The Before: Aka...Wednesday and Thursday's Adventure.
It actually all started last Friday when we headed off to the Farmer's Market and I cranked up the A/C--only to have nothing but hot air blown in our faces. A statement similar to this fell from my lips: "I will have to put Freon in this next week..."

Next week came and it got to be Wednesday--I ran into town to mail an Etsy package and stop in at NAPA for coolant. I tripped out gaily with my coolant and then didn't get around to attempting "the deed" til late afternoon as I was busy doing other things. 

Plain and simple, I couldn't get the Freon hose hooked up to the adapter-thingy (I have put coolant in a vehicle once or twice before in my life, just never in Annabelle). After a number of diagnostic phone calls with Daddy we determined that it was probably just a shortness/strength issue so he told me to take it over to NAPA in the morning and get them to help me. So that is what I did.

The kind-hearted men tried--two of them--and informed me that they thought the adapter must be the wrong size. Looking at a service-sticker under the hood, they suggested that I take Annabelle back out Eagles and see if they couldn't fix me up. Okay sure. So I called Daddy--he gave me the green light; called home to explain the extra length on my out-and-about and headed up the road a bit to Eagles.

Well--it was lunch hour--so I decided since I was getting hungry myself that I'd go on home rather than wait and get myself some lunch. I got back, Mr. Steve looked at things...and as it turns out, he ended up pulling Annabelle into a bay to run a UV light on her and see if he could locate where/if there was a leak before he even went about trying to put any Freon it. The end diagnosis was something along these lines--he couldn't see ANY Freon or oil in it at all. No apparent leaks. The condenser is kind of clogged up and he wants to clean it (suspects the leak may be there), but it was more than an afternoon job and we needed Annabelle the very next day. So...the consensus was: Go. Be hot. (Have a good time.) Bring her back in Monday morning for the job to be done. 

And that, y'all was the start of the Turkeyville Adventure.

I finished loading (minus last minute things like the cooler and pillows) that evening and the next day we got out--at least an hour later than I intended:

After a phone call to Miss K to determine a few things, I picked our route (the one that takes us through Miss K's home town) and we ended up having lunch with her at this nice little BBQ place she works at.

We made a brief stop at the K's house also in order to pick up the fly and side wall and poles they were so kind to lend us yet again and managed to get to Turkeyville and set up before dark.

Anyway, I slept kind of lousy that night--not just because there were mosquitoes joyfully nibbling upon me, but when I woke up after only a couple hours of sleep at someplace between 3 and 3:30 am...someone a few tents down was carrying on a lively conversation in a middle of the day tone. I didn't get back to sleep after that, not really. I think I dozed a little between 4:30 and 5...but not much. 

Due to how tired I was and how tired I am...my memories may be a little garbled, so bear with me....I have a feeling I'm going to be dropping stuff out of the narrative because I can't remember it at the time of this writing.

​Josh showed up for breakfast and before eating, he tried on his new pants...and I most definitely needed to hem them up!

I ended up cutting the excess off and simply flipping up the raw edge about an inch before stitching it down (though technically I really could have just cut it and left it--unfinished pants were not unusual and that wool isn't going to ravel). I even got to use a sad iron for the first time in my life! I pressed the hem of Josh's pants and also pressed the collar of Hawk's vest.

Speaking of Hawk--we were camped right next to Hawk and Jill. They had even saved the space for us, so that was great! :)

Josh mosied off after breakfast. As I was getting started on hemming his pants, he shows up again and asked us if we'd like to grab our instruments and come down to where a group where jamming. Well, you know us (I think!) and so we collected guitar and fiddle and headed down the line to meet the 9th Kentucky and enjoy a time of jamming before lunch. Really a nice bunch of guys...more on them later though. ;)

Saturday's battle was set in Missouri and the Confederates were supposed to be militia fighting the Yankees....I forget the town and the exact set-up, but that was the general drift. They did something in this battle I've never seen done before. They encouraged spectators to join them on the field. Not randomly of course  (nor armed), but they took their "volunteers" (mostly kids) and put them in formation and marched them onto the field under supervision. They were only allowed on for part of the battle. What follows is a collection of photos taken from Saturday's battle:

Those last bunch of fellows were actually camped behind us and are they ever good! They were quite lively on the battlefield, yelling and when the "Bushwacker" got hit, he twitched and writhed...if I were man, going onto the field, I would probably be like that...really make a good show out of it.

After the battle I don't remember exactly what went on...until all of a sudden I realized that the band was setting up for the dance and that we probably should start tidying ourselves up a little. (My watch was an entire hour slow...I set it wrong that morning entirely by accident.) 

Josh escorted us to the ball along with another of his friends, Lydia. She seems like a real nice girl--I talked to her some at Coldwater. Four wide we "wheeled left" then "wheeled right" on our way into the dance tent. 

While a little "small" (though certainly not the smallest reenactment ball I've ever been to--Fort Pierce in 2014 gets that honour) it was an enjoyable dance and I had plenty of partners--KT and I only danced with each other once! The band that has played the dances I have been to up here is really very good--though I still don't think anyone can beat 7 LB.S of Bacon as a dance band and Mr. Doug as caller... :) 

The gents from the 9th KY invited us to come back to the big-tent after a bit and jam with them some, so we collected our instruments and a candle holder and joined the fun. I don't know how long we played but it was over an hour for sure! I think this was probably one of the BEST jam sessions I have ever been party too. While these guys are really, really good, they were also easy to jam with because they were encouraging and kind. Put it this way, one wasn't left feeling stupid because they didn't know the song, or even the exact chords. My fingers got sore and I started using my guitar as a drum more than I was strumming or finger-picking, but it went on until nigh on midnight. I heard the next day that the 11th Miss (the ones camped behind us) had really enjoyed the music. I was glad because I had started to worry we were being a nuisance to those who might be trying to sleep. Though we were just "right there" from the big tent, a couple of them escorted us "home" after the jam and we said our good-nights.

I slept terrible. Not because I was wound up but because of those things go "buzz" in the night. Them skeeters were NASTY.  I felt like I was awake half the night knocking my head around slapping at those Insekten. I was trying to keep covered, but I felt like I was boiling (it was humid and not really all that cool). In the end, I may have managed to actually sleep for three hours. So I was a little flat the next day. 

I did get a kick of energy about half-way through my second cup of coffee and that, plus adrenaline, got me through the day. Church was at 10, so we showed up a little early and played a few tunes--then we would play again during the alter call. Josh joined us with his gorgeous 12-string. I would give you the basic outline of Hawk's sermon, but due to the state of my mind, I think I would butcher it. All in all--the Ten Commandments. These are the rule of life and we break them ALL when we break one (which we all do). Jesus is the way of salvation because He paid for our sins. (I will add that He also perfectly fulfilled the law and through in that lofty-sounding "double imputation" phrase.)  

Real shortly after the service, Jill and a smallish number of ladies gathered 'round to discuss the lack of women "doing it right" and how to graciously help and encourage them to make the extra effort to do so. Not sure anything conclusive was landed upon, but in my personal opinion, I think it really comes down to the mind-set of the person reenacting. If they don't care, nothing we can say will make them care and if they do care, they will be already be trying to make headway. 

Pres. Davis was there on hand to give a talk and while Katherine went to prepare lunch (it was her week to cook so she was landed the cooking duties for the weekend) Jill and I stayed. Apparently, Mr. Lincoln was supposed to be there as well, but the poor man fell and hurt both of his wrists the day before (I believe he even went to the hospital) so he wasn't there. So, Pres. Davis spoke of Mr. Lincoln. While I am definitely not a big Lincoln fan, I was able to appreciate the kindness and attempt at level dealing in the way Pres. Davis spoke. (Of course, in real life, these presenters are friends, so I'm sure that helps.)

The battle was quite early (1 o'clock) and so lunch was pushed off until after the battle since it wasn't done yet. Katherine stayed in camp and I went to watch the battle, camera in hand. So, this next collection of photos were taken by me (so...they loaded up kinda of random like...):

This battle was the battle of Corydon, Indiana--which I just so happened to hear of for the first time last Sunday!! The Union were supposed to be militia this time...and the Confederates really should have been cavalry as they were filling in for John Hunt Morgan's men. Corydon, Indiana was one of the few battles fought on Yankee Northern turf. I was really rather unsure who won this...

After this battle, both sides lined up to salute the crowd with their musket volley:

I wandered back to the tent at this point and after a fantabulous lunch, would begin breaking down camp in slo-mo fashion. I picked up speed after a bit because we were supposed to get to the K's by 6 so we could join in their "call-in" to their church's evening service and I didn't want to be late again. Josh helped us break down the tent and pack the truck, which I appreciate. 

As Josh and I were finishing the packing, Katherine took a couple of tent ropes over to Hawk so he could teach her how to splice. I showed up just as he was really getting underway--and even though I haven't done it yet, I think I can say that I too learned how to splice. Grandpa would be proud. :) (Kt is currently sitting in the other room splicing the tent ropes, by the way.)

We did make it to the K's with hardly a minute to spare...I tried very hard to pay attention though I was tired enough that I won't say that my attention was at it's peak. 

This last picture brings me back to the truck--and the end of the story I started this post with. There is a twist to this tale that you probably aren't expecting.

When I cranked Annabelle up in the driveway, I noticed she was a little sluggish, but didn't think anything really about it. We stopped a few miles away in town to get gasoline before going on--and Annabelle wouldn't crank. It was the battery. I could tell by the way the engine faded. I just about panicked. I told Katherine to call Abigail because I knew one of the boys or Mr. K would come and give us a jump. Well, Abigail didn't answer...and the house phone didn't answer...and God works miracles. 

I tried one more time and Annabelle roared to life. That my friends, is nothing short of the gracious mercy of God. 

I was on the phone with Mom at the time and she told me "Do NOT turn the truck off until you get home." I didn't.

To continue, I went to crank Annabelle this morning once I had most of the stuff unloaded, so that I could take the rest of it out and unload it directly into the barn...and she wouldn't crank. Each attempt got weaker. So I called Daddy. Battery or alternator he said...or both. After a few minutes, I followed the advice he gave me, put her in neutral and rolled down the slight driveway incline far enough to get the Red Car out of the garage and turned around. Thankful that I know the proper use of jumper cables, I got the two vehicles battery's hooked up and in a few minutes, Annabelle was purring. 

I didn't turn her off either until Mr. F at NAPA told me to...she needed a new battery as the old was six years old.

From there, I took her on out to Eagles. Far later than my "first thing in the morning" appointment. It was after 1 pm. 

The word on the A/C though, to conclude the tale is this: 
The R134 conversion of this make and model vehicle only lasts 1-2 years before the compressor tears up.  It is the wrong type of compressor for R134 to effectively lubricate and it gets all trashed after awhile and the internal gets all plugged up with metal shavings (from the compressor guts). So, while he could fix it for a hunk of money, we'd still have to do it again in 2 years (or so), etc. Daddy told him to put things back together and he will try to find one he can strip off another vehicle and retrofit to Annabelle. 

Well...I'm now sufficiently tired and it's dark so I think bed calls my name.

You may want to go and re-read it, if you haven't already.
Even though Katherine forgot her camera...I've been snitching photos from Facebook and for this first set credit must go to Jill for her photography!

Click on the pictures for larger copies...and captions!

This next batch of photos were sent to me by the photographer, Abigail...
​Saturday Morning: Breakfast

Saturday Morning: Train Ride

Saturday: Lunch

Abigail also got a few pictures of the battle:

And that is it on the photos. Hopefully, you all enjoyed them! Maybe next time Katherine will remember her camera so there will be a few more...

A'right. Take two at this. My first attempt got "crashed". Take two's are never as good, but I can try.

I'll begin Thursday morning...after three days of non-stop push to get ready and loaded, we headed out a little later than I wanted to. We had to make three stops: the post office, the gas station, and 20/20 Vision for Katherine's new glasses. After that, rather than back-tracking to go the way I had intended to, I decided to head north and angle over to the road I wanted to take. In the long run, I'm sure it actually saved a little time, but we almost got lost and so I was happy that we had the Gazetteer in the truck.

Hitting the road we wanted, we roared along (Annabelle does roar a bit, even at lower speeds) and made it to our Miss K's house around 1:30. We spent about the next hour eating lunch and chit-chatting before we moved along. I said something at one point that put Miss K into a fit of laughter--and I'm still at a loss as to what I said that was so funny!

Arriving at Heritage Park with plenty of daylight left, we got registered and I started looking around for Hawk and Jill's set up. When I spotted a familiar gray trailer, I knew where we were going to set up. We "parked" ourselves right across the 'street' (really a wide sidewalk that ribbons through the park) and began setting up. Hawk appeared after a little bit and helped us get the tent set up and beyond that gave us some very helpful (and appreciated!) pointers on setting up a canvas tent. 

Abigail came in sometime in the evening bringing what was supposed to be fly (we have one but cannot find it!)...it turned out it was actually a side wall--but as that came in handy later there were no complaints! Hawk had an extra fly so we borrowed that, too. ;) All in all, I think we had a nice little cozy set up. (Sorry, no pics--Kt forgot her camera!)

Next day was "Education Day" (or "school day" if you prefer) so from 9 am to roughly 4 pm there were school kids everywhere. I wasn't set up, or prepared to be a presenter, but at some point while I was working on lunch, I look up to see a group of young'uns and chaperones standing before me in an expectant kind of way. After a moment of "good grief, now what do I do??" running through my head, I gave them the greeting of the morning and explained that while I wasn't an official presenter, that they were free to ask me any questions they might have and I would try to answer them.

That became my routine as the morning progressed and more groups stopped at my tent to see what on earth I was up to and what I could tell them--so I pitched into a subject closely related to the turnips and other root vegetables I would putting into my stew. Southern food shortages and how the women survived on very little that they had to make do with and feed their children. I was pleasantly surprised at how smoothly the words and sentences rolled off my tongue and praise the Lord that my normal stress stutter and word mixing did not make an appearance! I only remember the faces out of three or four groups, but my favorite was a small mob of eighth grade Hispanic boys. They were enjoying themselves mightily I believe and while some of the questions they asked me were silly, such as "are you really going to eat that?" (the stew), I think there were other good ones. I can't really remember now, I had an absolute blast bantering with them as they were just fun! As they were fixing to move off, one of them inquired, "Can we taste your stew?" I don't know if my eyes got big or not (I rather think they might have), but while I laughingly informed them that it wasn't done, my internal mind is looking at 8-10 teenage boys and yelping, "No way!! This is my lunch and supper!! If each of them tried it there wouldn't be any left!" That might have been a slight exaggeration, but irregardless, I would think that legally the reenactors probably shouldn't be feeding spectators anyway.

Later on, while sitting under Hawk and Jill's fly, I would see this same group of boys--and get asked if the stew was good. (It was.) Hawk had an absolute blast with them as well and when they finally left there were fist bumps and funky handshakes and hugs. It was hilarious. (Oh yeah...I forgot. They wanted to get their picture taken with me!! I had forgotten that. They were just enthusiastic about everything.)

One of the most interesting interchanges I witnessed during the day happened shortly after the boys had left and a bored group or two had gone through. Into the shade of the fly stepped another group of eighth graders, headed by this cute little blonde girl with big glasses and an attitude that became apparent when she opened her mouth. She was an adamant Unionist.

Hawk, not quite his usual joke-cracking self, set about asking questions. He's good at this: ask questions that challenge the "party line", the "brainwashing". As he kept firing questions at her, I was watching her face and those of her classmates. As they were forced to answer his questions, to look at the facts, or at least the other side of the issue, it was like seeing light bulbs going on in their eyes. It is a fascinating thing to see people's eyes being opened as they are encouraged to exercise their mental faculties. Finally, after a bit of getting them to think, Hawk asked one question/made a request: that all the ones who believed in defending the Constitution at the cost of the Union should come stand on one side of the tent--and whoever would betray the Constitution (and consequently our liberties) for the sake of the Union to remain where they were. Get this: Every single one of those kids went over to the Confederate side of the tent--including our little blonde girl. The teacher was called over by the kids, but he raised his fist and declared, "The Union forever!" Moments later, as this situation got slightly awkward, the kids were rapped at that it was time to go. If there is one thing I want to learn from Hawk...it is how to force people to think the way he does. He seems so nonchalant about it and it's fascinating to watch him "work".

Friday evening, Abigail and Grace arrived to spend the night with us in-tent! As we were standing/sitting around chattering like magpies, we spotted Luke and Andrew walking down the "street" craning their necks around in obvious search of someone or something....Grace, being a little ornery, popped behind a trashcan (hiding!), hailing her brothers at about the same time they turned around. They continued to walk away and Grace looked disappointed that they had not seen her (which in fact, at least Andrew had). The boys had come to find out who they were going to fall in with in the morning, but they stayed around for a bit of a cozy chat (six people, plus two tables and a few other items under a fly in the rain is cozy). They finally betook themselves home (that sounds like we wanted them to leave...which wasn't the intent!) and the girls made ready to hit the hay--or sack rather. Three of us literally "sacked out" on the ground on our sleeping pallets and sleeping bags while the one with the cot was elevated over the boxes of clothing and excess (kitchen stuff, towels, candles, etc.)

I had the dubious honor of being the first one up....and after nipping out of the tent as quietly as possible I proceeded to attempt (that's a key word in this sentence) to chop up some wood into small enough pieces to fit  in our  brazier. Well yes, I believe I did wake up the other girls with my persistent, stubborn "thump! thump! thump!" as I tried to whack away with a dull hatchet on damp wood. I just wanted my coffee, that's all. So anyway, after they all got up, I got dressed and went back to my whacking...eventually, over the course of the day, I whacked, Josh whacked, Luke whacked, Mr. K whacked, and a complete stranger whacked at the wood. The hatchet, though it felt sharp to the touch simply wasn't wanting to cut wood. It got kind of funny after a while.....

Anyway...we ate breakfast and collecting our instruments we headed for the train station where we played for a little bit before actually getting on board and continuing to play on and off through the whole ride to the other train station (they even put us on the PA system!!) We got out there and played a little more (by the way, many thanks to Josh for hurrying up as the train was fixing to roll and handing his guitar tuner and music book through the window! I really needed the tuner...)

The scenario this year, if I gathered correctly, was that the Yankee's were transporting gold on the train...they also had a prisoner (whom we boldly serenaded with "Dixie" as they marched him through the car). The Confederates got on board at the second train station and as they made their way through the cars they demanded people put their hands up. As they got to our car, I couldn't exactly raise my hands as I had my guitar in one hand and Abigail's violin and bow in the other. The soldier in front leveled his pistol at my as I sat there staring at him and asked gruffly, "Can you play a tune?" to which I responded, "I could...if both hands weren't full." Then he demanded, "Can you play Dixie?" "Yes, SIR!" Handing Abigail back her violin we threw ourselves into it. (We also played Dixie for General Lee--who was actually camped across from us with General Grant! We were introduced to him two weeks ago at Hartford City and he really seems to be a kind man. He told us several times over the weekend that he enjoyed our music--we played various times singly or together throughout the course of the weekend.)

The skirmish at the train station wasn't quite as spectacular this year I didn't think...but no matter. We had fun.

When we got back to came I went straight to getting the fire going again and making lunch. I was feeding the K's and Josh and as five of them were engaged in the battle in various manners, so I had to get them fed before 2 pm. I was pushing it. They had just enough time to eat before they hurried off to fight for our glorious Confederacy. 

The battle really could have stood a few more Yankee infantry--there were only like six? They Yankee's were literally out-numbered by the gaggle of girls pretending to be nurses. It makes me snigger because not a one of those girls really seriously seems to have any know-how on how to deal with wounded men. For instance...walking a fellow with a leg wound off the field, little girlie has him by naught but the elbow. Okay, so I know it's all play-acting and fake--but let's try to bring a little bit of reality to this, please. If a guy has a gaping hole in his leg, he isn't going to be tripping along so nicely. You're going to have to help him to walk if he can even walk and you don't do that by daintily gripping his elbow. Right. Rant over. Maybe next time I ought to just descend from my high horse and go grab the fellow. ;)

Among "our boys", Josh was first on a cannon and then helping with the wounded. He made it out unscathed. Luke was shot through the upper arm. He got by without an amputation. Andrew, poor fellow, was mauled in the leg by the grape shot and was mortally wounded, dying in the Yankee field hospital. Obadiah and Isaac, flag bearers both, made it out apparently fine. 

After the battle, some of the K's left, while the rest stayed (dear Mr. K helped Katherine with the dishes!!) and talked, laughed, and played music and sang. Josh is a guitar player so he joined us. 

The K's left closer to 6 than they did 5...and I got to carry the fellows reenacting weapons out to Luke's truck. I don't know if I'm a nut or not, but it's something of a privilege when people let me carry their firearms. ;)  There were hugs and handshakes all around and farewell if we don't see you tomorrows (we had borrowed stuff we had to drop off at their place when we left). 

I had a biscuit with butter on it for supper and got ready for the ball. The ball was fun--even though I only danced with one person for the whole evening. :D Mr. Roy was nice. This particular dance goes from 7-10, unlike most that I've been to which go from 8-11. It is actually rather nice because it allows one to get to bed earlier. 

Sunday was a nice, pretty restful day (despite the bit of rain and the need for packing). Katherine and I sat around after breakfast and before church and played hymns. While we were doing so, Hawk (who is a minister and the man to preach at the church service) come over and asked us if we felt confident enough to play for a bit before the service (like a prelude) and during his alter call. (I know, being a Presbyterian, we don't "do" alter calls, but I am not going to look down my self-righteous nose at people who do...particularly the way Hawk does them because he also calls up believers who simply have something they would appreciate prayer over. In other words, it's not just a 'give you life to Jesus' emotional gimmick [which is what some of the alter calls I've seen feel like], but a real "I want to pray with/for you" thing.)  What's more, when Hawk goes to the Word, he's serious and earnest in his handling of it. The message was both encouraging and edifying (as was the other one I've heard him preach). While I can't remember the exactly chapter/verse, the text he spoke from was out Matthew when Jesus walked on the water. He drew from it the follow points (and I forget exactly how he tied each one to the passage, but he did): 1) just as your physical person needs feeding, so does your spiritual and the way you feed your soul is by reading your Bible--and regularly. 2) We must exercise our faith--examples he gave were praying in public (don't be embarrassed or abashed to do so) and sharing the gospel with people. 3) We need fellowship with other Christians--regardless of denomination. 4) We must communicate with God--in prayer. 

We did play during the alter call (and communion! I've never had communion at a reenactment before and didn't expect to play during it but when he said--"when the music begins", I looked at Katherine and said, "Play this one!" We swung it okay. We were also sitting in the back because it's kind of our policy that we don't want to be center stage in situations of this sort.) Several people came up afterwards and thanked us for playing, saying it added to the service. We thanked them for their kind words and I at least, felt a little silly. I am pleased, naturally, that people liked the music, but we didn't play for accolades...just simply because Hawk asked us to and to try to bring glory to God. I do think that music has the ability to put people into a thoughtful mindset--particularly if they are familiar with the words of the hymns being played. I just think we need to work on a wider repertoire because Hawk asked if we might not consider doing it again next time he preaches and we are there. 

Just sayin', I think I played my guitar more in the last weekend than I have the last three months put together. It felt good. Now I need to get new strings. ;)

After church, I made lunch for us and Hawk and Jill and then we sat around for a few hours talking and minorly packing and letting the rain pass us by. Some of us did go watch the battle...and guess what? The Confederates won!

When we did finally get around to packing up in earnest, I made this awful discovery that I had apparently lost mom's set of truck keys! (Thankfully, we had a second set with us.) I still haven't found them. I asked up at the registration/command post if anyone had turned in a set of keys--someone had but they weren't mine. I didn't loose them in Abigail's car (she looked for me) and I did not find them in any of the boxes when we got home, so I am entirely at a loss. Anyway, I took the other set of keys and upon arriving at where Annabelle was parked I found that the battery was dead. Like D.E.A.D. I think the interior lights may have been accidentally left on and it drained the battery. I was going to go back and get Hawk to give me a jump (I was slightly worried that the starter had died on me--though looking back I can see various reasons that should have indicated to me that it was the battery and not related to the starter at all) and as I walked across the parking lot, "Cousin" Ron (we met him last year and helped out at their sutlery on Education Day) hailed me from across the way, "Are you dead?" "Yes!" "Hang on! I'll get you going again!" He probably had to unhook his trailer to come and jump me, but he did it with cheerfulness and in a little while, Annabelle was alive again. I thanked him profusely and he just grinned and made it clear he didn't mind at all.

At anyrate, by the time we got packed up and had eaten at least a quarter of a watermelon with Hawk and Jill, it was shortly after 6...so we headed off to the K's and caught most of their evening church service. The sermon was a good one concerning how to deal with domestic violence from a biblical perspective (I think they are working through the 10 commandments using the WLC, if I caught details right there). 

Once that was over and an amount of conversation/reflection on the sermon took place, we resorted to the front porch for popcorn and apples (rest easy, Mum! It was non-GMO corn! :D) There were puppies all over the place and I got to cuddle one or two...Obadiah piped up at my elbow, "See...you need a puppy!" I just laughed...they are sweet little dogs, but I have plenty of cats right now. ;)

We slipped off to the shop to see a WWII Willies Jeep they had in there (someone else's) and I was allowed to sit in the driver seat. Those seats were very familiar feeling...I think I was probably grinning like an absolute goof-ball the whole time! Then we went in to look at pictures Abigail had taken on a recent trip. Out of the middle of nowhere, Katherine realized the time and tapped her watch, "We need to go!" Sure enough...it was still about another 30 minutes later when we left, but at least we got started at that point. I appreciated the cup of coffee Luke prepared for the driver (me!) and we got home safe and sound around 12:30 am. Katherine sent out all the "we're home" texts to those who needed them and after a hot shower we went to bed. 

I must say that that I have had an extremely surprising amount of energy since coming home. I really didn't drag around yesterday (Monday) and go the truck unloaded and a number of things done--some of it writing on this, but I wasn't drained exhausted like I expected to be. Once again, I can say, "Praise the Lord for continued healing!!" Energy and stamina levels are increasing. 

Well, once we get lunch here, I need to get out there and start mowing. The grass has had a two week stretch again between mowings and it needs it...

Sometimes, novels really have a knack of getting a point across--or a way of wording something in a way that opens a different view of a subject to you. Even if it's something you know sometimes novels can word things so concisely that the eyebrows go up in a "I haven't heard it put that way before" style.

I am talking, by the way, of historical novels in general. Historical fiction is one of my main favorites for reading since it revolves around history without necessarily being entirely constrained to word for word quotations and even entirely "real" occurrences, thus giving both the author and the reader a little leeway to use their imaginations. NOT that I condone messing with actual fact. Let's get that straight.

I do not usually read "biographical novels" (which, let's be honest are historical fiction based on a particular real person's life) preferring to get my facts about people from their own writings and/or biographers who have done extensive research. Anyway, I am currently reading The Smiling Rebel by Harnett T. Kane. It's about Belle Boyd:

I'm not really here to delve into Miss Belle's exploits at the moment though...remember where I started "when novels..."?

I was reading along and around page 198, Belle and her papa are reading a newspaper account of Lincoln's "Emancipation Proclamation" (which, y'all really, if you read the wording is absolute poppycock since he had no jurisdiction over the areas in which he declared slaves "free"). So? So this:

And how, my dear readers, is the War for Southern Independence, remembered by the majority of people these days--from both North and South (and internationally)?

A war for or against slavery.

Was slavery an issue? Yes. Was it the issue? No. Was slavery part of the "States Rights" issue/debate? Yes. Was it the cause of the war? No; even though some people can make a compelling case that it was a strong factor. 

But look again at that quote...altered the conflict...in both sections and also for the people of other nations. Do you see it? Do you see what I saw in a way I hadn't seen before? 

When Lincoln declared war on slavery (remember peeps, he said right out the gate that his goal was to "preserve the Union" [union? when the sides hate each other? what kind of "union" is that?] and if he could do it without freeing a single slave, he would)...well, when Lincoln declared war on slavery, he defined (I should say, redefined) the terms of the conflict and very likely put the final nail in the coffin of British support for the South--since the Brits were very anti-slavery. The man who defines the terms has an upper hand. 

In conclusion of this probably slightly incoherent post, may I just say that allowing our enemy (I don't care where or when or what we're talking about) to define the terms of the fight (while occassionally inevitable) is a foolish thing to do. We end up spending our time trying to defend ourselves rather than being on the offense. We have justify our actions. Or maybe we don't have to, but we feel obliged to because we really just want to live in peace and maybe if they understand they will leave us alone. People. It doesn't work that way. The Enemy of Truth is never going to listen to Reason, Logic, or Good Morals. Live it. Fight it. Breath it. Teach it. But don't become an apologetic apologist--and I mean the person who apologizes for being right; be the apologist who unapologetically pronounces the Truth. 

P.S. I believe this stuff passionately. But...every time I talk about it, I feel guilty. I don't practice it enough. So...these pep-talks are aimed at ME as much as they are anyone else. I, like the next guy over, needs to be reminded to stand fast on the firm ground of Truth (all true truth coming from the Bible and a biblical worldview)--to define MY terms and not accept an alternation definition. We cannot let the Lincolns or Devils of this world to define our fight for us. We need to put THEM on the defense. How? Standing solid in the Word of God and what it teaches--regardless of the cost. It's easy, oh so easy, to say that. God Almighty, grant Your people the steadfastness found only in YOUR strength!! (Philippians 4:13)

Well, that's a goofy attempt at combining two subjects  into one "cool" title. See if I managed it when I reach the end of the post. ;)

First off--take a look:

I'm cast-less! Got it officially off yesterday. :) I definitely do not have full range of motion back yet, but I've been stretching a little bit every now and again over the course of the day and will keep that up. It hurts a little, but that is to be expected from muscles that have been essentially stationary for a month. However, it was​ nice to wash my hair with both hands this evening.

In other news, I had a cold for a week. Not this week, but last. I retain a left-over cough that still kind of nasty from time to time, but it's not too terrible.

Anyway, moving onto the spies bit--I finished reading Spies of the Confederacy by John Bakeless tonight. I forget exactly when I started it, but it took me long enough and yet not as long as it might have. I really enjoy Bakeless' books--having read two or three in the past. He is of that generation that knew how to write. History really is interesting, particularly when authors know how to engage their reader's attention. I gleaned some information (and hopefully some ideas) for my current CW-film project...

And now...and now I just have to figure out which book is next. I'm trying to figure out whether I want to read the bioptic novel on Antonia Ford or the book on Rose Greenhow next. I won't start anything tonight, being Saturday, so I may just go curl up with Dabney's "In Defense of Virginia and the South" and forget about picking my next read this evening. I do seem to be working the lady spies angle at the moment. I kind of started with the medical angle...so who knows where I'll actually end up beginning when I come to script writing. (By the by, in case I neglected to mention it here--the current project is actually a series of documentaries--whose length I'm not settled on--on that very interesting topic: "Confederate Women". It's a huge work and it's no wonder I am, you know, just "ever so slightly lost" in the where to start department...)

Anyway, that's that for this evenings ramble. I've been neglecting my littl' ol' blog something dreadful of late...

My lower lip is split. Thankfully, it doesn't hurt like it did yesterday. However, that remark about a split lip means nothing to you, unless you know that for two days (plus some), I spent the majority of my time out of doors, in glorious sunshine, getting a little burnt and dehydrated...

That's right, Katherine and I felt the call of another reenactment this past weekend and hit the road Friday afternoon after a wild race of a morning (for me). I had to round up and pack everything--which I normally would have done the day before we left--because Thursday had two obstacles to that. Number One: I was single-mindedly focused on finishing up my new underpinnings. I'm pleased to say that I now have enough underpinnings for three days of fresh wear. Number Two: I was not sure I was going to feel well enough to go anyway. I was down and out (still not sure how I managed to sew) all day. 

Katherine minded the shop Friday morning and so I gathered the tentage and sleeping gear out of the hayloft, brought the clothing, bedding, and kitchen boxes up from the basement, ironed the dresses, and scrambled to finish assembling the food. Mom ran to town and picked up a few more items to fill in our cooler before coming home, eating, and heading to the Farmer's Market.

When we did get out, it was someplace near 3 pm, give or take. I stopped just east of our town to see if the smell we were smelling came from our engine--couldn't locate anything off--so we continued. I did actually remember to check the gauges fairly often (I normally forget) and checked the oil at a rest stop further up the road. Everything seemed fine, so I quit worrying.

It was probably about 6-something when we arrived at our destination. We headed into the camp to find registration when we were hailed by a twice-before met acquaintance. I think it's rather safe to say that Hawk and Jill are now friends. :) But anyway, we talked for a bit then went over and registered and then crossed the road to set up.

Wouldn't you know it...we had our modern tent set up and were just starting to bring in the bedding when Hawk comes over and says something like this, "I don't know why I didn't think of this before...but we have an extra A-frame if you'd like to use that...."

​We did and we did. :)

After Hawk helped us set up (and he was right--an A-frame is easier to set up than a modern tent) we ate us a bit of supper then strolled back across the camp to Hawk and Jill's where we would stay until probably about 11:30 talking...and listening to Hawk tell Bible stories. He has quite a knack for livening them up, staying within the bounds of Scripture. The story of Jonah for instance...well, you'd have had to heard it--even with a ten minute intermission. 

I might add here, we also made the acquaintance of a young man (who reminded Katherine of one brother and me of another, but no matter) named Josh. He has an infectious grin and a sense of humor to match--so between the two men, the ladies had a deal of laughing. No complaining on that front. Anyway, it wasn't until the next day when I saw him in uniform that I realized that Josh was none other than the fella at the Coldwater dance that I had saucily asked if he were dyslexic (not very nice as I realized in reflection). I had actually been going to ask him if he were homeschooled (we have a reputation for getting our left and right mixed up, ya know), but I changed my mind at the last minute because if he hadn't been he wouldn't have understood! Turns out he was "home-teached" as he put it with an ornery look. I got to confess my folly and was forgiven of it after an, "Oh, that was you! I recognize you now..." (I was wearing the same dress and even had my hair the same!!)

Anyway...we finally straggled off to bed and poor Katherine didn't have enough blanket on Night One.

Saturday morning, I woke up and had to ask Katherine for her camera...I had a couple of views out from under the tent edges that I had to shoot.

After dressing, I fired up the propane single burner (yes, yes...I know, so authentic! But remember--we were planning on modern camping) and made coffee then...scrambled eggs. 

Last time, I forgot the butter and the K's were so gracious as to speedily hand me a stick when I shamelessly asked if I could 'borrow' some. This time, I remembered the butter--but I forgot the spatula to turn the eggs with! Thus, scrambled it was. Can't get anything perfect when you're out of practice, you know...

After breakfast, we then meandered back across to bug Hawk, Jill, and Josh as we would end up doing for the majority of the weekend. Hawk was fixing to make a Celtic knot "thump mat" for a hot pad and I ended up "helping" by pulling the on the rope. Josh pulled out his smart phone (so the things do come in handy from time to time) to get directions. Hawk said he's made a ton of these things, but he just couldn't remember how to get it started because it had been awhile.

There was to be a "wash-day" scenario that devolved (planned) into a water fight in the morning. Well, I got talked into helping out since they had a dearth of ladies to help. (Who am I kidding? I didn't require much by way of arm twisting to get me out there, despite I didn't have another outfit to change into.) I was really only supposed to get mildly damp, but a little girl who joined in the fun didn't know that and dumped a tin cup full of water down my back. Well! I got her back a couple of times. ;) Probably the most disconcerting part of the whole thing was this little boy who had joined in the water fight. He was already quite wet and was soaking other people thoroughly, so I picked up a small bucket of water and snuck up behind him and dumped it on him. I was not expecting the nasty look I got. If he'd have been a dog, he'd probably have growled and bit me. As it was, he took after me with a vengeful air. Some sport, what? (The difference between me going after the little girl and the little boy coming after me was that I was really not upset by the cold water running down my back and the young man was angered by it. That's the difference. I was playful, he was vengeful. I just don't quite understand that.....)

Next on the agenda, after lunch, and more talk, and strolling through the sutlers (I did not purchase anything this time), was the battle!

The event planners split the six-hour battle of Ball's Bluff, Virginia into two days. Saturday, "we" were repulsed by the Yankee's on the high ground, but on the Lord's Day, the tyrants were firmly defeated.

Here's the first day in pictures:

And the second (Katherine's camera battery died before the end of the battle):

Anyway...back to Saturday. After the battle, we ended back up at Hawk and Jill's and a couple of us pulled our guitars out and singing and playing commenced for a bit. We had a little visitor who just loves music and really didn't care how bad or beautiful any given person sang, just so long as they sang!

While this was going on, suddenly, firing broke out from the battlefield! It's too bad that Katherine didn't get a picture of Josh dashing through the line of tents, rifle in hand. 
We ladies ended up by the battlefield where we observed the impromptu skirmish--and a bit of an anomaly: 

Later that evening, Hawk would prepare some fish in one of the neighbor's fires...Rainbow trout. It was good. :) Katherine took a few more interesting pictures before we headed off to bed.

Sunday's church service was the best attended reenactment church service I have ever been to. There were even a number of spectators who participated. I was pleasantly surprised to see the entire seating area was full. Hawk and Jill guesstimated somewhere between 45-50 people. More importantly than numbers however, was the spirit of the thing. While definitely not what my Reformed Presbyterian self it used to, the atmosphere was reverent (more than what I can say for some "reformed" churches I have been to). But all the elements where there--singing, prayers, and teaching from the Word of God. (Josh asked me in a half-scold, "You didn't bring your guitar?" I wasn't quite sure how serious he was the night before when he asked me what I wanted to play next morning...I guess whenever next time is, I'll help him accompany the singing!) The message, while not long or deeply "theological", was both informative and edifying. Katherine and I had actually already heard the body of it Friday evening, but it didn't hurt to hear it again. :) Did you know that in the first verses of John 14 (Passover), that Christ was quoting the Hebrew marriage ceremony? Let that sink in....

Shortly after the church service, the event planners had scheduled another "washing" scenario--only this time, it was giving a couple of soldiers a bath! (We did not participate. And the men were still fully clothed, by the way--just so's you know.)

At roughly the same time, a young man showed up at Hawk and Jill's tent in nothing but his undershorts--because he was supposed to get into Hawk's long red underwear and be paraded around in the barrel that proclaims "Do not Drink or Gamble". Well, it became apparent after a bit that he was too large for the red flannel underwear--so he crawled into the barrel in just his shorts (with a little help from Josh):

He was then summarily paraded through the camp, Jackie ringing the bell to declare the way before him and the rowdy crowd of his pals. He was such a great sport about it, even offering to do it again next time...At the end of the line, he got an admonishment from Hawk (I really have no idea what was said)... 

It wasn't too long after this that we ate our lunches and converged on the battlefield. This time, Katherine and I sat up by the Union artillery (why? Dunno...) and watched the battle as it unfolded and the Yankees got wiped out. I do admit though, that only two or three "dead" Confederates was a little unrealistic.

After the battle, we sat around with Jill and Hawk for a bit, discussing church and such things, said "adios" to Josh, who left almost immediately, and then went and broke down camp ourselves. Returning the tent to Hawk, we said our farewells (we would have stayed and helped them breakdown, but I actually think we would have been more in the way than help because when one knows where everything goes and how things get taken down, having to stop and give directions slows them down), and hit the road. I think I munched most of the way home to keep myself alert. I'm also glad we stopped and got a cup of coffee north of FW. I needed it.

Upon arriving home, we unloaded the stuff that came into the house and I forthwith slid into my bee gear to do some unplanned and unusual for Sunday bee-work. The bees were bearding bad enough to get attention. I think they were simply hot, but I went ahead and added a super on to each hive since both colonies were quickly running out of room.

Thus far is the story of the Turkeyville Civil War reenactment....

And I suddenly realized--I don't have that lovely picture of Katherine up!! (I am not bragging on my photography skills--snapping pictures has nothing to do with the photogenic-ness of your subject...)

What do you know? Only five General Jones! (To go back to the end of the last post.)

​General Thomas Jordan was apparently in charge of some Confederate espionage and (according to Wiki) Rose O'Neal Greenhow's, I quote, "handler". Very interesting...

There were six general Lees:

I'll leave you with the Lee's this evening....

Now here's an interesting fact. Mrs. Abe Lincoln had a half sister married to a Confederate General--Benjamin Hardin Helm. 

​I wonder if General Theophilus H. Holmes was acquainted with some of my cousins?? He was born in Sampson County, North Carolina where some of my folks hailed from pre-war....

There were SIX Confederate General Jacksons:

And here we have General Adam Rankin Johnson (one of four CS Gen'l Johnsons). He acquired the nickname "Stovepipe" in the following fashion:

"He was well respected for his bravado, once capturing the town of Newburgh, Indiana from a large Union unit with only twelve men and a length of stovepipe mounted to a wagon. The Union soldiers, fearing the "cannon" surrendered..." (from his Find-a-Grave page)

Now...I wonder how many General Jones there were...I guess I'll find out soon! :D

Maybe you'll find a few more tidbits over here tomorrow...but that's all for today! 

I think that I just must make this a series...  "Musket Echoes: Historical Teasers from the War Between the States". 

Anyway...the episode was actually compiled over two days. I am just doing "skimming" sort of research at the moment, so nothing overly spectacular is going to show here. I'm rather running down three main separate, but oh-so-interconnected things right now...I'm practically living and breathing Civil War/Confederate history when my brain is moving at all.