, this battery charger has this nice 50 amp jump feature (I've used it several times for various vehicles)...and when I got that set up, old Bolly rattled to life! (By the way, I gassed up first. It's not particularly fun, especially for me being so short, to put gas in the tank over that muffler when it's hot.)

Merrily on my way (and this was before lunch y'all!), I made the first pass. At the end of the row, following my usual routine when the field is planted (it got planted Saturday), I went to back up and do a multi-point turn around (the Bolens turns like a barge on the Mississippi...or an oil-tanker--whichever "meterpher" you prefer). Nothing. 

Reverse was non-extant. 

You have got to be kidding me! 

Okay, you're not. Why do we always have something go wrong with our machinery?

I wasn't hugely upset and decided that I would just have to bounce over the newly planted corn to get Bolly turned around and back to the barn. I also decided that I wasn't going to bug my dad with the problem unless I really couldn't figure it out myself. So I headed in to do a little research. (The internet is a gold-mine if you know how to dig right.) Locating a manual for a roughly contemporary dated Bolens yard tractor, I poked about looking for something that might be of help. I was in and out a couple of times (had to take pictures with clean-hands!) and someplace in here was lunch. After lunch, I headed out with a page printed from a manual for reference...

Fender removal was simple (and I am ever so thankful for that little red Sears tool set we keep in the back of the Suburban. It comes in mighty handy). 

​I compared my set up to the somewhat striated photos on the manual page and went to work.

I don't really know how long I spent tinkering, but I quickly figured out how the machine was supposed to work. 

When the drive pedal is pushed forward (with the toe), the forward jaw opens out (above photo) which, if my brain/knowledge is correct, engages a gear in what I think is probably called the gear box. When the drive pedal is pushed down (with the heel), it opens up the rear jaw (next picture), which reverses the gear (or some such thing). So, I may be a little sketchy on what exactly happens inside the box, but I did figure out that which side of the jaw opened corresponded with either forward or backward motion.

Furthermore, I was able to figure out, even without the help of the manual (though it confirmed my suspicions) that the thing (someplace in the manual, I thought it called it a clevis) in the next photo that is rather flat and kidney shaped was the culprit, more or less. 

The foot brake (which must be completely depressed for the engine to even think about turning over) is also connected to it (there at the rear is the foot brake bar's connection). There is a bar with an little "L" shaped end (you can just see it) that moves within the "kidney" determining the direction of motion. The Kidney is capable of some movement--which is where the problem came in. It had, somehow, since the last use of the Bolens gotten shifted ever so slightly, thus prohibiting the rear jaw to open wide-enough to engage the gear. It was an easy fix once I figured out exactly what I needed to do. (I didn't even need tools. Just some slight elbow grease--though I got more grease on me that the amount of elbow grease I needed.)

Before I put the fender arrangement back on, I cranked the machine (I was very careful, Mom!! I have zero interest in getting caught in a spinning drive shaft!) and using my hand, played with the pedal and ran it back and forth. Satisfied, I turned the tractor off, put the fender contraption back on, reattached the seat, crawled on, cranked up...and proceeded to spend the next several hours happily traversing back and forth tilling up the dirt.

I will have to till some more since today we pretty much filled up the ground I broke yesterday. But I don't mind. I like running machinery. :) 

And that was Day 1 and 2 of Gardening 2018....