This is how I spent most of the day...

...under the lawn mower with dirt and old, dry grass clippings falling into my face and making my eyes water. I looked something like a light colored coal miner when I came in.

But...to start at the beginning of the day and the hydrolic part of the post title. I "fixed" the hydrolic lift in the wheel chair van. Mom called me out to see what I could do since I am rather mechanical and more than that, I enjoy it. The lift had come down, but it wouldn't go up all the way. I used the manual hand lever to lift it up and then let it down--and then it wouldn't even work manually. (Turns out that was because I had to tighten the manual release back up...I learned something new today!) I was on and off the phone with Daddy and ran back and forth between various tool boxes a couple of times. I ended up digging Grandpa's tool boxes out from under the RV in search of a socket wrench. I did find one...eventually. I also had a little conflicting advice from two good mechanics (Grandpa was sitting out in the doorway of the barn the whole time)...but that got resolved.

Anyway, I took the cover off the hydrolic lift's motor area and looked and stared and poked and prodded and talked to Daddy (over the phone mechanics again, you know). I put some more hydrolic fluid in (it was an inch below the "full" line), and then tried the lift. Nothing. It was somewhere in here that Daddy asked if I had tightened up the release valve and I went "Huh? I was supposed to?" 

Once I did that, it worked fine--and apparently, there was no more problem with it.

After Mom and Katherine left with Grandpa (he had a blood draw today), I went to work removing the deck from the mower. It took me an hour, though it felt more like two. I ended up taking something off that I didn't need to which rather bugged me, but oh well.

Once I got the deck off, I put the mower up on the ramps. It took a while in the damp grass to get it up there because my feet were slipping. I did eventually get it up, only the first time I got it all the way up the ramps I was pushing too hard and it went right on over! The second time it stayed.

I don't know if it is just me or what, but this machine appears to be slightly over-engineered...though I don't know exactly how I would simplify it. Anyway, I spent another hour under the mower before lunch and then between two and five under and around the mower in various attitudes. I never did succeed in getting the V-belt off either. I loosened the plate that the front wheel drive is attatched to (I was going to take it all the way down, but that never did quite happen), and pulled and pushed and grunted and groaned and simply could not get the belt off! The drive belt at the back (there are two of them--the 'intermeditate' belt that the accelerator works which starts the actual drive belt [a shorter belt]) has to be taken off before you can actually take off the belt that needs to be replaced. I couldn't get that one off either. Plain and simple, I am not strong enough. I can see exactly what needs to be done, but I can't do it!

On here is sounds so...weird. How did I spend all that time on the mower? I guess it was because I was figuring out how the thing is put together at the same time that I taking it apart. I ended up putting the tools away, but leaving the parts on the mower (still on the ramps) in front of the old garage. I'm slightly bummed that I couldn't get the thing fixed today.

However, on a cheerier (or at least more amusing) note, was this:,

That's right--they are painted. Katherine has discovered some non-toxic nail polish and last night she painted all our nails for us.

So there I was, with the first paint job I've had on my nails in three years (and last time was to cover stains when I went to play a gig--more to please others than myself), getting grease and grim all over me. I just thought it might make someone else besides myself grin... :)

And just because...

I don't have one of Katherine, because she was the one taking pictures! (That is Abby behind me...she's a nutty little cat. :D)

P.S. I forgot to mention that Katherine came out and helped a little bit a couple of times. She did some tool running and later tried to help me get the short v-belt off.

WARNING!! This is going to be a long post...

This whole tale starts on Wednesday, the day we left home for Georgia (and from there Indiana), with the back of my mother's beautiful red 1989 Chevorlet Suburban packed with our reenacting gear and other things we would need on a 6 week 'vacation'. I kept a fairly extensive log of our journey...something I have never done in this fashion before. I may actaully end up quoting myself here....

It was almost 9 Wednesday morning when we pulled out of the driveway (me driving--I drove until we got on the interstate and that was it). We had to stop by Wal-Mart for more water bottles (am I ever glad we did!), the bank, and Savannah's doctor (I forget the reason for that).

Anyway, by the time we pulled out of the drive, I had already noticed a lack of power steering (I have driven this truck before and I knew that it handled better than that!) As we left the driveway we heard a loud clattering noise. I didn't chalk it up to anything else than a stick...until later.

When we got to Wal-Mart, we popped the hood to try to find the power-steering fluid receptical, figuring we might need some. (Even then, I was a bit skeptical because in my truck--which for a while seemed to just eat the stuff, it didn't get stiff like that, it started to buzz a little.) We could not find it! Even with Daddy on the phone, we still couldn't locate it. Turns out, I couldn't see it for no other reason than that I am too short!

Daddy said he'd come--so while he was on the way I trotted in and picked up the things we needed from Wal-Mart.

Naturally, Daddy being much more of a mechanic that I'll probably ever be, he immediately spotted the problem--the power steering belt was gone! That accounted for the noise we'd heard...as it turns out, one of the kittens (poor little Grady!) had climbed into the engine (I had seen her get in there earlier and I literally almost popped the hood and checked before I cranked the engine), and got caught in the belt--it broke, but didn't take leave of the engine until we reached the end of the driveway (a quarter of a mile).

At this point, Savannah and I decided to walk over to the bank (not far at all) while Daddy went after a new belt. At the bank, we both set up checking accounts--this'll come in handy since we both have our own businesses (more or less). Daddy got back shortly before we were done and came into the bank to deposit a check before he got greasy in the engine.

I ended up helping Daddy a little with the belt replacement though my main job consisted of holding his little radio at just the correct angle so Glenn Beck would come in! I took advantage of the opportunity to learn a little more about engines--without having to rely strictly on verbal descriptions! :D

Savannah went on to the doctor's while the others of us had our noses poked under the hood.

Due to these activities we really actually got on the road at 11...by 2 we were driving through the Payne's Prairie area. The signifcance of that is that Payne's Prairie is where the Cow Cavalry would often stop to fatten up the cattle before they drove them the rest of the way to either Baldwin or on into Georgia.

It was almost 4 o'clock when we crossed the border into Georgia. A little over thirty minutes later, we were sitting at the side of the road...

Someplace north of Valdosta we'd heard a clattering noise. At the time I thought it sounded like the noise we had heard earlier that morning. Savannah said it was just gravel on the road. I almost told Savannah to pull over and let me check under the hood, but I didn't.

We had just passed Lennox when Savannah gave an exclaimation and started to head to side of the road. The temperature gauge was reading extremely hot. At the same time she got us off the road, we saw the steam and heard the boiling. Savannah popped the hood and we weren't completely stopped before I was opening the door. I threw the hood up and as soon as the steam from the radiator had cleared up a little I could see exactly what was the problem. (It is amazing how God works...the morning's "disaster" was providential! Because poor little Grady got herself killed by breaking the power steering belt, I got a mini crash course on mechanics which allowed me to be able to clearly see and articulate what had happened.) The fan belt had completely shreaded and the new power steering belt was gone! With further probing by actual mechanics, the diagosis was as follows: the A/C compressor had frozen up which caused the power steering belt to break--which in turn got into the fan belt and completely obliterated it.

While we were waiting for the tow-truck, a man stopped briefly to see if we had help on the way...I told him we did and what was wrong and he went on. I wonder if he called the police about us or not, because fairly shortly after he stopped, a county sheriff stopped and would have stayed with us until the tow-truck arrived, but he had to go to the scene of a car-crash. The truck arrived not long after and hauled us into Lennox where our truck got dropped off at the auto-place which was closed (since it was 6 o'clock) and then across the overpass to this little ratty Knight's Inn...we slept with our guns and the chairs jammed under the door-knob...

We were able to get back on the road by 10 the next morning. We were ever so grateful that the head-gaskets did not need to be replaced (which apparently can happen if you run overheated too long). Because of time constraints, the A/C compressor got bypassed and so we ran with no air. That wasn't anything new since we'd been driving the Caddie with no air for over a month.

We ate at a Chick-fil-A for the first time ever for lunch. It was pretty good, but I had to eat really slow because already my jaw was refusing to open all the way and it kept popping. (I mentioned to Dr. K [chiropractor] that my jaw was popping and so she messed with it and it got worse.) Later in the week, I was literally have trouble opening it wide enough to get anything in it.

At our last stop for fuel and a bathroom break before getting to the reenactment, the toilet in the ladies room was backed up. Now, I'm a very practicel kind of person, so I just reached down, picked up the plunger that was laying on the floor and fixed the problem. I couldn't believe that someone else hadn't already done that! 

It was almost 5 when we got to the reenactment, after some strange, on the fly, by the seat of the pants re-routing from the way we thought we should have been able to get in. We located the K's and collected "our" tent, then got registered and finally found our spot. One man directed us to the civilian "town" (where we were not registered, but Miss Genie and Mr. Tony were--fellow 1st Fl Res. and Civ. members). From there we got redirected down to the main Confederate camp. I still don't think we were camped exactly where we were supposed to be, but it was okay...just a little strange due to our personas to be camped out amongst the soldiery.

Shortly before we turned in for the night (early for me), I noticed a young man walk by. I leaned over to Savannah: "Was that Walter?" It was--and I think I also saw Tom. (These guys are Amanda's brothers.) If I knew him better, I would have called out, "Is that you, Walter?" but since I've only ever had one actual (short) conversation with him, I didn't.

Over the weekend I got sunburned (my nose is currently peeling; at least it is not terribly sore still) because first I had my hair up wrong to wear a hat and then it was raining and then I had my hair up wrong again. (I did wear my bonnet while watching the battle Sunday.) However, there are more interesting things to talk about...

When we woke up Friday morning (around 6), the battle that had been going on up the hill when we bedded down recommenced. Around thirty minutes later, after some initial in-camp wake up calls from NCO's (most likely) and some stirring, I heard, "Company D, Georgia! First call!" followed by a volley of cannon fire. (The artillery reports in the hills echo and re-echo, rumbling rather like thunder. When a large number of them went off at the same time, it sounded like a fighter jet going over.) One could also hear the men engaged in battle yelling.

7 o'clock sharp a bugle call sounded through the camp. There had been one previously that I didn't know, but this one made me grin--it was Reveille. Later in the day, as I was finishing lunch, one of the young men who was camped across the 'street' walked over and asked if we had been the one's playing music last night (he'd seen us take our instruments out of the truck the evening before while unloading, but apparently hadn't seen that they went back in the truck). I said no, then asked if he were the one I'd just heard blowing on the bugle. He kind of laughed--it was him and he was just practicing. He then proceeded to tell Amanda (who was with me) and I about the different calls. I found it quite interesting.

Friday afternoon the 4 o'clock battle was fought way back on the south part of the property. Amanda and I strolled out there and sat on the bleachers with the press people (on the Yankee side!! I'm not sure there were bleachers on the other side) and watched most of the battle. Because of the size of this event, one really couldn't see the best what was going on. Amanda could really care less about the battle--she just wanted to see her brothers--but with the Confederates clear across the field, there was no way we could have seen them.

That night, after we went to bed, a fife and drum team started playing about two or three rows off. It made me want to get up and march. I did sing some of the songs to myself and wiggled my feet in time to the stirring music--not to mention the big grin on my sleepy face.

Sometime during the night I woke up and could tell it was raining because of the drops hitting the tent. (Someone told Savannah next day that it had started around 1 a.m.) I really was surprised at how dry it stayed inside--those canvas tents do not leak!

Much of Saturday was spent either in the Family Parlor (the K's sutlery) or the barn at the top of the hill. Up there we listened to some so-called lectures on various fashions--ball gowns, "Ditto" suits (that's one for you, gents! It was the direct precursor to the modern three-piece suit...often the pants and vest were a plaid! I wish I had a picture of the one the gentleman model was wearing--it amused me), and other articles of clothing and jewelry. Also one on "home healthcare" which I found rather interesting. Before that there was one on materinity--which we didn't stick around for. That one had some serious feministic, modern slant coming through that irritated me big time. I skipped the Yankee general's talk to eat lunch. In the hour before the battle (which started at 4 p.m.), we listened to Generals Polk, Breckenridge, and Longstreet impersonators giving the history of the battle. They were aided by artillery Major Smith in their presentation.

I can't give much of a play-by-play of the battle...we were sitting atop the hill watching it unfold in front of us, but on paper (or digits as the case may be) it would sound rather boring...particularly since I haven't any pictures to help.

The three girls (Savannah, Amanda, and I) determined that we would meet at the sutlery at 7:30 in order to head up the hill to the 8 o'clock dance. I was sent up to the reenactor parking to gather some more water bottles from the truck (we had already worked through the first flat). That was at least a five mile trek, no matter what Savannah says, and I did it at my top walking speed--first through slippery mud, then up hill. I barely made it. It's a good thing I had already decided not to change into my ball gown (didn't want to get good red Georgia mud on the hem--the dress I was wearing matched the mud pretty well actually) or I wouldn't have gotten there on time at all. Anyway, I was glad to sit down and rest for a few minutes before the dance actually started.

I danced all the dances (not counting the three mixers--they don't exactly count and the one polka I sat out because I knew I wouldn't last it out) with the same gent--a 16 year-old Georgia boy named Zack. He was a nice kid and we chattered at each other like old friends for most of the evening. Somebody please tell me why I attract the younger set of fellas? I really don't mind, but it is something I'm curious about. Zack reminded me of my cousin Joel in a lot of ways--which might be one of the reasons I was so comfortable with him so quickly. I had a lot of fun even though my feet were sore and swollen in my boots. I love to dance and will do it until I simply cannot go any further. The band was Un-Reconstructed (if you look closely at the video posted September 22 at the upper left hand corner, you can see me! I'm the girl in the orange dress with the white collar.) They were certainly more fun than the brass band at Suawnee, but not as much fun as 7 Lb.s of Bacon...of course, I do have some personal bias there.

Savannah and Amanda both had a wider variety of partners. I don't know who all they were, but I was introduced to a young man with dimples named Ben who really seemed to like Savannah. I kept noticing another gentleman with a short gray beard...he was in my set at least once...and thinking he looked awfully familiar. At the end of the dance he just so happened to be standing near where Zack and I were talking (poor kid was completely beat by that point--his hair was soaking wet). It was then that I remembered who he was...I stepped over and asked him, "Where you at Brooksville?" "Yes..." "I think you danced with my little sister at Brooksville." He thought for a minute then smiled with recognition in his eyes and we had a short, friendly exchange, and before he left he asked me to tell Katherine 'hello' for him. She of course remembered Mr. Richard and was pleased that he remembered her.

Miss Minnie had asked us to walk Amanda back to their trailer so we did--or rather I did. We left Savannah (who by now was really tired) sitting under the pavilion and I walked Amanda to the top of the hill where I left her and turned and strode back down the hill, wincing because my feet hurt so bad. We wanted to catch one of the 'trolleys' but couldn't. I was about half way up the hill with Amanda when I thought, "I should have told Savannah to catch a trolley if she could..." She told me that she almost did, but didn't want to be gone when I got back--though I probably would have guessed what had happened. We walked across the cornfield and down the muddy roads in the dark. It was rather neat walking through the mist/battle smoke and would have been rather eerie if one was alone. I must admit, I was grousing about my feet the whole way...

I think we both sleep soundly that night. When I woke up the next morning, my hamstrings hurt and so did my knees (I was also cold so that made it worse). I was surprised that my feet weren't more sore than they were. I guess I am just a serious flat-lander...I love the mountains, but it definitely would take me some time to get physically used to living in them!

Sunday was spent mostly lounging around in the sutlery or listening to Un-Reconstructed play as they did for a good long time during the day.

At 2 p.m. I was just finishing up a meager lunch of yet more banana bread and cheese when I heard the cannon start up again. The battle was on! I gathered up Savannah's camera, an apple and my knife and started off...I did get some pictures of the battle and I will attempt to use them to describe it--that is fairly hard because there was such a wide expanse of land with action everywhere...and the battle was two hours long. Below is a slideshow with the "narration":

During the battle, there were modern machines (out of sight) busily packing and repacking the muddy roads. Thanks to them, the reenactors were able to get out that evening. At the end of the battle (around 4), Savannah and I went back to our tent and she took the keys and went to get our truck. I started packing and piling stuff in front of the tent.  I struck it after she got back with the truck quite a while later. There was a stough going to and from the camps. Anyway, we got out about six. I had left my 'reenacting' boots on (and therefore my knee socks) and Savannah still had on her wash dress (minus the hoops). We drove to Fort Oglethrope where we had supper at a Mexican resturant and then spent the night. We did get a few odd looks... :)

Here are the rest of the 'non-battle' pictures. We didn't get too many...

We got home (one of the two, you know) Monday evening safely and soundly and
unpacked yesterday. I also ended up mowing some yesterday as well...and now that I finally got this finished (I started yesterday) I have other things I need to do! See you around!

Late this afternoon, Daddy and I headed out to brand and ear mark the heifers. While I was escorting the girls into the hopper pen, Daddy started to get set up. I heard him say, "I've got a problem..."

When I came over, I saw him fiddling with the propane tank. After a little more messing around, he determined that the regulator (I think that is what he said) was broken. That being the case, we couldn't heat the irons, so we were unable to brand the heifers.

So we decided to just go ahead and ear mark them and nevermind the branding--this time around at anyrate. I had the job of running the girls down the chute; I managed the tail-gate on the first one, but after that Daddy worked both tail gate and head-catch. I still got the squeeze job.

To describe the operation a little better, I first went into the hopper pen and parted one of the heifers out (I got two by accident once and that caused some minor problems). Next I followed her down the chute until I got to what Daddy calls the "waist gate". I'd slide through there (having to open and close it), and then hurry up to the squeeze chute. Daddy would already have the tail gate down and I'd prod the girls in the rump with my hot-shot and as soon as they got their heads through the head-catch Daddy would slam it and I'd squeeze them down. On a two of them, I had to kind of swing underneath the handle because of the size of the girls and how heartily they were kicking.

Daddy would then mark the ears and then we'd do a reverse of the process, followed by the opening of the front gate of the chute and away they went--first Big Red, then Whitey, then Blondie (she was the hardest to get), and finally August.

And that's how come it's only half a success...and I think I'd better mosey into the kitchen and seriously think about supper. I know I'm not the only one who's hungry.

I was already awake at 6:15 when Savannah pushed open my door. I hadn't realized that I'd gone back to sleep after waking up at 4:30...

I rolled out of bed, made my coffee and read my Bible (I think last time we worked cows I didn't get my Scripture read). Then I crawled into my clothes and meandered out to feed the animals and saddle Snip. I thought for a minute I was going to have to go get him, but I guess he heard me singing (I figured he'd hear me better if I was belting out Irish and Folk songs than if I tried to keep whistling at him) and realized that I had "FOOD!!", so he came running up.

I rode him into the yard, tied him to the tree, and went into to fix my own breakfast. Once I finished that, I trotted out to un-wire a couple gates in the pens. I forgot to do that Saturday. I also used that as an excuse to check how wet the ground was and try to choose the best route for Tommy's truck--the only 4x4 out of the three we usually use.

Tommy and Ricky arrived about the time I was quarter of the way back. I trotted into the yard and said my how-de-do's and minutes later was on the way back to the pasture. It took a few minutes to get the girls moving toward the pens, but once they did, they did okay--though all told today, they were a little more boogerish than any other time I've worked them with the W brothers.

I tied Snip in the loading chute--since that wasn't going to be used for a while and it was in the shade (Ricky's suggestion--it worked great!) Ricky put me on the hopper gate this time. Savannah was on the beef gate (I'm afraid she had to work almost too hard today!) Tommy was our worming man again (as usual), and Ricky had the job of all the footwork of moving cows. I did a little of that too, but not over much--though it seems like I climbed that fence an awful lot!

I got a badly jammed thumb trying to help back Moon-Bat up the chute to put her in one of the holding pens. (She got by the beef gate.) I'm not exactly sure what happened but I do know that that red stick whamed me a good one and that my thumb joint still hurts. I know I didn't break it because if I had, I would have cried instead of just thinking about it, and besides, I could (and still can) bend it without any extra pain. Also, it didn't really swell up.

Anyway, we worked the cows through, leaving all the calves (including the heifers I weaned earlier this year--they need branding and ear-marking) and the two cows we were going to sell. Then we worked through the calves. I cut out all but 5 or 6, I can't remember exactly.

After that, we parted out the heifers--I decided to sell the lighter red one because she is kind of spooky. That leaves me with four: "Big Red", "August", "Whitey", and "Blondie"...nothing overly crazy on the names there. Most of the cows don't have names, but it seems like with me, if I'm around critters (other than chickens), they end up with names because I constantly talk to them.

Parting done, we headed back to the house. Tommy and Ricky went to see if Mr. Al's folks were done with the trailer (we always borrow his trailer) and I went in and watched most of Ironside before they returned. I didn't get lunch in between either.

We loaded the animals and went to market. Seems like everybody and his kin was there today. I don't think I've ever seen that many trailers there! (Maybe because we usually go Wednesday?) We've never been so low on the selling list either! Lot number 77! Whee! I think the lowest I ever remember was 50-something.

We got back, dropped off Mr. Al's trailer and truck (nice truck, by the way), and Tommy and Ricky brought me home. As soon as I waved them off, I sat down here and ate my lunch. (Okay, so 'ate' is a little mild. I scarfed down my lunch like a ravenous hound! I'm glad nobody could see me as I chowed down and read the lastest Proverbs Perspective.)

Once I was done eating (speaking of which, I think I could stand to dig something else up to eat), I went back out and hopped on Snip and went and opened all the gates. Since it is so wet, and I'm not going to be here, I decided that I would go ahead and take the cows out of their summer rotation schedule. That also means Daddy won't have that one extra thing to do on his list...

Then I unsaddled Snip (who by the way behaved himself pretty decently today--he didn't offer to buck with me--which I greatly appreciate!) By the time I had all the tack (except for the saddle) gathered up, he was happily rolling about, scratching his back in the grass.

I came in, showered, washed the dishes, and made my coffee and then sat down here to write this. I'll have to shove off and pick up the check sometime in this upcoming hour, unless Daddy does it--which since he's out that way anyhow...well...I might just call him and see if he'll pick it up (if they've gotten through to #77 yet).

Now, if y'all will excuse me, this cowgirl with a bum thumb is going to go raid the refridgerator...

Hey, Mama...you remember that flannel night-gown you were going to make me for our reenacting because my other one was embarressingly threadbare? Well, Savannah got it cut out and sewed up today and the size amused me to such an extent that I had to have pictures! :D

It fits great.

It's comfortable

It's big and roomy.

And I look like I'm wearing a tent! :D (True, I tried it on over my jumper...)

I imagine after a wash or two it'll 'drape' better and not stick out to the sides so stiffly.

Anyway, I like it. :)

P.S. I kind of needed the giggle I got out of this--so I thought I'd share it. :)

For some reason, Friday the 13th's have a bad name...I've been on the verge of being crabby a couple of times today, but not enough to earn the 13th it's bad name.

Today was pretty busy...not counting the time we sat in the health department waiting room for Savannah to get a TB test (dr.'s orders) and me to get my tetinus shot. I was just going to get a plain ol' tetinus shot, but they were out of that so I went ahead and got the one with the whooping cough and dyptheria vaccinations included. Either way, it was still more expensive than Savannah's test. The nurse reminded me of Aunt Laurie...she kind of sounded like her and kind of looked like her (same dimples!) It's always rather interesting when a complete stranger reminds you of a relative.

I got my shot before Savannah got her blood drawn. The last time I had shots I was around 7 or 8 (I think Katherine and I got shots when we moved to Fort Polk--but I don't remember if it was before or after we got there). The nurse told me to relax as she swabbed my arm a couple of inches down from my shoulder. She said, "You have hard muscles!" and I chuckled a little bit when I said, "That arm is probably harder..." "Are you left handed?" "No, but that arm is stronger." (At least I think it is...my left hand is definitely stronger because of the guitar--which I have not been playing very consistantly lately.)

Among the other things I did today was pick out my clothes and shoes and belts (can't forget those!) and make a list of things. I also dashed off to our place to grab our camping blankets and a few other things. I tried to work up a good list of things I should not forget. I gathered some of my film stuff and organized some papers...and I finally got the latest two pairs of socks listed on the Rebel Gray Socketeer website!

My plan of action for tomorrow (if I can keep myself from getting engrossed in the Saturday westerns--I'm going to try real hard...) is to do my usual stuff (i.e. bathroom, vaccum) as well as some non-usual stuff--like trapping the cows in preperation for working them Monday. I'll go ahead and saddle Snip in the morning and let him stand under the tree until mid-afternoon (the cows seem to pretty much go into the trap area of their own accord anyway). I won't mow because it will still be too wet.

The count-down to D-day has started and Lord willing, they'll be busy day's. :) You've already heard my plan for tomorrow; Sunday we join the church; Monday we work cows and there will also be a couple of doctor appointments; Tuesday is packing day; and Wednesday--we hit the road!! (You won't hear from me again after that until probably the following Tuesday or Wednesday--and expect reenactment pictures!!)

They call it "Patriot's Day" these days...I'm not exactly sure why. When I hear "Patriot's Day" I always have to stop and think before I realize what is being referred to.

However, you say 9/11...and my mind flashes back to the morning a little girl, almost ten, crawled out of the bottom bunk and wandered out of the pink room she shared with her big sister. I remember the horror, the shock, and the fear that that little girl felt as she seated herself on the well-worn gray couch and stared at the building that was on fire just minutes before the second airplane plowed into the other tower.

I do not remember if that little girl prayed, though she probably did in some odd sort of way. I remember watching the buildings crumple, the reporter's screaming and yelling, I remember the hole in the Pentagon, and the pit in the Pennsylvania field were Flight 93 when down.

I imagine that little girl probably shared a vague wonder with her sisters (and other military children), if that meant that their Daddy was going to have to go to war. As it turns out--daddies did go to war. Ours never deployed, but he was an important part all the same, training young men how to fight.

In some ways, life was never the same again...my family escaped with no personal loss. Others were left heartbroken, scarred, and maimed for life. For these, on this 12th anniversery of one of the most horrific days our country (and most certainly that my generation) has seen, we should pray.

So then, with solomn prayers for those fellow countrymen, for our troops, and for our country, I leave you for today...

Savannah finally got both our  1860's "wash" dresses completed! We got dressed up and took pictures today...as well as having me put on a few other garments to either make sure they still fit, or determine what needs to be done to correct a particular problem (like corset string emerging while dancing... o.O)

BUT....I know you really would rather look at the pictures than listen to me remark on clothing woes...

In other news, Snip was a horrid rat this morning...and I nearly actually lost my temper at him. I was a bear, but I didn't totally lose it.

I did a lot of running around town and such odd piddly things like that...I wouldn't say that I had an unproductive day, though I wouldn't say I had an overly productive day either....

After successfully completing the mowing (I started yesterday and quit early since I was feeling rather beat), I decided that I might as well finish one of my two current projects. I therefore gathered my supplies and went to work. The initial measurements on the seats were roughly 42 inches long and 10 wide. I folded them over and sewed up the sides so the finish strip was more like 21 inches long and 8.5 wide.

I sure had fun putting these together...and if I ever make some more, they'll be better because I'll know what I'm doing!

I watched this movie for the first time last night (it's been sitting on my shelf for over six months or more) and found it very good...it is not a "happy" film, but, boy, is it powerful!

I had difficulty in going to sleep last night because of it and even woke up a couple of times in the night to have "Vive Cristo Ray!!" come rattle around in my brains again.

To say I "enjoyed" it wouldn't be quite right--one does not exactly enjoy films of this sort; but on the other hand how would one put it? I found it encouraging, heartbreaking, and meaty. Still...I don't intend on watching it again in the near future--and when I do watch it again, you may rest assured that I will not do it in the evening!!