Blog Archives

"One Thing"

12/31/2014

If you have ever watched Columbo (an old TV detective show), you may be hearing Peter Fualk's distinctive, "Just one more thing..." However, that is not the philosophy behind "one thing", regardless of how amusing the apparently bumbly Columbo can be.

My mother coined our "one thing" in order to help her household of Lymies to be a little more productive. I, at any rate, seem to have difficulty completing anything. I frequently cannot place my finger on anything at the end of the day that I can say was really productive--or I simply cannot remember what I did. This is where the "one thing" comes in.

At the beginning of the day (or the night before as the case may be), we set ourselves one task to complete. Once we complete that--we set ourselves our next "one thing".

Yesterday, I moved a small whiteboard off the refrigerator and stuck in on the air duct running up the wall next to my desk. (Yes, there is a metal air duct running through the dining room and into my room that is not covered by dry wall.) I find that lists are helpful...and that I tend to bury the ones I write on paper. So I thought the whiteboard would be useful.

I scribbled my "one thing" (which was actually very related conglomeration of three things) up on the board, plus an all caps reminder of something very important. I can see this board from my seat at the dinner table.

And you know what? I got my "one thing" done!

Now...about that then. :)

Forgive me if you find this a bit morbid, but I spent the day working on the recording of my Granddaddy's funeral.

I took the following two pictures with the still camera in my HMC40 before the funeral started and before I turned the video recording on.

They closed the casket (and slipped the casket spray in next to his hands) before the funeral actually started.

I do not know how long funerals usually run, but Granddaddy's was close to an hour (give or take some). We sang twice, one of the songs two of my cousins and I played our guitars. It would have made him so proud. :) The pastor read the obituary (which I think Aunt Laurie wrote?) and gave a short sermonette. Three of the granddaughters eulogized. Savannah's eulogy was pre-recorded. (Later on, Tommy and Ricky told me that they could tell how much better she was doing just from that short little recording.)

At the very end, my aunt and one of my cousins played echo Taps. And if you want to know when I really, really wanted my hankie and didn't have it...it was this:

Well, anyway...what I did was adjust volumes (i.e. turn the singing/music down and turn up the speakers) and inserted the video of Savannah's eulogy since you can't see the totality of the church media screens as well as the photo of Granddaddy that we had on the wall for his final farewell, singing "It is Finished".

Then, I went in and reassembled the slideshow (thank-you, Katherine for taking the time out of your day to turn all those slides into JPG's for me! [I don't have PowerPoint on either of my machines.]) It only ended up with five of the songs out of...ten? because the slideshow was shorter than the music playlist and so that looped as the music played during the viewing. Anyway, I put the whole of it on a DVD...the funeral and the slideshow. For folks who want the full music playlist and/or the slideshow, something else will have to be worked out (like a USB drive or a data disk). I would, in the future like to put at least some of his songs up on YouTube, but I have another project (or two) to finish before I seriously think about that.

However, to give you a taste of the slideshow, here are some of my favorite pictures from it (clicking on the photos makes them larger so you can see them better; along with the captions):

There. I have tackled my first "one thing" of the day. My next "one thing" is another one of those multi-faceted ones...Cow Cavalry related!

Blessings on your day!

Racheal

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The Church of Christ, Part 7

12/28/2014

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Well, with at least a month off from this, I'm back--with the final installment of Chapter 15!

The Great Commission: Of four modern errors.

First, theological liberals pervert it to apply only to social and political involvement, consistent generally with a Marxist analysis. Second, fundamentalists narrow it to apply exclusively to saving as many individual souls as possible from this evil life before the rapture. Third, there are those who, by denying the free offer of the gospel, cause the Great Commission to appear harsh, thereby robbing it of its force and drawing power. Fourth, hypocrites neglect it or evade it by finding both doctrinal and practical excuses to excuse their apathy. (570-571)

Our understanding of the Great Commission determines our response to the crises and needs of our society and culture. Disciples of Karl Barth along with Pietists and many Fundamentalists neglect culture because they do not believe that the gospel will transform society. Those influenced by Humanism adjust to the culture around
them because of their philosophy of evolution. Marxists see the only solution to society’s problems as revolution, due to their dialectic philosophy of history. Consistent, Bible-believing Christians work to reconstruct culture and society in the power of the Holy Spirit, directed by the Word of God, to the glory of God, because they believe that Christ came to rescue culture and history, not to discard them. (571)

One of the first things to be noticed in the Great Commission is its UNIVERSALISM. Notice: All authority… everywhere… all nations…every creature… all that Christ commanded....The gospel is for the whole man, the whole of mankind, and the whole natural order. Since Jesus speaks of His own unlimited authority, He commits us to an unlimited task, with the assurance of His unlimited companionship. (571)

There are multiple aspects considered in relation to the Great Commission, the first being Christ's claim to universal authority.

“Authority” is the prerogative to do something or the right over something,
backed by real power. It is the right and ability to act, denoting power that is decisive and authority that is final. (572)

His authority “in heaven” includes His sovereign control over all demonic activity (Revelation 6:8; 9:3, 10, 19; 16:9). His authority “on earth” includes His sovereign and gracious bestowal of eternal life (John 17:2; Matt. 11:27) and His ultimate authority over all human institutions, such as the family, church, and state, to which all these institutional authorities are accountable, as “the ruler of the kings
of the earth” (Rev. 1:5; 19:16). (572)

Thus, the Great Commission is to be seen as the glorious declaration of Christ’s triumphant sovereignty over the universe. (572)

Second, Christ's mandate of world discipleship.

“The Person of Jesus is central. Discipleship involved acceptance of his authority, inwardly by believing in him and outwardly by obeying him. There is a supremely personal union implied everywhere in the New Testament when the word [disciple]… is used. There can be nothing in the life of the disciple that is apart from the Lord and his life.” 356 Therefore, discipleship is at the very heart of Christian living. By it the disciple shows that he lives under the grace and lordship of Jesus Christ. This means that when someone responds to Christ’s call, “Follow Me,” he will invite other men to Christ, saying, “Follow Him with me.” 356 DeRidder, Discipling the Nations, 186. (573-574)

The mission is not completed until we have made THE WORLD’S NATIONS CHRIST’S DISCIPLES. (574)

This has three sub-commands...and a strategy for completion.

[1: Person-winning] We are sent to evangelize, that is, to present Jesus Christ to sinful men that, through the power of the Holy Spirit, they may come to put their trust in God through Him, to accept Him as their Savior, and to serve Him as their King in His Church. ALL Christians are to be Christ’s witnesses (Acts 8:4; Rom. 10:9) vocalizing (by mouth) and visualizing (by life) the gospel of Christ. Therefore, our goal in evangelism is clear: in the power of the Spirit to compel sinners to stop worshipping the creature and to begin worshipping the Creator through Christ (Rom. 1:25; Acts 14:15). (574)

[2: Family-winning] At the heart of God’s plan to restore the earth by the Great
Commission, is the restoration of the family: “The house of the wicked will be destroyed, but the tent of the upright will flourish” (Prov. 14:11)....By example, influence and education, we must assist families to become solid Christian families, prospering and secure under God’s blessings (Deut. 28). The prosperity and safety of the Christian family rest upon it recapturing those basic powers given to it by God Himself: the control of welfare, children, education, property and inheritance. (575-576)

Baptism is the public confession that there is a Lord whose commandments take priority over everything else in the life of the believer and his family; and the public initiation into that covenant community of all who profess faith in Christ along with their children. (576)

The command to teach in this Commission (28:20a) also contains an emphasis on the family. Parents, assisted by the church, are to educate themselves and their children in all facets of life from a thoroughly Biblical perspective (Deuteronomy 6:1f)....Christian education, then, is not optional....It is an essential part of the Great Commission. (576)

[3: Culture-winning] We are called by Christ to make Christian disciples out of the nations of the world, so that they will be Christian nations with Christian cultures full of Christian people. For this reason, Christ calls us to bring the power, direction and discipline of the Word of the Lord to bear upon the nations themselves—politically (Rom. 13:1–7), economically (Rom. 13:8), industrially (Eph. 6:5–9; 1 Tim. 5:18), educationally (Col. 2:3), morally (Matt. 5:27–32), socially (Luke 6:29), judicially and legally (1 Cor. 6:2). (577)

This comprehensive approach to the discipling of the world which the Great Commission commands, brings out the unity of the Dominion Mandate of Genesis 1:28: “And God said to them, ‘Be fruitful and multiply; and fill the earth, and subdue it, and rule over… every living thing that moves on the earth,” and the Great Commission of Matthew 28:18–20. The Great Commission is Christ’s
restatement of the Dominion Mandate, taking into consideration fallen man’s need of redemption. (577)

Culture-winning means working to reconstruct Christian civilizations based on Christ and His Word in the place of anti-Christian civilizations. (577)

"Do your utmost to make the nations Christian nations.…Christ the Mediator is setting up a kingdom in the world, bring the nations to be his subjects; setting up a school, bring the nations to be his scholars; raising an army for the carrying
on of the war against the powers of darkness, enlist the nations of the earth under his banner." 361. Matthew Henry, Matthew Henry’s Commentary on the Whole Bible,New Modern Edition, 6 vols. (Peabody, MA: Hendrickson Publishers, 1991), 5:362. (578)

[4: The Strategy] Our first strategy is SEPARATION from the “world” unto God’s purposes. This is not isolation. We must involve ourselves in this world of lost people; but we must also separate ourselves from the priorities, saviors,
worldviews, behaviors and lifestyles of those in rebellion against God; and we must be separated to the revealed ways of God in the Bible, realizing our highest joy in glorifying God and enjoying Him. As Christians, we must constantly maintain the antithesis between the church and the world—keeping the differences clear and uncompromised between the covenant people of God and
those societies built upon a principle of revolt against God in every area of life and thought. (578)

Our second strategic element is INVASION and INFILTRATION of society: “out of the salt-shaker into the world.”...We must be everywhere, speaking out on every critical issue, on all fronts, so that those opposed to Christ cannot escape us
or the presence of our Head, Jesus Christ, Whose power is exercised through us.
The third strategic element is the EDUCATION of Christian adults and their children in our Christian and covenantal heritage, in the application of Biblical Law for all of life, in the sovereignty of God’s grace, and in the victory-orientation of Christ’s kingdom: “teaching them to observe all that I commanded you” (Matt. 28:20).
The fourth element is for each Christian to PRACTICE 2 Corinthians
10:3–6.
"For though we walk in the flesh, we do not war according to the flesh, for the weapons of our warfare are not of the flesh, but divinely powerful for the destruction of fortresses. We are destroying speculations and every lofty thing raised up against the knowledge of God, and we are taking every thought captive
to the obedience of Christ, and we are ready to punish all disobedience, whenever your obedience is complete." (579)

Third, Christ's sovereign promise His constant, active presence.

[1] When He encouraged His disciples with these words—I am with you, He was claiming to be the God of the Covenant Himself, Jehovah incarnate....The Messianic prophecies of the Bible...frequently identify the Messiah as fully God, as well as fully man, as the Sprout of the Lord as well as the Sprout of Jesse, as the Son of God as well as the Son of David, as “the LORD,” i.e., Jehovah, clothed in our humanity. (580)

[2] His promise—“I will be with you”—is the guarantee of His presence with His church forever. (580)

[3] By His promise, Jesus is identifying Himself as the “Warrior of Israel” and “Captain of the hosts of the Lord” who leads His hosts into battle, who gives them victory over their enemies and success in their conquest of the land. (580)

To whom is the Great Commission directed?

...the Great Commission was addressed to the officers of the Church, and therefore to the Church....only the church has the responsibility for the Great Commission.
Para-church organizations were not given this authority, responsibility or promise. (581)

We switch topics here slightly, addressing next the relation between Church and State. [The Lord Jesus, as king and head of his church, has therein appointed a government in the hand of church-officers, distinct from the civil magistrate (WCF, XXX, i).]

First, therefore, the institutional, functional, and jurisdictional separation:

Both church and state are of Divine origin, and, although they are different institutions with different officers, functions and jurisdictions, both are under the same Divine King and accountable to the same Biblical revelation....God has given the state the power of the sword to enforce Christ’s supremacy in civil matters (Rom. 13); and He has given the church the power of the keys of the kingdom to enforce Christ’s supremacy in spiritual and moral matters (Matt. 16, 18).

"From the very nature of the state it cannot, without departing from its proper place, usurp the office or assume the jurisdiction of the Church, because it has received no authority to perform, and is not competent to exercise, spiritual functions; and, on the other hand, the Church has no power to assume to itself the powers and prerogatives of the civil magistrate, because those powers and prerogatives, being civil and coercive, are wholly alien to its character and jurisdiction. The church did not originate with, nor is it subordinate to, the state, being a holy commonwealth under Christ; nor did the state originate with, nor is it subordinate to the church, being a civil commonwealth under Christ.

From the very nature of the state it cannot, without departing from its proper place,
usurp the office or assume the jurisdiction of the Church, because it has received no authority to perform, and is not competent to exercise, spiritual functions; and, on the other hand, the Church has no power to assume to itself the powers and prerogatives of the civil magistrate, because those powers and prerogatives, being civil and coercive, are wholly alien to its character and jurisdiction. The church did not originate with, nor is it subordinate to, the state, being a holy commonwealth under Christ; nor did the state originate with, nor is it subordinate to the church,
being a civil commonwealth under Christ." (586-587)

Second, the interdependence of Church and State under God's Law:

Christ is the Head of the church and the King of the state. In both, His
written Word is the source of law. (587)

Thirdly, the duty of the State toward the Church:

The state is assigned the duty by God to be the civil protector of the church of Christ....As the guardian of the church, the civil government is to be God’s Avenger of evildoers to terrorize them and to punishment them for their criminal behavior, for the benefit and protection of good people (Rom. 13:1f). (588)

The state is to protect the church, not only from those who would injure her, but also from those who would hinder her from her world mission of preaching the gospel to every creature. The civil government must guard “[t]he full and free and unrestricted power [of Christianity] to take possession of this world in the name of Christ, to the exclusion of any other form of faith and worship.” 369 Bannerman, The Church of Christ, 1:141. (588)

Using the Westminster Standards, Dr. Morecraft delves into this aspect a little deeper.

...according to the Confession, the church is not under the state, the state is not under the church, and neither the church nor the state may with impunity usurp the functions and powers of the other or disregard the jurisdiction of each. (589)

The point this paragraph is making is: Whereas the state has no power WITHIN the church, God has given it power ABOUT the church. It has NO authority in the church, but it does have jurisdiction concerning the church, or about the church. These two ideas are vastly different, and they must not be confused. The state has no jurisdiction within the church, but it does have a God-given responsibility to promote and advance the interests of the church. (590)

First, the state is to take order for those objects at which it aims....It means “to provide for, to attend to, to take care to accomplish,” language far from implying
the usurpation of authority over the church by the state.

Second, in order to carry out its God-given duties with reference to the church, the state has the power to call synods.

Third, the state has the power to be present at synods which it calls to meet.

Fourth, the state has the authority not only to be present at meetings of synods, but also to provide that whatsoever is transacted in them be according to the mind of God....The clause meant "to make it an object of care and attention generally, that what is done be done according to the word of God." 374. Bannerman, The Church of Christ, 1:180–81. (590-591)

Four, the duty of the Church toward the State:

The church has a prophetic responsibility toward the state: when the state strays from the Law of God, the church is to call it to repentance and to show it the right way, or else receive God’s judgment....Martin Luther, in describing the church’s ministry to the state, said that the church is to “lick the fur,” (not the feet), of the state. In other words, as a cat is constantly licking its own fur to keep it shiny and clean, so with the preaching of the Word of God , the church is to “keep the state clean,” i.e., obedient to Biblical Law and the supremacy of the triune God. (592)

Here Dr. Morecraft when into a detailed argument against Roman Catholicisms claim on infallibility. Unfortunately, I didn't take notes...suffice to say that it was summed up that their claims to do not hold up and that no church is infallible. Only God is infallible and we receive His infallible Word through the Holy Spirit.

The final section in Chapter 15 was a brief history showing how Presbyterianism was the "model and motive for the U.S. Constitution".

Although the radical Thomas Paine claimed to be the father of the American Revolution, Declaration of Independence and the U.S. Constitution, Daniel Webster was correct when he said that the American Revolution could not have lived a
single day under any well founded suggestion of possessing a tendency adverse to the Christian faith. Even Thomas Jefferson and Benjamin Franklin, neither known for their staunch belief in orthodox Christianity, felt it to be unavoidably necessary, in order to give spirit to the enterprise, and moral heroism of the people, to bring into operation the principle of Christianity. This was the electric power which
made men stand erect upon the basis of liberty. (624)

The adoption of the U.S. Constitution with its federal (covenantal) plan and republican form may have been the most important event in modern history....It gave an example of a great people not only emancipating themselves, but governing themselves without either a monarch to control, or an aristocracy to restrain. It demonstrated, for the first time in the history of the world, contrary to
all the predictions of statesmen, that a great nation when duly prepared for the task is capable of self-government—in other words, that a purely republican form of government can be founded and maintained in a country of vast extent, and peopled by millions of inhabitants. (627)

The fundamental principle of the Constitution is the vesting of the supreme authority, executive and legislative, in the people, who themselves are governed in all things by the Word of God, to be exercised in every case by their chosen representatives—in no case, except in their elections, by themselves....It is another, and an essential principle, if indeed it be not involved in the former, that the choice of representatives and a chief magistrate is the only elective function exercised by the people—all civil and military officers, and especially all judicial functionaries
being appointed by the executive government. (627)

CONFEDERATION and REPRESENTATION are the two essential principles which lie at the basis of the American Constitution, and both of these principles are Presbyterian principles. FIRST, in the Presbyterian system—as over against the congregationalist system for example, with its autonomous, unrelated local churches—there is the principle of “Connectionalism” or “Confederacy,” wherein local churches are structurally connected together by a common confession and form of government, called Presbytery.

SECOND, Presbyterian government is republican, i.e., representative government. The members of the Presbyterian Church elect elders to represent and administer the constitution of the Church, the Bible.

Therefore, because of the influence of Presbyterianism, the U.S. Constitution created: (1) a confederacy of state governments united in a federal government, each with well-defined and limited authority, powers and jurisdiction; and (2) a constitutional, representative republic, wherein the civil magistrates were elected by the people and the states to represent, defend, and administer, not the whims
and fancies of the majority of people, but constitutional law based on a Christian moral order. (628)

Not only were the American War of Independence and the Declaration of Independence inspired by Presbyterian principles, and the U.S. Constitution based on them and given its character by them, but after the War of 1776 was over, when the leaders in the states came to settle the form of government in their states, they simply copied into every state constitution the simple elements of representative republicanism found in the Presbyterian system. It is a matter of history that cannot be denied that Presbyterianism, as found in the Bible and in the standards of the several Presbyterian churches, defined the character of our free institutions. (631)

And that is the end of Chapter 15!!!

Racheal

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Mislaid?

12/27/2014

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It's funny how one thought leads to another (or in this case, to a memory).

I was wondering where I had "mislaid" my make-up. After all, I knew I brought it back with me because I remembered tucking it someplace. Only problem was, I couldn't remember where "someplace" was...

And I then had what in a film would be shot as a flashback...

Here it was, the morning of Granddaddy's funeral and I couldn't find my make-up anywhere. I looked in all the more sensible places that a girl might pack her make-up...but I couldn't find it. I began to suspect that I had accidentally left it on the counter up north.
So, I borrowed Mama's--replete with eyeliner...on the bottom...which I did not like, but couldn't really get wiped off. (I thought I looked weird; I kind of tend towards the low-make-up/no make-up approach anyway.)

Then, oh, about a week and a half later, I found the stuff. In my guitar music bag of all places! What normal guitar playing female doesn't pack her "fixin's" in her music bag??

Well, apparently, I didn't follow that same brilliant rule of thumb on the trip back up. I guess I thought someplace else would be more sensible. Instead, I packed it in...get this...a shoe box. But not any ol' shoe box. A shoe box with summer sandals in it. A box, that, if I hadn't had a fuzzy notion that I might, just might have put the facial goop in it, that I probably would not have opened again until April.

And there you have it. Don't trust Racheal to keep track of her own beautifiers. She's bound to stick it anyplace but her suitcase...and then forget in which of her tangent bags she poked it.

Bows and exits.

Racheal

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Christmas 2014

12/26/2014

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I went to bed Christmas Eve with a case of meningitis...and I woke up Christmas morning with my Lyme throwing an all out hissy fit that lasted all day long. You know I'm not well when food is repulsive to me. However, I will spare you all the gory details. Just suffice to say that my digestive system was attempting to sabotage my enjoyment of the day (oh, how my stomach hurt!!) and that I had a fever on and off all day along with the stiff and sore neck and head that comes with the meningitis.

However, for all that, being rather miserable and all, I had a pretty decent day. I even sang (in a weird sort of voice) while curled up on the couch.

Everybody got up kind of late (that is what happens when it's so overcast that the rising of the sun doesn't make over much of a dint in the clouds)...as previously mentioned I woke up miserable, a condition I would carry with me in my flesh for the remainder of the day (and to be honest, I still don't feel in tip-top shape). However, I determined that I was going to enjoy myself (as far as possible) and took the first step towards that in the form of dressing myself in something other than my nightgown. I was going to at least look half way decent! (Forget the make-up though. I wasn't going to go that far.)

I returned to my spot on the couch and snuggled under the blanket were I would stay, more or less, until roughly 2 o'clock when we went out to the apartment for Christmas Dinner with my grandparents, were I requisitioned Grandpa's big overstuffed power chair. I tried to eat, but only managed a spoonful of green beans and some cranberry salad. It's almost scary to be off one's feed that kind of badly.

However, to return to earlier in the day...

Savannah flipped the lid back on the piano and started playing...and I started singing (I don't know if howling like a puppy might not be a better description) or humming if I couldn't remember the words. I am positive I sounded terrible, but no one complained, so I guess I wasn't irritating anyone too badly.

I think it was around 10:30 when everyone was "ready" and Katherine started producing stuff from under our very fat, almost huggable looking tree. We have a tradition in our house that the youngest kid passes out the gifts. I think, maybe, that part of the reasoning behind it in the beginning was the teach patience and a giving spirit (you know, littles tend to like getting more than they do giving...at least I did back when I was tiny); however, I'm just speculating since I don't really know why the tradition was initiated.

The following are slideshows...

"Meet Mrs. Fledge"

This was funny...as I unwrapped the package, I saw it was an Ariat boot box, so I said in a goofy sort of way "Oh, I got a boot-box!" (along the lines of the cereal or saltine cracker boxes that Grandma tends to package things in)...thing is, I completely forgot that I have only had one brand-new pair of Fat Baby boots--and the box is sitting on my shelf in Florida! So when Mama made some remark, I realized that "wait...are there really boots in here???" I like 'em, hot pink stitching and all! :)

Daddy

Mama

Savannah

Katherine

Me (Bear in mind that I didn't feel well...)

"The Coveralls"

When Mama, Savannah, and Grandma went to see Grandma's cousin Helen in the nursing home, I came in and amused myself in bed with my computer. I really didn't feel good, so I was thankful that the cats obliged me by not pouncing on my middle. When they came back, it was time for supper (of which I once again ate very, very little) and then the gift exchange with the grandparents. I think Grandpa liked his books, jeans, and heated blanket. Grandma was pleased with the pretty dolly we got for her at Fort Pierce. I knew she would like it. :)

The Evening

While I cannot say that it was the most physically comfortable Christmas I have ever had, I still think it was a good one... :)

Racheal

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Merry Christmas!!

12/24/2014

1 Comment

Dear Friends,

I hope your Christmas is one of joy and thankfulness for the unsurpassable treasure of the birth of our Savior! Amazing love that brought the Lord of all creation to earth to live and die for His chosen ones...

I also hope you have an enjoyable day spent surrounded by family love. The laughter that traditionally echos through our house on Christmas morning is amongst the greatest gifts God has given to us.

Merry Christmas from my house to yours!!

Racheal

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Of Wednesday, On Thursday

12/18/2014

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Today, I feel pretty useless. I guess I shouldn't have pushed the dead lawn mower up the driveway yesterday; that tuckered me out. (Drive is 1/4 mile long.) Daddy and Tommy and Ricky were right...they could have come and hauled it with one of the three trucks and one (running) tractor on the property yesterday. Ahem...

My logic was that I had to walk up the driveway anyway, so why not go ahead and take the rascal with me?

So anyway, we can see how once again my stubbornness in the long run wasn't particularly the smartest move. At least I had the brains (from experience) not to slug down the whole bottle of water Tommy gave me right off in one drink. :D If you've never made yourself nauseous drinking too much water at one time while overheated, believe me, it isn't worth it.

I spent the majority of the day outside. I got the job Ricky set out for me done...and done well, according to him. That consisted of mowing the west strip of fence-line so when the new fence goes in, the wire doesn't have to be pulled through the weeds. I took it a step farther and mowed more than just the two passes he asked for. I went ahead and mowed all the weedy mess under the half dozen big oaks along there. (You might notice down here that the really nasty weeds take over under the trees.) I think I got enough dirt in my eyes and nose to fill out my 9 pounds of dirt for the year.

I protected my gun better than I did myself. In other words, I ran the mower with my left hand and kept my right one clasped over the top of my holster. I realized at one point, when I had just shifted the machine and had returned my hand to the butt of my revolver, that someone had just driven by and was looking at me. It made me wonder if they thought I was being aggressive...particularly as I'm sure I didn't look exactly pleasant with my squinty, tight-mouthed concentration on what I was doing.

I did a small amount of help fixing a very short stretch of fence up by the house. I got to pound in a few staples after I brought two new posts from the barn and tamped them in. Of course, Ricky had to make some goofy remarks about me almost catching him with the tamping bar. (Granted, had I gotten him with it, it would have been nasty.) I found out that Ricky is right handed...and his Daddy was like me, right handed, but left-eyed. From there, he speculated that maybe the difficulty I sometimes have in landing hammer blows where I intend them to land may be because my dominant eye is on the opposite side as my dominant hand. (Mama tells me that as a baby I actually favored my left hand, but I went right handed in emulation of my sister... :D) I have, believe it or not, actually used a hammer left handed a time or two. It's very weird feeling. When using an axe however, I tend to hold it the way I would a rifle. Left hand at the base of the handle, right up near the head. (Is that backwards for a righty?)

All told, it seems like I did a deal of drifting, but I also kept busy. I cannot claim honors in the kitchen yesterday...I made breakfast and that was it (other than dishes twice--yes, I ran out after lunch and left the lunch dishes to my mother). I have, this past week, done some of the cooking. It is rather interesting how I start out for a day or so kind of blank about what to make and then I get to a point were I can walk in and just "do it" without having to fret about it. Oh, and I haven't burned anything all week either! ;) (I did about take a fingernail off this morning though!)

After eating supper last night, of which I ate too much, I began to feel rather unwell. I had a touch of fever (hmmm, I wonder if that was the artimisian? Because I got to feeling a little fevery after breakfast this morning too...and I took artimisian at both meals) and my stomach was a little unsettled. I looked pretty awful, I can tell you that. My eyes were red (dirt probably) and somewhat swollen...my 'stoned' look, if you know what I mean. By the time I actually turned the light off and went to bed, I was feeling a little better.

Mama and Daddy took off this morning to haul some stuff to Habitat for Humanity...but first they had to go to our place and unload the truck. We had a pile in the living room over there of "get rid of" stuff too, so they'll take that stuff in first and then come take out whatever goes from here. I'm hungry and if they don't get home soon, I will go ahead and eat. Mama gets on to me if I wait too long and thereby precipitate unkind feeling within my internal being. ;)

So long for now, y'all!

Racheal

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Poems

12/15/2014

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I am not a poet. In general, I'm not even what one would call a poetry fanatic, connoisseur, lover...etc. I do LIKE some poetry, but primarily the story-telling kind--or Alfred Noyes, "The Admiral's Ghost". That and Longfellow's "Paul Revere's Ride" are my favorite poems.

Anyway, all that to say, I have actually penned two or three poems myself. Nothing spectacular, but I have. I found the two that I remember writing while clawing through my junk the other day. I was trying to clean up, sort, and throw out stuff in my room across the creek and I found these...in my art box of all places.

I thought you might be interested to see my two puny pieces of literary genius that formed themselves into poetry.

I wrote both of these three to six years ago, but I wrote this one first:

The Boy of 1776
He defies those who say he is wrong.
He stands fast against that noisy throng.
He declares the truth and disowns retreat.
His eyes gleam with a blazing reflection of his spirit.
He cares not how they bleat,
For he is certain of where he stands.
And no one, no, not a single soul can
remove this glowing strength and pride.
Young he is, but sure and true to the glorious
cause within his breast.
For this cause he determines to willing sacrifice his all.

The second is longer and is entirely fictional...though I suppose something like it could have occurred. I could never think up a good title for this one, so it remains title-less. If you think of a good one, drop me a line in the comment section and I'll consider it. :)

They stood, ready. Bodies tense, hearts quickly beating.
"Steady! Hold on boys!"
The order came quietly ringing down the ranks.
They held firm, tense.

A lad stood taunt, his hands tightening,
then relaxing 'round his rifle.
Deeply breathing, striving to stay calm;
he wasn't alone, he knew
in this nocturnal trench terror.
Closing his eyes, he prayed,
"Father, make me brave."

A steady tramp was heard;
all eyes began to strain into the oppressive dark anew.
Rifles began shifting, breath became short,
then steadied as the hours of practice kicked in.
Artillery roared and the fight commenced.

Our land had been grazed by an enemy bullet,
yet he knew it not.
He worked the bolt on his rifle, a slight smile upon his lips,
a dull gleam within his eyes.
All fear had left him, his life was not his,
but his God's and his Country's.

A lull in the loud crash of arms.
The young lieutenant lifted his head, listening.
Down the line, off on the left flank, came a sound.
A cheerful sound amid the turmoil of war.
One lone voice shrilly, comfortingly,
whistling a popular tune.
"Praise the Lord and Pass the Ammunition."

The Colonel, wounded as he was,
his left arm tied tight with a tourniquet,
suddenly sprang toward the top of the trench, shouting,
"Praise the Lord, Pass the Ammunition...Charge!"

They swept the fleeing enemy before them,
the result of a strong peaceful faith in God Almighty.
Though many died that night, yet any more lived on,
beating overwhelming odds,
to the tune of the soldier's song.

Therefore, whether your battle be physical or spiritual,
always remember to
"Praise the Lord and Pass the Ammunition!"

So there you have it. I have no idea what meter or whatever these may or may not fall under, but I poured my tiny abilities into them.

I hope you enjoyed them!

Racheal

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The Raid on Fort Pierce

12/14/2014

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Well! I must say it was a thrill to get cinched into my 1860's clothing and head out for a day of WBtS reenacting enjoyment again!! It has, I admit, revitalized a little swirl of thoughts I have been tossing around for a while, though, granted, they are hardly articulable (yes, I just coined that word), even to myself.

Anyway, Mama and I headed across the prairie to spend the day south of Fort Pierce at the 14th Annual Raid on Fort Pierce reenactment. It was the only reenactment going on while I was here, so I really wanted to go...especially since a special SCV friend is one of the men who is behind it. Seeing as how things are, we only went over for the day, rather than doing the whole weekend deal (which is, you know, quite a blast).

Grandpa Wess had informed me, via email, that when we got to the registration table, I was to tell them he was expecting me and he would get us in and introduce us around. Well, I did, but Mama and I walked on, rather than standing around, so it was probably a good hour or so later when I finally saw him, looking more than ever like Santa Claus (he could seriously pull a Santa Claus act off) in a bright red shirt. He, naturally, gave and received a big hug. :) We actually didn't talk overly much, but it was enjoyable and pleasant while we did....

Anyway, that happened after something else. More surprising, but probably even more joyful. Mama and I had passed sutler row and we were walking along with me rattling, when I glanced up and saw a wagon with a shade cloth off it and a nice little setup around it. Then I saw the banner...which said something about "ministries". At roughly the same time, I saw a tall, quite broad-shouldered man in a green-check shirt with a black vest and straw hat. I interrupted myself in the middle of a sentence (I may have exclaimed "oh!", but I'm not sure) and just dashed off, rudely leaving my mother in my dust.

By the time I reached the wagon, I slowed myself to a little more lady-like pace. I stepped up behind the Reverend, who was still arranging things, and piped, "Good-morning!"

He turned, returning the greeting, and then stared at me in surprise for a second or two before breaking into a delighted grin and more warm welcome. Ah, yes...Mr. Brian is one member of our reenacting "family". He also so happens to be the bacon box bass player for 7lb.s of Bacon. :D

We also ran into a couple other acquaintances...I don't think I ever actually really had a conversation with Rebekah before yesterday, but she was a familiar face. We did stand and talk for a little while there. :)

This was the smallest event I have ever been too, so the battle wasn't supremely spectacular, but it wasn't bad either. Naturally, being Saturday, the Yankee's won (I must admit here, they were a pretty nice group of Yankee's...it was such a small event that the fraternization was a bit freer then usual. But, more on that later.) I guess I shall go ahead and put the pictures here, then I will continue the tale.

Well, to continue, after the battle, something happened that I had not seen before and it was really quite amusing. I am going to guess that the men of this particular company have pulled this stunt before. (8th Fl, Co C--I think.)

Anyway, there was some fracas about one of the guy's wives "turning traitor". She got 'arrested' by two of the men. The CO was talking very loudly, but her husband was really making a stew about his wife. Well, anyway, the CO made some remark about "Since you can't keep your wife under control". The guards "tied" the wife to a tree and her husband came up rather near her and started telling the other men to make sure their aim was sure. The CO gave the "ready, aim, fire!" routine and the firing squad fired--and the husband fell down 'dead'. The CO start raving about "what did you do?" and the men retorted with something about "her being a woman".

Suffice to say, they had entirely too much fun with it. :)

Let's see...Mama and I went out to dinner (yes, with me decked out like a lower class woman from the 1860's, replete with secession cockade). We were going to go to a sea food place, but even at that early hour, it looked crowded, so we went in search of sustenance elsewhere. (The event sponsors were feeding the reenactors at 5:30, but chicken and dumplings are something I steer clear of, for obvious reasons.) We ended up at this Mexican restaurant with good food...and a man playing live mariachi music on his guitar. :)

We had already decided that I could stay for the dance. I really wanted to and Mama was game, even though it meant getting home later than perhaps is wise, so I decided I wanted to re-do my hair. While I could have done it without brushing my hair, Mama swung by a DollarTree and bought me a hairbrush and a nice hand mirror (that was really nice!) So, I sat there in the car (by the way, corsets and bucket seats are opposing forces), in the dim light (until I remembered that I could turn the overhead on) and did my hair in two braids over the top of my head.

We still had about an hour to kill before the dance began, so I spent a good portion of that standing up, leaned against the car, fingers busy with my knitting, looking at the stars. I went through my Confederate song repertoire (which is rather small if you count only what I know all the words to). Roughly fifteen til eight, we strolled back on down to where the dance was to be and shortly after that, the rest of the dancers arrived.

I think we may have had a grand total of eight couples at the floor's fullest. It was the smallest and most haphazard dance I have ever been to, but I must admit that since it was so small, (er...intimate, to use a more period term), it was also quite fun. I danced the majority of it with a young Confederate private who goes by the handle of "Stumpy". Stumpy is a one-year reenacting veteran, plays the "hick" very well, but probably is a pretty smart guy. My guess is he's someplace between 18-21. Oh, and isn't stumpy at all. He's a good head taller than me (at least) and has very broad shoulders. We chattered away like old friends for a good part of the evening; he reminds me remarkably of my 'brother', Matt.... He taught me another version of the waltz and I introduced him to an idea that I think he had never considered before (from reading his expression): women shouldn't be on the battlefield. Granted, I did a pretty poor job of it, seeing as I was unprepared for the conversation and it was hugging 10 o'clock more or less by that time, but I think I was clear enough to paint a picture of why I, personally, will not "cross-dress" (his term) and go on the battlefield (even though, I must admit, I think it would be rather thrilling).

Anyway, to describe the dancing a little more; the majority of the men there were Yankees...there were only three or four Confederate men. The music was blared from the speakers of someone's pick-up...and, it tickled me deeply, the majority of it was 7 lb.s of Bacon! :D I told Stumpy gaily that 7 lb.s of Bacon (whom he also thinks is the best!) is "my reenacting group"...and that the parson down yonder was the bacon box bass player! He didn't realize that.

We started with a Grand March. One just does, you know. It was the shortest length of people I have ever seen! Still, for all that, I was trying very hard not to trip on Pvt. Jimbo's heels...I cannot say that I exactly succeeded on that front.

I believe we went straight into a waltz after that...then a Virginia reel. I really like the Virginia Reel better when the sets are more than four people...but it seems like most callers set up groups of four couples, instead of six to ten. Anyway, not to complain... ;)

There was the Broom Dance...which is different than what we do at the Scottish Ball. It's more like musical chairs. Technically, one is never supposed to dance with the same partner twice in the Broom Dance, but with such an infinitesimal group of dancers, that rule kind of got ignored.

And the Hat Dance! In the past I haven't enjoyed that one overly much, but I really got into it last night....it's quite hilarious. Three chairs get set at the head of the line: either a lady or a gent is seated in the center, holding the hat, with two gents or ladies (respectively) on either side. The two on either side are supposed to convince the person in the middle why he (or she) should pick them (the one not picked receives the hat). When I was the girl in the middle...oh dear me! I was shaking with laughter nearly the whole time! Pvt. Jimbo, an older gentleman with a bad leg, would always get down on one knee and address the ladies as "Madame". I went with him once...and then with one of the Yankee's the next time, simply because I had already danced down with him already. (Sorry, sir, it wasn't the fact that you have cable!) There was one man who had been rather "fresh" with the lady before me (I think these folks all already knew each other anyway), and she had picked the opposite man. Well, when I had to sit down next to him, I leaned away from him (playing the part, you know) and my antics of horror were adding to the merriment. Stumpy danced me down the one time I ended up lined up with him...my hat compliment was the key. ;D Another time, I was one of two ladies on either side of a Yankee (I believe it was the man throwing his General's pay around :D), and I sat up stiff as a poker and remarked 'fiercely', "I'm a Confederate, through and through!" I forget who was on the other side of him, but he picked me with a remark that went along these lines, "Well, I've never had a Rebel before, but if I must..." It was all good-natured fun...and I thoroughly enjoyed it.

Let's see...we also did a truncated version of the Snowball Reel. (Done in full that one is really, really fun.) We did the Star Reel (which I messed up), another waltz...and I taught Stumpy how to polka! I do so enjoy the polka...it's fast and fun...and you'd better have a good grip on your partner or you might fly apart! :D

This particular ball was shorter than the norm, but it was still quite fun and I'm glad I got to stay for it. We left directly as it ended and headed home. I rolled into bed at roughly 12:30 and I guess I went to sleep faster than I expected I would...because I sure don't remember laying there trying to wind down (I ran my mouth the whole way home, which is actually a good thing for the driver). I also didn't get nearly as sunburned as I expected to, but I then remembered that I had slathered vinegar on my face before we left. I do believe truly that it helps prevent sunburn.

I had a grand time...and my brain is twitching with that partially formed notion I alluded to in the first paragraph...

Racheal

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GMA

12/9/2014

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I rediscovered a treasure today...my Granddaddy's old Georgia Military Academy uniform! It is in really good condition, with only a few tiny moth holes in the jacket. There was one jacket, two pairs of pants (one of which was fraying around the waistband), a white cloth belt, and a leather belt with a GMA buckle. The leather belt is stiff and would probably crack if one tried wearing it without giving it the proper oiling first. That fit me...as did the jacket; the pants were too long so I didn't even bother trying to put them on. I would rather not walk on that very nice wool... Yes, the uniform is wool.

This would be his dress belt I am guessing.

Kind of out of focus, but I wanted to show that the GMA buttons have the Georgia state seal on them.

I took a few moments to observe the jacket construction and I found three things particularly interesting. #1: The jacket has four buttons down the front, but the fourth one, which is covered by the self-fabric belt, is a dark blue/gray flat plastic button. It really makes a lot of sense, since it isn't to be seen and a shank button would have made the belt stand out weird. #2: Speaking of shank buttons, these are sewn on with a smaller, flat plastic ones backing them. Once again it makes sense, as it stiffens and holds them in place better. (Daddy told me his dress blues are like that as well.) #3: The whole jacket is lined with some slick material (polyester, perhaps? Savannah, what did they use in the late 1940's?), which did not surprise me. What interested me was that under the arms, in the arm holes in other words, the lining was the same wool fabric as the shell.

I am not sure Granddaddy spent his entire High School 'career' at GMA, but I'm fairly certain he was there from 1947-1949, the year he graduated (as a Staff Sergeant). I now have two of his yearbooks ('48 and '49) and I enjoyed scouring through them looking for photographs of him. Both of them have been damp, but the later one really got wet. There were probably more pages stuck together than not. I was determined to try and get them apart, so I spent at least an hour over the kettle steaming pages loose and getting steam burnt in the process. However, I am glad that I took the time and effort to do so, even though a good percentage of the pages have irreparable damage. (They were already that way for the main part.)

I thought you might enjoy a peek into the past....

GMA: 1948 (I found it a bit confusing in this book because he's listed in the class of '50; but he was a Senior in '49. However, I'll just leave it at that.)

In '48, Granddaddy was the guideon bearer for Co. E

There he is, middle with the flag. :)

I was looking at each group picture carefully, and I had to take a second look at one of these guys...I took it in to Daddy and asked, "Is that your Daddy?"

He looked at it for a minute and said, "Look at that chin..." I was observing the eyebrows. I had NO IDEA he was on the swim team!

GMA: 1949: Senior year

His was one of the ruined ones...tough not as ruined as some. (I literally peeled that section of the page off the opposite one.)

I found these "prophecy" things rather amusing; it's fascinating that at 18 he was only 98 pounds...

I can hear him saying that...

I spotted him here too...

In 1949, he was in B Co...

On the right...

I was actually surprised that he wasn't on the rifle team the year before...however, he ditched the swimming his last year and picked up a rifle. (It suits him more, I think.) [Lower left hand corner.]

I really looked here because I was reminded of his love of poetry by my cousin Beth's reference of it during her eulogy.

He had a particular fondness for Robert Service's poetry. I always found it rather odd myself. (By now you probably know that that's him in the upper right hand corner. :D)

He'd be in the army within four years...sporting a different uniform than this one.

Racheal

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Catch Up

12/8/2014

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*pant, pant*

I am starting this post here this morning (Monday), but it may not get done....there is a lot of chatter to catch up on.

I guess I'll start with Thursday, briefly. Aunt Terry and her "crew" arrived Thursday evening. We had already pulled up stakes here at Granddaddy's and moved over across the creek--where we have no water. So we showered over here for the next three days and drove the three miles across the creek to sleep. (We returned after they left.)

Friday was very full. Obviously, since it was the day of the funeral. I know it sounds rather odd...but it was a smashing success.

Anyway, the day started out with a very oddly, frumpily dressed Racheal loading into the Saturn and whisking away into town with her mother's USB stick to go get pictures printed for the funeral later that day. Well, I got to Walgreens and got the two copies of this one in the works:

I couldn't print the other picture (which I haven't a handy copy of) because it was a PowerPoint slide and the printer-thingy would only 'read' JPG's. So I called my parents and they turned it into a JPG and put it on Daddy's stick. We were both headed to Grandadday's and actually met at the cross-road, where, even before I saw Daddy getting out of the truck, I was rolling down my window. He handed me his USB drive and I did a big turn right in the middle of the intersection (backroads, no worry) and dashed back to town.

The pictures wouldn't be ready until 15-30 minutes later, so I came rushing back to the house to change and load guitars and stuff and then I made a bee-line for First Baptist. (Mama and Daddy picked the pictures up on their way in.)

Three of the cousins play guitar...and we had a practice with the church pianist at 11:30. That is why I was in such a hurry. It was a wee bit odd, but I found myself, the youngest of the three of us (okay, so I'm only four months younger than David) taking the lead and 'giving orders'. It was I who talked to the pianist. I guess though, since it was my parents who had essentially planned the funeral, it was somewhat natural. (I suspect I have something of a dominant personality anyway.)

We practiced and then for the next two hours did various things...I set up my camera in the balcony...talked with people...fretted over my shoes (new, never worn, a little big)...spent a few minutes with Granddaddy. I ran up and down the stairs a couple of times.

People said nice things to me and I'll admit that one gentleman's telling me that I "always looked pretty" even when I was "dirty" (my words) because of "pretty smiles, pretty eyes, and a sweet spirit" rather made my day. I don't always have a sweet spirit, but I do appreciate his kindness. [There is a little history to that comment that made it particularly special.] I was thrilled to see Tommy and Ricky show up...there were also second and third and fourth cousins there...but since we don't really actually know each other for the most part there wasn't anything overly spectacular to relate on that front. Dear Butch and Betty were there...poor Butch, he loved Granddaddy so. I was going to go greet Zeke (a cousin and gun-store friend), but I never got over to where he was seated and then later, I couldn't locate him. I'll have to go to Gator Guns on some pretense... ;)

The funeral started at two. I have a schedule around here someplace, but I'll try to remember the order off the top of my head. But first, let me mention that we had a PowerPoint with pictures of Granddaddy going, underlaid with he himself singing! That was what he wanted. He wanted to play his own funeral...and he did. :) He recorded these cassette tapes over the years...and I took my handy-dandy Zoom last Wednesday and Thursday and recorded them (oddly enough the digital recording sounded better than the tape). I had to take the audio files and raise the gain on them...but even that solidified in my mind that I really do not enjoy audio editing. (A shout-out here to my brother, Andrew, for his advice on the free Audacity download. Thanks! You really helped.)

The funeral itself went along something like this: a prayer, a scripture reading, reading of the obituary, the singing of "I'll Fly Away" (with three guitars and a piano), the three eulogies given by three granddaughters (Savannah [filmed by moi], Beth, and Cassandra), a short sermonette, the singing of the "Doxology", and another prayer. We let Granddaddy close out by singing "It is Finished" (by now I was wishing I had my handkie, which was in my purse which I had left with Daddy--who was nearly at the other end of the row. (I was sitting next to Philip and Joel.)) Then...oh chills!! Aunt Terry and David got up and played echo Taps. Need I say more? I really had to fight the serious bawling then...of course, I always cry when I hear Taps, but this was particularly emotional.

All the present grandchildren (which was all but three anyway) were the pall-bearers. At the close of the service, we followed Pastor Matt out, followed by the casket (on a gurney), followed by the rest of the family. We carried the casket down the steps and then put it into the hearse. (Only they called it a "funeral coach". I never heard that term before.)

Then, we all loaded up into our respective vehicles and headed for the cemetery. I think Uncle Rod nearly hit the back of our truck squeaking in behind us...but never mind, he didn't.

I have never been part of a funeral procession before either, so I found it slighting interesting (once I got done blowing my nose) to see the cars pulling over and that the police had shut down the main highway intersection for us. I'm sure that the vehicles forced to a stop there were glad we were a rather shortish funeral procession so that they didn't have to stop their travels for too long. (And I hope no one thinks me callous, but I munched on tater chips nearly the whole way to the cemetery.)

I cried more at the graveside bit than during the rest of it. See, Granddaddy had a military funeral. He was only in from '52-'54...but he went to Georgia Military Academy and was a Drill Sgt. during the Korean War.

The VFW honor guard was there, Garand rifles and all (Daddy remarked, "He would have liked being Garand-ed"). I seriously couldn't keep from crying when the flag was presented to Daddy (Mama told me that was Aunt Terry's call...and I thank her for it) and then Aunt Terry got up after the military salute and played Taps again. Between me and Aimee, we did enough sniffling for the back row, I think.

By the way...Daddy wore his dress blues. :)

The ladies of First Baptist fed us supper...after which most of the cousins went into the adjoining gymnasium and acted like a bunch of kids. It was most fun when Philip, Joel, Cassandra, and I started playing basket ball--not that I know anything about it. Philip and I were a team (the 'dark' team--we both had on all black) and Joel and Cassandra were a team (the 'light' team--because their clothes were lighter). The light team won. :)

We came back to Granddaddy's house were talk went on for a while until folks went their separate ways...but we got some pictures.

Beth and Aimee...sisters and best friends. :)

Philip and Joel

I'm pretty fond of those two ornery brothers... :D Philip is the elder (and taller) of the two. Joel plays football...and he was doing some of his power lifting. :D And yes, his hair really does have an odd colored streak down it; apparently it's a football thing when they get into the play-off season that all the guys grow out and/or bleach their hair. Well...Joel has a bleached (curly) mohawk. It got braided down for the funeral...and I think his head took on the resemblance of a football...I had far too much fun razzing him about his funky hair-do...but he enjoyed it, so I guess we're even.

Later in the evening, Daddy became a hit with the little girls. :) Nothing surprising in that... :D

Saturday after lunch, Aunt Terry and her family left. Aunt Laurie and Uncle Dave, with Beth and Gini (Beth's daughter) came over while Aimee and her husband and son headed back home.

I was dead-beat most of the day on Saturday (food hanger-over, plus being tried anyway). I probably looked something like this:

This was taken Thursday afternoon by Philip. I was as tired as I look...

Everybody talked...Beth, Gini, and I took a little walk (which helped me wake up). At some point in the afternoon, Gini (who is 4) and I did a wordsearch. Actually, I did the wordsearch, but she marked the words. It really was a quite a bit of fun as we spelled things out. :)

We had a few minutes of music because heading into town for supper. I had, ahem, grits and shrimp (*gasp* GMO-corn!!), and it was really good. I was afraid I was going to be just as dopey on Sunday as I had been all day Saturday, but I wasn't, thankfully.

It was good to be in my church again...it made me laugh when one of the deacons who passes out bulletins turned and was fixing to extend his usual greeting (a hug for everyone, even first time visitors) and then his usually pleasant face got even more pleasant and he threw his arms out wider with a "Hello! It's good to see you again!" And then he forgot to give me a bulletin! :D

I got a different reaction from one of the elders; it was equally welcoming, but different. He turned around, looked me over in mock seriousness and then grinned, "I think we know you..."

And then there was Bob and Bob...and I met a very pretty girl who is my age whose name is also Rachel... :D They were visiting from Georgia, but her Dad is from here...and they were here for a funeral as well. Interesting facts of life. ;)

Shortly before we left, I went to check my phone for some reason and I saw that I had a missed call. It was from Mr. A! Well, I called him back on the way home and he just wanted to express his sympathy and tell me that they were going to come to the funeral, but Mrs. A had an eye appointment that day. A wrinkled cornea or something, I believe he said. It sounded very painful whatever it was!

Last evening, we decided to go to the traveling Vietnam Wall. It was the last day on it and since we were here while it was, we decided to go even though it was Sunday. The closing ceremony was not PC. ;) Didn't expect it to be, but it was nice that the opening and closing prayers were in the "name of Christ Jesus"--and the fact that people actually got quiet for the prayers. Being as it was also Pearl Harbor Day, the subject of the little talks was primarily December 7, 1941. I had the pleasure and honor of meeting another handful of WWII vets.

When we came home, we Skyped with the girls for awhile and then watched "Tora! Tora! Tora!" We don't usually watch films on Sunday, but as the 73rd anniversary of Pearl Harbor on the very day it happened (Sunday), we felt it was appropriate.

Today, I started out to mow the grass at our place. Plain and simple, I couldn't get the Kubota cranked--even jumping it. So...I came home for lunch. I thought perhaps I would take the John Deere over and mow the pasture over there (it needs it worse than the yard) instead. Well, not too long after lunch, Tommy and Ricky came by to put out some mineral and got invited in for a cup of coffee--which turned into a rancher's planning meeting--and I hung around. Tommy took Daddy out to look at the Cogon grass (Tommy says it so it sounds like "cugen") which is trying to take over. It's been sprayed at least once. While they were out and about and Mama talked with Ricky, I puttered around in the barn. I aired up the John Deere's front tires and then crawled on to see if I could get the thing cranked. It didn't even hum. I started tinkering around with putting the battery charger on and then Ricky told me that they have just been pull starting it since the battery charger isn't worth much (agreed!) Apparently the thing doesn't hold the charge anyway...they'll run it and can't get it cranked again. Very good to know. Anyway, I think I'll probably be mowing Cogon grass and briers tomorrow.

Soo...I have to say I didn't get much done today, but I think I learned a few things by listening to the men's conversation, so it wasn't a total waste. I now feel too dirty to do much, so I may go get cleaned up then see if I can help Mama (who is cleaning out the closet in Granddaddy's bedroom).

Racheal

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"One Thing"

Racheal

The Church of Christ, Part 7

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Mislaid?

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Christmas 2014

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Merry Christmas!!

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Of Wednesday, On Thursday

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Poems

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The Raid on Fort Pierce

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GMA

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Catch Up

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The Middle Kid

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