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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Is it January 2018 already? Good gracious! Did 2017 ever fly by in a blur or what? I'll be hitting the highlights here...and maybe with the pictures available, I'll be able to pull some extra memories for you. ;)

January 

Well, I don't remember too much from this month. We had our usual "Little" Christmas (Epiphany) on the 6th. The 17th or so, Katherine and I had an appointment with our Lyme doctor in Ohio. Sometime in the following two weeks, my parents loaded up with Grandma had headed to the deep South for a few months...which turned into a full five month stay in the Sunshine State.

February

There is really only one thing that stands out for me from February...a trip a little further north to attend/participate in a "Homeschool Show and Tell Day" put on by some friends. Now, neither Katherine or I are (or were) still in school, but we were still welcomed with open arms and presented. I gave a spiel on WWII B-17 bomber crews, with a special emphasis on 'Yahoodi'. Katherine spoke on the British Land Girls. The other "children" spoke on things from emergency shelters, rope ladders, family history,  gun safety, and clouds. (There was more, those are just the ones I'm remembering off hand.)

Glancing through my photos, I see this is also the month that I rag-curled (or sausage curled) Katherine's hair...and she finished her first 1860's dress.

 March

I had to look at the pictures for this one...Apparently, the only thing of note was continued work on reenactor prep for later in the year. I took in one of my first ever 1860's outfits (the one which Katherine had worn for reenacting 2016) and was delighted with the outcome. (I sure look like it, right? :D)

In other news, Katherine is just so photogenic...

April

This month saw more 1860's clothing construction, the arrival of my new bees, and a road trip to Illinois to visit some friends and celebrate Katherine's birthday! All in all, I guess we were rather buzzy...

May

This whole month was leading up to the "Grand Finale" the Civil War Days reenactment in Coldwater! We did actually go to the Hartford City Civil War days as well--but just for one day--we cut it short because Katherine got to feeling lousy before the day was over. But taking care of one's health is far more important than gallivanting. The following shots are from Hartford City.

I'll leave you to read the Coldwater blog post if you want more details...but a picture or two are in order here.

June

There were two main events in June...Turkeyville and another doctor's appointment in Ohio. Honestly, I cannot remember which was first. We'll list Turkeyville as first though...

On our way home from our Dr.'s appointment, we stopped at some church friend's house to pick cherries! Another new experience.

Oh yes...the folks got back from Florida on the 28th, I believe...just in time for the scramble for our Independence Day party!

July

No doubt about it. July the 4th is probably my favorite holiday--I may love it more than Christmas. :D So, our now annual shindig with friends is a wonderful highlight of the year.

Also of note in July, I had my first ever honey harvest.

August

Hmm...August. We were supposed to start sewing for RWWII in August, but with the discovery of MOLD in the parent's closet, that was put on hold and the contents of said closet moved out while the remediation and renovation took place. Meanwhile, Katherine and I took a two day jaunt to go help some friends with their chicken butchering. They do things differently than we do, but new experiences aren't a bad thing. 

September 

As has become the norm over the past several years, September was RWWII from start to finish. Sewing. Sewing. Sewing. And more sewing. (No kidding, I finished four aprons the very morning we left for the event.) If you want to read all about it, go here. My parents and Grandma were going to come this year, but Hurricane Irma threw a monkey wrench into that, so we girls went off by ourselves again, collecting a few friends along the way.

Photos are either from our friends cameras or the RWWII FB page.

There really wasn't much else to September...we got home and crashed. Then picked up a new weekly routine as October arrived.

October

That new routine? Every Tuesday until the first week of December (minus one), found Katherine and I off on an evening excursion to practice Handel's "Messiah"! A new experience that I hope to repeat next year--only singing tenor rather than alto. ;)

Also in October, I hit 26. 

I've "missed" years before, but up until this year, I'd never had a "hard" birthday (I thought the idea simply silly). Turning twenty-six was hard for me, but I think I've moved past the emotional upheaval I went through at the realization I was closer to thirty than twenty and still single...and still fighting illness. Just ask the family. It was a rather rough couple of weeks for me. Sometimes, you really have to force yourself to stare into the fact that God is sovereign and works all things for your own good. Even if you are to stinkin' stubborn to acknowledge it. 

The end of October saw my older sister (pregnant with her first baby) going into early labor...so off the parents went to help out. They stayed til the baby was born...but that happened in November.

November 

Savannah just kept holding on...and ended up having the baby on her due date! Almost an entire month after she got put on bed rest.

I did the first stages of winterizing by myself:

This was my first Thanksgiving ever without my parents, but Katherine and I pulled together to make a traditional spread, hauled it out to Grandma's apartment and had a jolly enough time eating and gabbing. 

Of course, I know you want to know about the baby...

Mom and Dad got home with just a couple of days to spare before the end of November. 

December 

The month started out with a bang--the "Messiah" performance! (Photos courtesy of friends.) 

It was a two-day performance--Saturday evening and Sunday afternoon. We left on Sunday (after showing baby pictures to the K's) and headed straight to Ohio for our Lyme doctor appointment. Dr. Ritchey thinks we are far enough along, and know enough how to keep fighting, that she told us she didn't think we really *needed* to come back, so we do not have a scheduled "next appointment". It's a little odd after three years. 

Between that weekend and Christmas, it was life...prepping for Christmas. I have been dealing with a skin infection on my feet for over a month, and as December ended it was finally beginning to really look like it was actually going away. Thankfully, it quit being horribly red, swollen, and itchy!! early in December.

Then of course...Christmas!

We ended the year out with a weekend trip (which ended up with us staying an extra half day due to exhaustion) to ring in the New Year! The weekend was a blast--cold(!!), ice-skating, talking, music, Chinese Lanterns, ringing in the New Year (a day early, but who cares), a slight snow fight (started by your's truly), food and more fellowship. 

Katherine and I went by ourselves because Grandma couldn't go and Daddy didn't really want to leave Mom behind and Mom didn't want to go without him (and vice versa), so anyway, that's why the two gal's hit the road for an overnighter (which turned into a two-night stay) by themselves.

A small smattering of photos...I think we need to learn how to use our new camera a little better, but photos are still photos when they are grainy!

The long and short of the year 2017 is this: it went by fast and in a blur, but God's hand of grace and provision and healing can be seen at every turn looking back. In some ways it was a really hard year to me, but God used (and is still using) the bumps to turn my weak and sinful heart more to Him and to seek after Him more faithfully. I look forward to where my path is going to lead in this next year!

Happy New Year 2018!!

As I sit here, with a bit of a headache (dehydration catching up with me), I realize there is so much...and yet I seem to have so few words...or even worse, few distinct stories to regale you with. Perhaps the whole weekend was colored by the passing of Bob. I think more than that though, I was in a new role and was therefore slightly uncertain and more timid feeling than usual. Still, with that said, I really did have a wonderful time and I hope that the H young'uns that we brought along with us had as good as a time as Katherine and I did!

Alright, moving into the chronological telling of the tale. 

The week before was solid work (that is not a complaining statement). I woke up earlier than usual and hit the ground running--not taking my usual hour over coffee and Bible (not that I entirely skipped either). While I might not necessarily read, I took time to place my upcoming day before the feet of the All-knowing Father, seeking to bring Him the glory in the labors of my hands. There were several days where I had started sewing again before I even had my breakfast!

Thursday morning (the 21st) I intended to sleep in a little--it didn't happen. I woke up and just got right up and whipped up four more aprons. I didn't get around to packing my clothes until that morning either, though I pretty much had Annabelle packed the day before. I had wanted to get out before we did, but I guess I can't complain too much since we didn't really have any Thursday deadlines. 

We got to our first destination, the H's sometime in the evening. We ate supper and then socialized for a bit before everyone headed to their respective places of repose. R's bed is far squishier than I'm used to, but I guess I zzz-ed off pretty well. 

Friday morning, as seems to be my habit when elsewhere than my own home, I woke up before anyone else. I confess that having to stay abed to keep from waking other people up can be a little hard for me since when I'm awake I like to get up.

Anyway, the long and the short is, I got R and L's things packed into the truck and we all headed on our way before 10 am.

As of Thursday night there had been two planned stops on the way down. One to see the H's newest grandbaby (R hadn't seen her new nevy yet) and the other to see Bob, my vet friend. Friday morning, I learned that he had passed early that morning, so one of the stops wasn't going to happen. We did stop and see the baby though--and I even got to hold the tiny man!

From there we continued south, our destination Linden, Tennessee. We stopped again at some point once we got into Tennessee for lunch at a Mexican restaurant and gas at a nearby station. From here I called Bob's nephew to learn a few more details concerning the viewing and funeral. The funeral was scheduled for Sunday afternoon. We were going. Period. Not that anyone argued with me on that subject.

We arrived in Linden, got ourselves registered and headed over to set up at the vendor area. Turns out, set up didn't start until 5 (for some reason I thought it was 3-8, not 5-8), so we turned tail and headed back out of town, planning to set up our tents on the Courter's property. I would like to give testimony here to the kind of gracious people they are. Apparently Mrs. Courter tried calling me (cell reception is weird down there and it didn't show up that she had called until nearly mid-day next day), but when that failed she sent Mr. Courter after us. Said gentleman chased us all the way to his home to inform us that we were free and welcome to stay in their cabin there on the property! I won't say I hemmed and hawed much. We have no A/C in the truck and it was nothing short of hot and the notion of running water, bathroom facilities, and a window A/C unit was too tempting to argue with. I gladly accepted for our party and we refolded the one tent that we had out and the tarp and hauled our clothing and food into the cabin before turning about and heading back into town to get the vendor stuff unloaded.

The three youngest K boy's showed up while we were unloading and helped out. Then I gave them a lift back to the encampment area. Aren't they just the handsomest? ;)

It was time for dinner, so the H's, the K's and we two girls managed to find seating together and enjoyed our meal (Kt and I had our own food since spaghetti was once again on the menu) before transferring seating for the Friday night movie: The Perfect Specimen. It was a goofy late 1930's film...and L decided that he must razz me over my driving after that as the main female character drove quite enthusiastically. Honestly, I did not sling my passengers the way she would have done had she had any!
​ 
Once the movie was over, we split up pretty quick and headed out in our separate directions--tomorrow was the big day!

Saturday morning, we did manage to get into town by 7:15 (it required getting up around 5:30). Paul, a friend and fellow Veteran Area Volunteer, had told me that I needed to be in the Vet Area by 7:30 for our briefing. Well, somehow that briefing never materialized, so I went off of the things I had read in the emails sent out to the volunteers and tried to be helpful--though I think I really did more talking to friends, new acquaintances, and veterans than I did actual helpful things. And the one time I did, chasing after David N. to go collect water for the vets after the Vet Photo (hot sun, you know), by the time we got back we discovered that someone had already done the job! Oh well. 

I would be in and out of the Vet Area all day long (after all, it was my duty station). I took several walks down to the vendor area for water and such like as well as taking a rather quick turn through the Historical Exhibits building where I learned a few interesting things from a lady with a field nurse's impression/display. 

I watched the first battle from the spectator side of the line with R and L and Bob's nephew Eric who came to see me and give me a few more details about Sunday's funeral. He wanted to see one of the speakers as well, but that particular gentleman was unable to attend at the last minute. (Once again, I didn't catch any of the offical speakers. In fact, I forgot about them!) I did talk to half a dozen (at least) vets--only one of whom I "knew"--that would be Verl--the man who has "two of those" (cheeks--and gets a kiss on each one. ;) )

Anyway--the morning battle senario--the Germans take the town from the Allies. They had soldiers on the roofs this year which was a new touch.

Shortly after that last shot in the gallery, the Allies got pushed back by the Germans again, and the battle ended with the Germans in control of the town.

Lunch time rolled around and I slid into line with R and L--right behind Obadiah and Isaac! 

I got a hamburger and big fat dill pickle for myself and a brat for Katherine. What with that, two bottles of water, and a couple bags of chips, I was loaded down (with pickle juice dripping down my hand)--and as I was headed for the cross-walk I looked to see Luke K. standing on the other side of the road. He grinned real big and spread his hands--it could have either been, "Where's mine?", "Need a hand?", or "That's Racheal for you...." I think I just laughed. 

When I got across the street, he asked, "Have you seen my mom?" And she was coming up behind him as he spoke...anyway...a couple of humorous incidents all combined in the same five minutes. 

One really surprising thing that happened though was as Mr. K and I were walking down the sidewalk at one point during the day, I heard someone call my name, "Racheal!" I looked over at the speaker, a pretty girl in a red dress and I stared. I recognized the face...and as I was fumbling for the name, she leaned forward and said, "Madison." I forget exactly what I blurted, something like "Madison---what are you doing here?" I haven't seen this young lady since mutual friends wedding and didn't even know she was in this part of the country, so it was really surprising to see her smiling at me. It was a pleasant meeting, though we didn't actually stand and chat for very long.

Other random happenings included photos like the following:

The Veteran's parade was headed up by the 101st Airborne Division's Band again this year:

The afternoon battle was roughly the opposite of the morning battle--the Allies retook the town from the Germans:

Shortly after the second battle, I reappeared in the vendor area and helped with the breakdown. (Unfortunately, we left our rack weights behind the parking lot!) We hurried off back to the Courter's property to clean up and change for the dinner. I missed the volunteer photo but we had a little fun by ourselves. ;)

We didn't miss out on dinner though. There were only about four chairs, so the ladies were provided seats while the gents either shared chairs or ate sitting on their knees! Our party consisted of most of the K's (at various times), the H's, Paul, Jonathan B., and us...it was an enjoyable company.

The USO show took place during dinner and we kind of sorta missed most of it...but what we saw/heard was enjoyable.

After dark (around 9:15 or so), the fireworks started.

We tried not to stick around too late because everyone was tired (and some of us were sunburned), but as the K's were headed to a different church service in the morning, we tried to make the most of our remaining minutes...it's always so hard to break away and say goodbye to the people you enjoy being with.

The girls (Katherine, R, and myself) stayed up a little late talking about life "things"...it was good conversation that stands out. We did eventually get to bed and off to sleep...

Sunday morning, we worshiped at the First Baptist Church--Mr. Courter spoke and I must say that the service actually felt like a worship service this year rather than a patriotic service (like last year). We stayed for lunch then headed out shortly after to attend Bob's funeral.

Bob's funeral was as good as a funeral can be. I believe that Johnny (Bob's brother) really did appreciate the fact that we came. It was a smallish kind of funeral, most of the people attending being on the older side, but small doesn't mean a man was not loved.

From the funeral we headed straight back to the H's house. We got in after dark and found the whole of the H clan (that I know) encamped in the living room. It was grand to see Andrew...

We didn't leave from the H's til shortly after noon on Monday...and so we got home safely with no issues.

We both had a good time, despite sad happenings. And...as usual...I'm already looking forward to next year!

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...

I got distracted this afternoon when I went to the barn and cranked Annabelle, the green Ford, and the "Navy Ambulance Van". I got distracted for sure poking around my truck. Not my GMC pick-up in Florida...but my 1942 Chevrolet Army Truck.

I poked around, got in, sat behind the wheel, turned the key--which did absolutely nothing--mainly because I later realized she's not hooked up to a battery at all. I crawled up on the fender and peered into the engine, calling out to myself the various parts of the engine I know and am at least vaguely aware of how they function. There is some wiring that needs replacing for sure. 

Then, while waiting for the other vehicles to run a little longer, I went and I sat in a green plastic chair and just looked at the old girl.

That's when it hit me. I knew she needed a name (most of our vehicles are named, you know) and it came to me all of sudden and felt right.

Bobbie Mae.

Bobbie--because she was Grandpa's before she was mine and his name was Robert. He went by Bobby as a boy.

Mae--because I thought "Bobbie Mae" sounded like a nice 1940-ish name. Maybe something a feller would have nicknamed his ride--be it a truck or a plane. (I also had a great-grandmother on my dad's side with that name as her second name.)

Anyway, Bobbie Mae needs work--a lot of it. Like several thousand dollars worth, I reckon. Still...someday, I want to restore her to her former glory. And so...I day dreamed. 

I hardly think I'll be able to get started on her this spring like I half-seriously dreamed last fall...but it sure would be nice. I need to do reading, parts research, historical research...and learn how to drive a manual. :D 

Too many projects--and not a one of them galloping along with any speed. You'd think my projects were all astride an ancient nag...eh well. We'll have to see if a good night's sleep puts any pep back into that nag... ;)

Off to bed shortly,

New-ish? Sure. I'm not any different no matter what the calendar says. Anyway, getting on the bandwagon of "year in review" blog post...here's a whirlwind view of the past year--skipping the down-days, the blah days...the days when I walked in circles (much like today) because I couldn't settle into anything very well. (I guess I'm doing the cooking, so that is helpful! ;] )

January:

Glancing through my photos, I suddenly recall that I got high off sugar during Little Christmas....I really felt kinda lousy. 

February: 

March:

April:

I mastered the art of pin-curling 3+ feet of hair. (Hmm. I ought to do this again soon. It's been several months....)

We went home (we meaning us, the K girls, the R bro's, Aunt Terry, and the S's) and did some more cooking that night. Andy kept us tearing along with a good rhythm, Savannah went to bed first and I last--at 2 am. I proceeded to sleep but for roughly 2 hours total. I wouldn't recommend that because you have trouble remembering the Big Day.

May:
Honestly...was spent I think majorly prepping for a reenactment!
The majority of the reenactment shots are courtesy Abigail. I'm already planning for this years event!

I could seriously overload you with shots...but I'll leave May at that. ;)

June:

July:
We had a number of friends over to celebrate Independence Day...

Meanwhile, Grandpa had been taken to the Dr. on the 3rd (we thought for dehydration again)...but after nearly a month in the hospital, he passed on the 24th. I cannot remember off the top of my head, which day the funeral was.

Savannah was able to come for the last week before Grandpa passed. Odd it is, how it was almost like she'd never been gone. I guess family is like that...

​August:
SEWING. Prep for a ball given by friends that month and also for Remembering WWII the following month.

September:
The Focus was undoubtedly Remembering WWII (prep and attendance). 

October:
More sewing--pinner apron for me, dresses for Katherine. More working on the tent...

We packed it away overnight one evening because it was supposed to rain...well, just in case you didn't know, mineral spirits treated canvas, if not fully dry, has the potential of spontaneous combustion if folded...

I can only say that it is a good thing that I had already decided, due to the way both Katherine and I were feeling, that the trip to Perryville was going to be scrubbed. So...we moved onto the next project. Getting the carpets out of my bedroom and painting it:

November: 
I guess it was fairly eventful...

December: 
The month of Christmas. 

Daddy got his Christmas present early--a new couch and matching chair and ottoman. Below are two of the moving crew (Mom made some remark about needing some [local] son-in-laws because that furniture was heavy!)

We do not generally "do Christmas" if it lands on Sunday, but for Grandma's sake this year, we joined her in the evening for some festivities.

We have no photos from our day-before New Years Day excursion further north--but that was an enjoyable time spent with friends and even new experiences! I went ice-skating for the first time in my life and had an absolute blast despite some falls! 

It's 2017 now and as I upped one of my meds two days ago, I'm struggling with a little of that "extra detox" brain fog and fatigue. Still, I hope you enjoyed this peek into the past year... :) Now...I have a job to do. See y'all!

You may be wondering why, as it is Wednesday, that I am writing of Monday's adventures. Eh...that's a story we'll get to in a few moments, so bear with me. ;)

Monday I worked some on getting stuff out of Savannah's room and back into mine--I pulled all my yarn out of the dresser that isn't going back into my room and packed it into several Vitacost boxes. Mmmhhhm...I need to knit a little more. (I recently sold a pair of socks via my Etsy shop, so I do actually move the things from time to time!) Anyway, between boxing up the yarn and putting it on my new shelves and arranging my hat collection on the same said shelving, that is about all I got done in the morning. Very sad, I know--but we are such terrible slow-pokes in the mornings!

Well, I drafted back upstairs some time after lunch and piddled about a little more til I decided that I would turn my attentions to my "foot-locker" (actually a covered wooden box). I planned, ever since hauling it north from Florida that I was going to eventually strip off the old covering and recover it...or something. "Well," thought I, "now is as good a time as any. I'm more likely to get it done if I do it before I put it back into my room."

Following this line of reasoning, I pulled it's contents out (costumes and various reenacting and/or prop gear) and hauled the greatly lightened box to the garage where I began pulling staples and tiny nails. After I took the hinges off, that is.

I whipped out my pocket knife and started cutting off the vinyl material. Almost as soon as I began cutting, I started to get just a little excited....

Let me step back a moment and explain that I assumed that Grandmother had covered this box in the early to mid-sixties due to the apparent age of a particular relative who had scrawled her name in crayon on the back of it. It clearly had been the kids toybox.

Anyway, as the vinyl came off, I discovered that Grandmother had first covered the box with newspaper and then the brown material. It was the newspapers that got me excited.

I don't suppose it was even so much the newspaper at first as the date on it. She had used portions of the November 1, 1953 edition of the Miami-Herald to cover this box. Notably, the sports pages and some ads.

1953.

Grandmother and Granddaddy did not meet until 1958. So--this box had been covered not only a rough decade before the time I assumed it had, but even before my grandparents first laid eyes on each other! Things like that kind of give me a variety of jitters. I suppose Anne of Green Gables would define that as a "thrill". ;)

I took pictures of most of the newspaper, thinking that some of my friends might enjoy looking at the old ads in particular.

About this time, I decided to go take care of the chickens in my normal evening routine. I'll leave you there for the moment and finish the box story. It was determined after Daddy pulled the cardboard out of the bottom and uncovered--mold--that we should just pitch it. Well, bummer, but okay. I'm all for getting rid of mold infested "things".

Anyway, back to the chickens. Some of y'all already know where this is headed, but another telling hurts nothing. ;)

I had already fed the layers and collected the eggs and moved on out to feed the meat birds. I cleared out the first tractor and bent my knees and back into the heave-ho routine. I had perhaps another three feet to go when the strap's s-hook slipped off the PVC frame (I've never had this happen before). Naturally, as I was in mid-pull, I went sailing backwards into the clover. I landed primarily on my right leg/side and that didn't hurt much. BUT (you knew that was coming, didn't you?) somehow, with the left arm all rag-doll floppy, I whacked my left wrist into the ground. My palm was facing the ground, but also tilted up a bit...rather like a shallow 'v' if you were looking at my arm and hand from the side. Anyway, the wrist hit first and as I rolled into a sitting position, I knew. 

My wrist had gone immediately stiff. 

It didn't really hurt, but I knew before I got to my feet that I'd just broke a bone for the third time in five years. 

I'm actually still in the splint they put on me at Med-Express (faster and cheaper than the ER--probably nicer too :] ). I go to see an orthopedic doctor tomorrow morning before lunch. I admit that I am slightly disappointed that I couldn't view the x-rays on my computer--wrong file type. I like looking at the x-rays so that I can really see the break--but I was informed that it was just the radial bone--clear across. I guess I must have bashed it just right...

SO...anyway. I'm just grateful that I cracked the ol' left wrist rather than busting the right one again!!

Leading up to D-day, we were busy as buzzz-bees (excuse the song references that may find themselves working their way into this recitation) sewing and going all around nutty--in my case at any rate. I wanted to get out by 10 am on Friday so bad that I pushed so hard that I forgot a number of items--for instance, wash-water and my Sunday clothes. Well. And for all that, we still didn't pull out until near 11 am!

Anyway, to back up a wee bit, our sweetheart of a friend Miss K. came along this year and with her came her brother N. N got me laughing so hard that we had to tell him to tone it down because, as the driver, I needed to be able to see--which I can't do when laughing as hard as I was. Anyway, in between spurts of jokes and PSA's N napped as did K. It's a phenomena that I can't quite get my head around--how does one drop off to sleep like that?

So Friday. Like I said, I wanted to get out by 10 (hoping for even earlier) and we didn't make it out until 11. N helped me to load the truck while the girls continued to get their beauty rest (and I don't mean that snarky at all--I was fine with them still being in bed because I went to bed earlier than they had and I also know that tent camping isn't exactly the most conducive to fantastic sleep and neither one of them is exactly in one-hundred percent tip-top health [me either for that matter])...but anyway we managed to squeeze everything and everyone in eventually and headed south. I drove a little faster than I had wanted to, but I really, really, REALLY wanted to arrive before dark so that we didn't have to set up after nightfall like we had last year.

Well, we arrived, signed in and decided to skip supper (which turned out to be spaghetti again which at least two of us couldn't eat anyway) in order to go set up at the Courter's place where we camped last year. I think we even got the exact same spot....

After doing a rush-job there, we whizzed back into town, windows down, soaking up the Tennessee air and rolled into the vendor area where we unpacked nearly all the rest of the truck and got the tables and tent set-up, leaving the boxes packed--which due to the amount of humidity (read "DEW") was smart--everything would have been as wet as we were in the tent that night. 

They were fixing to play the Friday evening movie, so we hauled our coolers back to an unoccupied table and supped upon the contents. I about choked a couple of times over the Walt Disney scrap-drive cartoon. It was highly amusing.

It is clear to me, looking at the photos, that our photographer didn't ask anyone to take her picture and none of us were considerate enough to think of it. Sorry Katherine!! Kick me next time please! (One of our quad was fast asleep hugging a bench, so he naturally wouldn't have thought of it. ;] )

During the film, an acquaintance dropped by and we probably talked for 15-30 minutes discussing what our respective families have been up to since the last time we had spoken as well as trivial things like what was going on on the screen "up there". It was nice to see Paul.

We rolled on out after the film at some point and hit the sack. I didn't sleep very grandly, as the ground felt harder than usual and I also felt like I was going to roll down hill if I relaxed. Anyway, I slept enough to get me through the day without falling apart. :D 

Saturday didn't go exactly as I had planned, as I had intended/hoped to catch some of the speakers, spend some greater amount of time gabbing with a dear friend, attend what I'm sure was a very cool presentation of aerial training, and also spend a little more time looking at things, as well as being a bigger help at the vendor area. However, though things didn't go as planned, it was fine because I got to spend quite a lot of time with Bob, whom I call my "best beau":

I took undue delight in introducing my friends to Bob--even at one point marching importantly across the street to accost Luke K. (who, along with his dad, was dressed in a sailor's uniform) and demanding (probably very much impishly) if he'd like to meet a real sailor! Thus I drug nearly the whole K. family across to meet Bob and got to listen to him tell stories again. :)

Speaking of Bob, the Boyer Sisters serenaded him personally  with "Boogie Woogie Bugle Boy" and he was truly delighted. In fact, I think he was pretty pleased with all my friends because he told me later, "You have a bunch of real nice friends." So, for any of you reading this--THANK-YOU!! You helped make a 96-year-old sailorman happy! 

I have so far neglected to mention that Johnny (Bob's brother) was there too. Johnny left before Bob did, but it was real nice to see him too. The two of them are still best friends and quite a pair!

I may return to Bob here in abit, but for now, I'm going to grasp at a few other Saturday memories while they are in my head.

THERE WAS A B-17 FLYOVER. 

Mr. K and Luke were at our vendor tent, replete in their sailor's duds, and I can't remember if I was in the middle of a sentence or not, all I remember is, I saw her coming and as she roared overhead, bomb bay door open, I literally tore out the back side of the tent (probably with some sort of thrilled exclamation) and waved frantically. I later felt that I was probably a bit rude, but since they also enjoyed seeing "Sentimental Journey" fly over, that it was okay. :D Oh well, now the K's know how I react to old warbirds. It's odd how excited I get over a hunk of flying steel....

I grabbed K at some point and we went off to get ourselves a half-track ride...only it really was a troop-truck. :) Still, it was fun! We were squeezed in nice and tight and I struck up a conversation with the girl on the other side of me (Julianne, I think it was) and I actually forget what all we talked about--but I think I remember correctly that she was from Alabama. Still, it was a nice little, somewhat hollared conversation and we grinned at each other when we saw one other later on. 

There was a BT-13 (Daddy said, "Basically a fixed gear T-6") which they did a training demo with, but I didn't hear that because I was up near the courthouse with Bob, rather than down at the encampment. However, Bob and I enjoyed watching the plain roaring overhead and he got to talking about how it can be overwhelming when you have 40 planes diving at you...the noise brought back some memories for him, but he didn't seem overly disturbed. He tells me that he was never really frightened, he fell back on his training so much that he just wasn't scared. He mentioned how when the Hornet was attacked at the time that he hurt his back, "I had on my anti-flash suit and life vest and I don't remember putting them on."

There were also a number (say two or three) other planes that I'm not calling to mind their make, though definitely radials, with fixed wings on the lower side of the fuselage, likely trainers of some sort that flew around both during the battles and not--and when the Veteran's Parade was underway.

Bob and Johnny didn't want to be in the Veteran's Parade; in fact, Johnny left before it started, but I stood around with Bob watching it and talking with him and his nephew Eric some more. I think a number of the K's were still there at that point too, so it was a nice homey group (I just about put homely...which certainly wasn't the case).

The morning battle saw the Krauts taking over the town and in the afternoon battle the Allies took it back. We were down in the vendor area for both battles, and looking at the spectator area's crowdedness, perhaps that wasn't a bad idea. Sure, there was more action up that street, but we might not have been able to see any better anyway.

There were both more reenactors and spectators this year in addition to more vehicles. The German's had a tank:

And some sort of armoured car which Katherine apparently didn't get a picture of; there were some motorcycles, an armoured troop carrier, and an armed Volkswagon! 

Speaking of motorcycles, the German medic rode one...and there is a story to go with him.

There was a young American soldier who was the only surviving member of his squad and he found a barrel to hide behind as the German's pushed into town:

Well, that there Kraut Medic pointed him out to the troopers in front of him--and they shot the poor fellow!

I didn't actually see this go down, but Katherine did and so I thought I would share the story; particularly as she has photographic proof...

I don't have a plethora of battle stories this time, but I do recall seeing this man take a hit...and then his helmet and helmet liner sit there and rock back and forth:

Oh, and by the way, here's an example of what not to do in the middle of a battle:

Also, right there with this same jeep, there was a man who appeared to be sniping--thing is, he took forever to aim, then lowered his rifle and fiddled with it for a bit, and then brought it back up and took forever to aim again...and never squeezed the trigger. There was something strangely awkward about the whole situation...perhaps it was the fact that at one point he looked over at me and it seemed like he was aware of the fact that I was watching him intently. I don't know, but that incident sticks out rather oddly.

And just for good measure, one blurry, but maybe artistic shot of the same jeep:

So I like that one for some reason.

Speaking of jeeps and military vehicles, for the past couple of years, I've been after a half-track ride. Well, it finally happened Saturday night. After the supper and USO show and fireworks were over and my head was pounding, we first got a jolly go-round in the back of a red Ford owned by the Courter's and driven by Jessica (who also had a headache, poor thing); we picked up a load of young soldier boys part way through town and I got to hear about the Henry Ford Festival at Greenfield Village from the blue-eyed young'un standing on the running board. I confess that I remember very little of what Robert actually said...but found it amusing at the time. It actually made me laugh because I knew who he was because I'm FB friends with his mother and I told him that and he kind of rolled his eyes. It didn't dampen his enthusiasm any however and he kept chattering at me and his pals until the drop off.

Anyway, we had a chance, after hopping off the Ford to catch the last ride on the half-track! I wasn't exactly sure how I was going to get up there, particularly in my formal and heels, but with a hand given to each of the young men in the back, and a dose of "forget about looking graceful" and a foot stuck way in the air, I was pulled/hopped up to be followed quickly by Katherine, the K ladies, and a several of the K fellas. I nearly fell as soon as I was in because my leather soles slid on the rather inclined metal interior, but I didn't fall. Miss K and N were both in the truck rather exhausted and therefore missed further rides. Anyway, we took off down the street and zipped about. On our way back up, the damper was put on the evening when Mr. Courter hailed the half-track asking if any of the K's were on board. As most of the passengers were K's he quickly passed the information that Josiah had jumped off a moving vehicle and was in an unknown condition. Isaac stayed on with Katherine and I while the rest of the family were assisted down and ran to where Josiah was.
​
I will skip ahead here and let y'all know that Josiah was alright. It was a great relief to see him on Sunday morning, looking exhausted and worn to be sure, but very much on his feet. I was really kind of worried about him. I later got a grin out of him that almost made me cry because I was glad to see the twinkle behind those ornery eyes. 

So, I DID get my half-track ride and it was fun despite the way it ended up. Perhaps I can hop another next year....

We returned to our camp shortly thereafter I took my headache to a readjusted bedroll and slept like a log. I was still tired next morning, but I wasn't in pain any more, so I was happy about that.

However, I wasn't overly thrilled over when I realized that I had left my red-striped sailor outfit at home  by accident--so I had to go to church looking (or at least feeling) slightly frumpy in my gored denim skirt (thing is starting to wear out) and a t-shirt borrowed from my sister. That shirt looks real nice on her, but green isn't exactly my best color. :D

Anyway, I don't believe the saying that "clothes make the man", so I could go to worship just as reverently in my "frump" as my "frills" (not that my sailor suit is exactly frilly). The church service that took place after some music and a talk by Mr. Potter, being held in the local Southern Baptist Church wasn't exactly what I'm used to as far as depth of content and such...I understand also that it was somewhat unusual circumstances and they were trying to keep with the history theme, so they kind of leaned towards songs most of us think of as more "patriotic" than "churchy".

After church, we were fed again (a billion thanks to these folks for feeding us multiple times!) and some people headed out to the Axis vs. Allies baseball game. We were not among them. I actually intended to leave around 1-2...but we didn't pull out until 3 local time...because, some of us were playing music (I'm glad I slid my spoons into my purse!) and then the Katherine  and K ended up helping Mrs. Courter clean up. I did just a very, very small amount right before we left, but I really spent most of my time here:

The musicians, as follows in no particular order. Katherine tried, but didn't quite get individual shots of everyone so I'll post the singles first and then move to the group shots; ladies first for some reason... ;)

I'm going to insert here real quick that Luke very graciously let me try out his accordion. It was harder to work the bellows (if that is what it's called) than I expected...and I couldn't see the buttons very well, so he had keep putting me right. :D It was fun and I appreciate the mini-lesson. I have greater respect for accordion players now...Thanks Luke!

Okay...y'all might be bored by any more...I tried to pick the best ones!

Here's a few shot of "The Ocean Mutts". Don't ask. I'm not allowed to tell... ;) 

And just because I must...here are a few more shots:

I think I have nearly run out of things to say...even though there is probably plenty more, it's too "partial" to be of much interest, so we'll close out here. :) We arrived home safely (obviously) and I've been working on this on and off all day in my tired, slow-poke state. I did however, find a photo with Katherine in it on FB--so I'm going to put that here, but I'm going to try to trim everyone out but her, so you can see how nice she looked without anyone or anything competing for your attention!

Love that smile, classy girl! 

Another of the Greatest Generation has passed into eternity. Sunday morning, at 1:08, my 93 year old grandpa crossed the threshold of death after three weeks in the hospital.

Born December 10, 1922, Grandpa had lived a full life. He grew up on a farm, played basketball in high school (which he enjoyed), served his country during WWII (though never did he see combat), later farmed, fished commercially, and kept bees--in addition to a thousand other things like building his own house from the foundation to the roof (including doing the wiring himself) and mechanicing until he no longer could. He raised four children and his several grandchildren were all honoured and privileged to know him.

Below I have posted some of my favorite photos of him--some from far, far before I was born!

Yesterday, the 27th of July, two-thousand and six, we laid Grandpa to rest.

If you find photos the deceased and funerals morbid, I beg you forgive me. I just think the funeral home did such a beautiful job with him...he looked so peaceful and happy that I could not help smiling back.

For the second time now I was a pall bearer. Once again, for a grandfather.

The other pall bearers were Daddy, Savannah, Katherine, my cousin Danny, second cousin Denny, and Fred and Davy (our farmers). 

I have no true assurance, but I do have hope, that one day I will see my Grandpa again in heaven. The peace I have had throughout this whole time can only have come from God.

I said "Good-night, Grandpa" last Saturday evening before kissing him gently on the forehead. When I got up Sunday morning, I found a note beside the coffee pot written by my mother. I didn't have to read it to know that he was gone. Just it being there told me the story. So now I say, "Good-bye, Grandpa." I'm just glad I had those few minutes with him a few days before he passed when he was awake and clearly aware that his family was around him.

I salute you. 

I did this interview with Grandpa Thanksgiving 2013.