You can get it here: https://itunes.apple.com/us/album/exaltation-cinematic-christmas/id763593891
Or here: https://play.google.com/store/music/album/Various_Artists_Exaltation_A_Cinematic_Christmas_C?id=Bj7g4qjvdnjydos6klhlabrpx6m&hl=en
A couple of my composer acquaintences, plus some other (most of whom I have name recognition with), have put together this outstanding Christmas album!! You can get it here: https://itunes.apple.com/us/album/exaltation-cinematic-christmas/id763593891 Or here: https://play.google.com/store/music/album/Various_Artists_Exaltation_A_Cinematic_Christmas_C?id=Bj7g4qjvdnjydos6klhlabrpx6m&hl=en Racheal
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Just in case you were unaware of it, my brain does frequently brush with topics that are more substantial than the normal seemingly frivilous subjects that I love to enthrall my readers with. (Um...that is, if I enthrall my readers?) The one that's been pinging around in the back of my mind for several days in the obscure shadows under my hair was, unsurprisingly (I suppose), prompted by a brief-ish exchange, in a longer conversation I had last Friday. For anonymity's sake, I'll refrain from mentioning by name the brother I was chatting with... :) Anyways, last year, said young gentleman and I were both involved in multiple on-line conversations concerning politics and the Christian's civic duty. The point of this post is not to delve into the various, assorted views that got expounded on and argued over during those conversations, but to address something I said rather flippently last Friday. The difference in political views cropped up (I believe I brought it up; probably as an example of how Christians can fellowship even when not extactly in-step with one another--at least I hope that's why I brought it up, because I sure wasn't trying to throw anything into his face). I then said rather laughingly, "We just won't talk about that!!" And I got to thinking...is that really the right way to go about it? Sure, we've had these discussions before and we basically know where the other stands on the issue, but to just cut off the topic (jokingly or not)--is that right? I'm not really sure. I have certain personal reasons for not really wanting to wade knee-deep into particular topics, some of which being: 1) I hate tension and strife (particularly between family and friends), 2) I have a fierce loyality that causes my temper to flare if I perceive myself as being challenged or threatened, and 3) I hate being bested in a debate and looking like an idiot (even if only to myself). So...it's really that second one that screams against me getting into such discussions. I must say the calmness and respect with which certain members of the "politics talks" of last fall treated me and my different thoughts really convicted me on my own snappish response to any challenge. However, I digress... Should one steer clear of these kinds of conversations (knowing one has certain pitfalls) or should one not run from the conversations, but go in with an extra-guarded tongue (and frevent prayers for strength in controlling that firecracker temper that will bubble up, like it or not)? I guess the question really is: does one knowingly place themselves in a conversation which may cause a sinful response? (I am not blaming anyone or anything for causing my sin--that comes out of my own heart, but certain things do prompt it more quickly than others.) One often learns a lot in conversations that challenge them (least in my case) and in the end one has a deeper, more throrough knowledge of the other side(s) of an issue. I do not want to lose my temper or lose my friends because I've behaved abominally--but neither do I want to ignore issues of great importance to me, simply because I might lose the ol' temper. (One nice thing about internet debates is that you can put the subject aside and come back to it in a way that you cannot with a one-on-one in-person conversation. However for all that, I would still rather discuss things face-to-face.) So, when I laughed, "We just won't talk about that!" I think there are a couple of possibilites: 1) I was being a coward, 2) I was being spiritually and intellectually lazy, or 3) I was just shooting off with the mouth...because I really wouldn't mind having that conversation (or parts of it) with certain persons (in person) again. Or maybe it was a combination of the above. Anyway, what are your thoughts on "getting into conversations that may cause you to get upset/lose your temper"? Really...I'm curious. I have my own ideas on this, but I'm not sure I can articulate them, so I'll clam up for the moment. :) RachealWhat a wonderful, great, grand, weekend!! That's the short version. Now, you know, I'm not given to giving the short version unless I absolutely have to... I came down with a cold Tuesday evening and spent the next two days laid out on the couch reading and being pumped with cat-mint tincture, echinesea, garlic, vitamin's, and such like. By Friday morning, I felt pretty good, though I refrained from shaking hands with folks that afternoon. We got out late, but still managed to squeak in before things actually got underway. As we settled into our seats, I noticed Dan R. talking to a friend. A few minutes later, Andy R. came in whistling and snapping his fingers, practially dancing. Savannah and I cracked up for some odd reason... Once Andy got seated, he craned around and seeing us, grinned and waved...then apparently jabbed his brother, because Dan looked over and smiled and waved too. I went out for some reason, I forget why, and walked right under Caleb R.'s nose! He didn't see me and being myself, I laughed about it internally. You do know that odd things amuse me, don't you? Dr. Serven had the first presentation "Doctrine Divides". I didn't take very good notes on any of the sessions (and none on the last two because I wasn't in the room! But I'll get to that...) Dr. Sproul, Jr. (commonly known as "Red-Beard" in our family because when we first met him back in the early 2000's he had a red-beard) spoke about "Litergy in Worship and the Celtic Church". Dr. Serven had the third lecture on "Missions and the Celtic Church". I had learned previously about the Celtic church (though not very extensively) and knew they were a stronghold of faith before the Roman Catholic's showed up, but I didn't realize that they sent out as many missionaries as they did! Between the first and second session, our row kind of got decended on by friends we had not yet met in person. Dan and Andy, Andrew H., Peter B. (we'd met Peter before) and Caleb, who laughed when I told him I'd walked under his nose earlier. I sat there and talked to Caleb and John (one of their friends) about ranching vs. farming and suburbia until it was time to break up the party out of respect for the next speaker. I joined the alto section for the "Psalm Instruction" time in the afternoon and squeaked through passably. I tried not to drop too low (what I tend to do) or go flat and did okay. After supper, we piled back into the sanctuary for the Friday night concert--Charlie Zham, in person! (Andy had scheduled a jam session for the previous hour, but we couldn't make it due to conflicting eating schedules--and yours truely being in dire distress, needing food. I kind of had food/stomach issues all weekend.) Anyway, Charlie Zham is an outstanding performer! He works his audience very, very well besides having a grand voice. Turns out it was his birthday, so he got a serenade from the audience...and I had the audacity later to remark to him something along the lines of: "It's great to meet another October baby!" I keep adding to that list...in the last month, I've discovered half-a-dozen people born in October. :) I didn't sleep as well as I would have liked Friday night (though I probably slept a little more than I thought), but was wired enough Saturday that I didn't feel tired until late that night. (Though looking at the pictures, I do look kind of 'blah'.) The first session was Red-Beard on the "Theology of Patrick". To make an 45 minute session short: Patrick was not a Roman Catholic; he was more Reformed than anything. That was the last session I heard. The next two (one by Pastor McDonald on Patrick and one by Dr. Sproul on I don't know what) I missed because first I had joined Savannah, Andy, and Peter in a conversation on...well...where did it start? I know it ended up with music and me writing down a couple of hymn book names. I got started talking to Caleb during that break between sessions and it was an encouraging conversation. I did more listening than talking, but really that's okay with me. We discussed duty, fear, encouragment, God's sovereignty...and probably a few other things--like "Pendragon". I really did enjoy that conversation and the others I had over the weekend with these previously just "internet" friends. We "Google+"er's gathered for a group picture around 1:30 and then had a jam session. Andy most definitely leaves me in the dust when it comes to guitar playing (it didn't help that I am really out of practice), but I tried to hang in there and bluff my way through. I ended up turning my guitar into a precussion instrument several times. It thrilled me when the guys pitched into "General Taylor". I love that one and actually know the words well enough that I was able to sing along (to some extent). We only broke up the jam session because it was time for the Highland Games.... The games were, of course, a lot of fun to watch and I rooted for "my boys" (that'd be the B. boys) as well as Andy, Dan, Caleb, Peter, and Andrew. Caleb won the cabor toss and almost won the rock toss. Little Christopher came in second on the young'un's rock toss--it's not surprising either. That little guy is strong. During the Boffer Wars I kept finding myself pitching onto my toes and tensing up as my brain had the following jumping around in it: "I'd do that...", "Andy!! Watch your back!" (I almost yelled that a couple of times, but each time I started to, it was too late!), "Don't swing so wide, Dan!" or something along those lines. Andrew quit a little before the whole thing was over and I stood there and discussed sword-play with him for a bit. One guy got whacked so hard on the head that he said he heard his ears pop. I know it hurt, because it took him down to the ground and he crawled off and laid there for a minute or two. I didn't look at him too closely, because I got the impression he was trying not to let tears of pain slip out...and didn't want to embarress him any more than necessary. Daniel B. was telling me that that particular antagonist gave head-shots a lot (it's against the rules) and that "he hit's really hard!" (Now, Daniel and I have a history of sword-fighting between us and we both give as we take, hard...but we don't go for the head.) Dinner was next...I ate and didn't feel well again. I had managed to kind of control the stomach ache most of the day with quick snacks throughout the day, but I had just gotten really hungry right before supper and so started the whole thing up again. When the boys pulled out their instruments, we girls moved up and listened. I ended up with Andy's tamborine again... By the time the ball rolled around, I was feeling alright (I think I'd have danced even if I hadn't felt well--I do so love to dance). I danced the first one with Andy and lost a shoe because Caleb kept stepping on my heels! It really was funny. When he realized that I'd lost it, he picked it up and handed it to me, so I tucked it under one arm and then the other as Andy and I reeled...then I tossed it behind me because I couldn't hang onto the shoe during the next portion of the dance--and guess what? The dance ended! I had plenty of opportunity to help new dancers get the feel of things--from Andy to Andrew. They all caught on pretty fast and got along well. I danced The Waves of Torry (that's not what the caller said it was, but that's basically what it was) with Caleb...and we got all mixed up the first time through--but by the time that was done, we were going along nice and smooth. I tend to get all mixed up in that one anyway, so I'm glad he got the concept fast...or I'd have gotten lost! :D I did one of the ECD-style dances with Dan and I don't remember anything crazy happening during that one, though I did get amused when we reached the end and he pushed off the bleachers with one foot and then the kid next in line did the same thing. The last dance was the Gay Gordon (or Carolina Promenade), one of my favorites, and I started it with Andy...after doing a brief clarifying instruction session with the him and the next couple back. The caller was having fun, which means a lot, but some of his instruction wasn't the clearest, though actually I think it was more clear than the previous caller's...but maybe that's simply because I have danced more and he also used the more familiar terminology rather than the ECD terms. I can't remember the name of the dance--but I guess I'll just call it the "Follow the Leader" dance (since that is basically what it is); but I did that one with Andrew. For never having danced before, he really got the idea and did a great job! It didn't take him near as long to figure out how to strip-the-willow as it did me...I have just recently quit messing that up regularly. That dance sticks in my mind especially beacuse of the precious little lady to my left. She was just as adorable as could be and she kept getting mixed up, but would smile up at me as sweet as anything when I helped her out. At one point, I left my place and scooped her up (she was way at the end) and brought her back to place. She was just so sweet... :) There was one waltz--which I talked Christopher into doing with me. He didn't want to, but when I said "Please!" he gave in--"Oh...alright." Immediately after that, a swing tune came on and Thomas attempted to teach me how to do it. Thomas is an outstanding little dance instructor and I practically had it by the time the song ended. I love to dance and I was greatly disappointed when the ball was over. It seemed so short. (Two hours really isn't that long...particuarly when the dances at reenactments tend to go from 8 to 11.) I slept that night. When I got up (before anyone else) Sunday morning, I washed my hair and then started packing things up. By the time I was done with my hair, everyone was up. Mom packed the car and then we went to church. After the service, we headed down-stairs to get our food. Savannah, Andy, Dan, and I were engaged in a conversation about exculsive psalmody. Somewhere along the time we were getting our food (Dan had a tray on which he put a plate and two bowls...the food was literally spilling from his plate--and he ate most of it! I think he would have actually eaten it all only he was so busy talking that by the time the church folk where trying to take down the tables he wasn't quite finished) the conversation shifted. By the time I was seated, Andy was regaling Savannah with the histroy of Richard Cameron. I couldn't hear very well, so I mainly listend to Dan talking to Zane and Jason about home economics with an emphasis on industry. I'm afeared I'm a little lost on that whole front...I was also interested in Caleb and Andrew's conversation clear at the other end of the table. Somehow I knew they were talking filmmaking, but there wasn't room at that end of the table. (Poor KT ended up at a different table completely because there was no more room!) Anyway, we talked and talked and talked and I think everyone had a blast...I haven't had that much encouraging fun in quite a long time. Now...I'm sure you are tired of me running my mouth...and would like to see the pictures. :) I'd love to go again next year...but around here, we don't make plans that far out. :) Suffice to say, I am so very pleased that we were able to go this year and that I got to meet some friends in person. God Bless you all!! RachealIt really did start out strange with Mama and I running to the hardware store first thing in the morning to get a new pressure switch for the pump. When we got home, I flopped down on my stomach in the garage (the well and pump are smack dab in the middle of the garage). It's rather an odd sensation to be working over an open hole like that...I did manage not to drop any tools into the well and got the old pressure switch removed and put the new one on (after having a guyser because I forgot to drain the water before I got started). Unfortunately, it didn't fix the problem...the pump still wouldn't turn off. The problem is being explored further today... After church we went to the B's house for lunch...and a snack...and supper...and glorious fun with the boys! Like I said to William when he noted that whenever his family or ours goes/comes to the other's house, we always stay so late: "You know why? It's because we're like family." It's true, too. We played "football" and frisbee...some game called Sabatour (it's my impression Joshua really likes being a sabatour), and watched Captain America. I'll be doing a review of that later on Reformed Reviews. And of course, we talked...and talked...and laughed a lot. Katherine was the main photographer...so I'm afraid there isn't any pictures of her, even though she looked quite nice yesterday. (I ended up looking rather, well, blown and frumpy! :D) I sure have missed these guys. Maybe the B's will come see me and Savannah if they get down to Florida anytime soon. I look forward to seeing them at the Reformation Day Faire this weekend and showing them off to some of my other friends...(maybe Daniel will win the field during the boffer wars...he's a pretty good hand with a 'sword'.) RachealI haven't done a nonesense post in awhile...so I thought I'd just share some favorite moments from post-service fellowship last Sunday. For starters, it's rather nice to be surrounded by very special kids that know you and love you. I love being surrounded by precious little (and occasionally not so little) children. It's nice to know that I can still pick some of them up (Olivia for one...she's a hefty 7), that the B twins don't mind that I play in their hair (even though they are all of 12), and that Sarah and Isabelle are as sweet as ever. Anyway, there are really two stories in particular that I wanted to share. Mrs. B is doing dance instruction classes after church for the upcoming "Scottish Ball" (I'm still not sure why it's called that--it's not Scottish dancing, but rather American Civil War/Folk with a few ECD dances). Well, anyway during the waltz instruction time, I caught Christopher. He's a little short stocky stinker whom I absolutely love. By now I had finally grasped the basic box step for the waltz. I asked him if he knew how to waltz and no, he didn't...so I taught him! (Or tried to teach him.) I'm sure we looked rather amusing--little blonde boy with big girl bent double waltzing quite choppily around and around, laughing, yet very concentrated on our feet. Since Christopher's arms are too short to reach my waist, he had a grip on my sleeve which I had rolled up to my elbow. Like I said, I just love Christopher! Later, I scooped up Benjamin (Christopher's little brother--looks just like him) and exhibited the behavoir that makes me alright with a large majority of little squirts. I took him into the halls, balanced on my hip, and started half running, half-skipping down and back up again until I was so out of breath that I had to quit. I was "playing horse"--sound effects (from my large square heels) and all. Benjamin really got into it there for a bit, swinging his free arm and swatting me (not very hard, if he had, I'd have made him quit) across the front of my shoulders. After that we played "you can't catch me", combined "Mommy!! Daddy!!" (that's part of the game, you know--'yell' for mum or dad--not because the young'un really wants me to leave him alone, but to add an extra layer of complication into the "chase"). I also learned a new dance called the "Postie's Jig"... RachealWARNING!! This is going to be a long post... This whole tale starts on Wednesday, the day we left home for Georgia (and from there Indiana), with the back of my mother's beautiful red 1989 Chevorlet Suburban packed with our reenacting gear and other things we would need on a 6 week 'vacation'. I kept a fairly extensive log of our journey...something I have never done in this fashion before. I may actaully end up quoting myself here.... It was almost 9 Wednesday morning when we pulled out of the driveway (me driving--I drove until we got on the interstate and that was it). We had to stop by Wal-Mart for more water bottles (am I ever glad we did!), the bank, and Savannah's doctor (I forget the reason for that). Anyway, by the time we pulled out of the drive, I had already noticed a lack of power steering (I have driven this truck before and I knew that it handled better than that!) As we left the driveway we heard a loud clattering noise. I didn't chalk it up to anything else than a stick...until later. When we got to Wal-Mart, we popped the hood to try to find the power-steering fluid receptical, figuring we might need some. (Even then, I was a bit skeptical because in my truck--which for a while seemed to just eat the stuff, it didn't get stiff like that, it started to buzz a little.) We could not find it! Even with Daddy on the phone, we still couldn't locate it. Turns out, I couldn't see it for no other reason than that I am too short! Daddy said he'd come--so while he was on the way I trotted in and picked up the things we needed from Wal-Mart. Naturally, Daddy being much more of a mechanic that I'll probably ever be, he immediately spotted the problem--the power steering belt was gone! That accounted for the noise we'd heard...as it turns out, one of the kittens (poor little Grady!) had climbed into the engine (I had seen her get in there earlier and I literally almost popped the hood and checked before I cranked the engine), and got caught in the belt--it broke, but didn't take leave of the engine until we reached the end of the driveway (a quarter of a mile). At this point, Savannah and I decided to walk over to the bank (not far at all) while Daddy went after a new belt. At the bank, we both set up checking accounts--this'll come in handy since we both have our own businesses (more or less). Daddy got back shortly before we were done and came into the bank to deposit a check before he got greasy in the engine. I ended up helping Daddy a little with the belt replacement though my main job consisted of holding his little radio at just the correct angle so Glenn Beck would come in! I took advantage of the opportunity to learn a little more about engines--without having to rely strictly on verbal descriptions! :D Savannah went on to the doctor's while the others of us had our noses poked under the hood. Due to these activities we really actually got on the road at 11...by 2 we were driving through the Payne's Prairie area. The signifcance of that is that Payne's Prairie is where the Cow Cavalry would often stop to fatten up the cattle before they drove them the rest of the way to either Baldwin or on into Georgia. It was almost 4 o'clock when we crossed the border into Georgia. A little over thirty minutes later, we were sitting at the side of the road... Someplace north of Valdosta we'd heard a clattering noise. At the time I thought it sounded like the noise we had heard earlier that morning. Savannah said it was just gravel on the road. I almost told Savannah to pull over and let me check under the hood, but I didn't. We had just passed Lennox when Savannah gave an exclaimation and started to head to side of the road. The temperature gauge was reading extremely hot. At the same time she got us off the road, we saw the steam and heard the boiling. Savannah popped the hood and we weren't completely stopped before I was opening the door. I threw the hood up and as soon as the steam from the radiator had cleared up a little I could see exactly what was the problem. (It is amazing how God works...the morning's "disaster" was providential! Because poor little Grady got herself killed by breaking the power steering belt, I got a mini crash course on mechanics which allowed me to be able to clearly see and articulate what had happened.) The fan belt had completely shreaded and the new power steering belt was gone! With further probing by actual mechanics, the diagosis was as follows: the A/C compressor had frozen up which caused the power steering belt to break--which in turn got into the fan belt and completely obliterated it. While we were waiting for the tow-truck, a man stopped briefly to see if we had help on the way...I told him we did and what was wrong and he went on. I wonder if he called the police about us or not, because fairly shortly after he stopped, a county sheriff stopped and would have stayed with us until the tow-truck arrived, but he had to go to the scene of a car-crash. The truck arrived not long after and hauled us into Lennox where our truck got dropped off at the auto-place which was closed (since it was 6 o'clock) and then across the overpass to this little ratty Knight's Inn...we slept with our guns and the chairs jammed under the door-knob... We were able to get back on the road by 10 the next morning. We were ever so grateful that the head-gaskets did not need to be replaced (which apparently can happen if you run overheated too long). Because of time constraints, the A/C compressor got bypassed and so we ran with no air. That wasn't anything new since we'd been driving the Caddie with no air for over a month. We ate at a Chick-fil-A for the first time ever for lunch. It was pretty good, but I had to eat really slow because already my jaw was refusing to open all the way and it kept popping. (I mentioned to Dr. K [chiropractor] that my jaw was popping and so she messed with it and it got worse.) Later in the week, I was literally have trouble opening it wide enough to get anything in it. At our last stop for fuel and a bathroom break before getting to the reenactment, the toilet in the ladies room was backed up. Now, I'm a very practicel kind of person, so I just reached down, picked up the plunger that was laying on the floor and fixed the problem. I couldn't believe that someone else hadn't already done that! It was almost 5 when we got to the reenactment, after some strange, on the fly, by the seat of the pants re-routing from the way we thought we should have been able to get in. We located the K's and collected "our" tent, then got registered and finally found our spot. One man directed us to the civilian "town" (where we were not registered, but Miss Genie and Mr. Tony were--fellow 1st Fl Res. and Civ. members). From there we got redirected down to the main Confederate camp. I still don't think we were camped exactly where we were supposed to be, but it was okay...just a little strange due to our personas to be camped out amongst the soldiery. Shortly before we turned in for the night (early for me), I noticed a young man walk by. I leaned over to Savannah: "Was that Walter?" It was--and I think I also saw Tom. (These guys are Amanda's brothers.) If I knew him better, I would have called out, "Is that you, Walter?" but since I've only ever had one actual (short) conversation with him, I didn't. Over the weekend I got sunburned (my nose is currently peeling; at least it is not terribly sore still) because first I had my hair up wrong to wear a hat and then it was raining and then I had my hair up wrong again. (I did wear my bonnet while watching the battle Sunday.) However, there are more interesting things to talk about... When we woke up Friday morning (around 6), the battle that had been going on up the hill when we bedded down recommenced. Around thirty minutes later, after some initial in-camp wake up calls from NCO's (most likely) and some stirring, I heard, "Company D, Georgia! First call!" followed by a volley of cannon fire. (The artillery reports in the hills echo and re-echo, rumbling rather like thunder. When a large number of them went off at the same time, it sounded like a fighter jet going over.) One could also hear the men engaged in battle yelling. 7 o'clock sharp a bugle call sounded through the camp. There had been one previously that I didn't know, but this one made me grin--it was Reveille. Later in the day, as I was finishing lunch, one of the young men who was camped across the 'street' walked over and asked if we had been the one's playing music last night (he'd seen us take our instruments out of the truck the evening before while unloading, but apparently hadn't seen that they went back in the truck). I said no, then asked if he were the one I'd just heard blowing on the bugle. He kind of laughed--it was him and he was just practicing. He then proceeded to tell Amanda (who was with me) and I about the different calls. I found it quite interesting. Friday afternoon the 4 o'clock battle was fought way back on the south part of the property. Amanda and I strolled out there and sat on the bleachers with the press people (on the Yankee side!! I'm not sure there were bleachers on the other side) and watched most of the battle. Because of the size of this event, one really couldn't see the best what was going on. Amanda could really care less about the battle--she just wanted to see her brothers--but with the Confederates clear across the field, there was no way we could have seen them. That night, after we went to bed, a fife and drum team started playing about two or three rows off. It made me want to get up and march. I did sing some of the songs to myself and wiggled my feet in time to the stirring music--not to mention the big grin on my sleepy face. Sometime during the night I woke up and could tell it was raining because of the drops hitting the tent. (Someone told Savannah next day that it had started around 1 a.m.) I really was surprised at how dry it stayed inside--those canvas tents do not leak! Much of Saturday was spent either in the Family Parlor (the K's sutlery) or the barn at the top of the hill. Up there we listened to some so-called lectures on various fashions--ball gowns, "Ditto" suits (that's one for you, gents! It was the direct precursor to the modern three-piece suit...often the pants and vest were a plaid! I wish I had a picture of the one the gentleman model was wearing--it amused me), and other articles of clothing and jewelry. Also one on "home healthcare" which I found rather interesting. Before that there was one on materinity--which we didn't stick around for. That one had some serious feministic, modern slant coming through that irritated me big time. I skipped the Yankee general's talk to eat lunch. In the hour before the battle (which started at 4 p.m.), we listened to Generals Polk, Breckenridge, and Longstreet impersonators giving the history of the battle. They were aided by artillery Major Smith in their presentation. I can't give much of a play-by-play of the battle...we were sitting atop the hill watching it unfold in front of us, but on paper (or digits as the case may be) it would sound rather boring...particularly since I haven't any pictures to help. The three girls (Savannah, Amanda, and I) determined that we would meet at the sutlery at 7:30 in order to head up the hill to the 8 o'clock dance. I was sent up to the reenactor parking to gather some more water bottles from the truck (we had already worked through the first flat). That was at least a five mile trek, no matter what Savannah says, and I did it at my top walking speed--first through slippery mud, then up hill. I barely made it. It's a good thing I had already decided not to change into my ball gown (didn't want to get good red Georgia mud on the hem--the dress I was wearing matched the mud pretty well actually) or I wouldn't have gotten there on time at all. Anyway, I was glad to sit down and rest for a few minutes before the dance actually started. I danced all the dances (not counting the three mixers--they don't exactly count and the one polka I sat out because I knew I wouldn't last it out) with the same gent--a 16 year-old Georgia boy named Zack. He was a nice kid and we chattered at each other like old friends for most of the evening. Somebody please tell me why I attract the younger set of fellas? I really don't mind, but it is something I'm curious about. Zack reminded me of my cousin Joel in a lot of ways--which might be one of the reasons I was so comfortable with him so quickly. I had a lot of fun even though my feet were sore and swollen in my boots. I love to dance and will do it until I simply cannot go any further. The band was Un-Reconstructed (if you look closely at the video posted September 22 at the upper left hand corner, you can see me! I'm the girl in the orange dress with the white collar.) They were certainly more fun than the brass band at Suawnee, but not as much fun as 7 Lb.s of Bacon...of course, I do have some personal bias there. Savannah and Amanda both had a wider variety of partners. I don't know who all they were, but I was introduced to a young man with dimples named Ben who really seemed to like Savannah. I kept noticing another gentleman with a short gray beard...he was in my set at least once...and thinking he looked awfully familiar. At the end of the dance he just so happened to be standing near where Zack and I were talking (poor kid was completely beat by that point--his hair was soaking wet). It was then that I remembered who he was...I stepped over and asked him, "Where you at Brooksville?" "Yes..." "I think you danced with my little sister at Brooksville." He thought for a minute then smiled with recognition in his eyes and we had a short, friendly exchange, and before he left he asked me to tell Katherine 'hello' for him. She of course remembered Mr. Richard and was pleased that he remembered her. Miss Minnie had asked us to walk Amanda back to their trailer so we did--or rather I did. We left Savannah (who by now was really tired) sitting under the pavilion and I walked Amanda to the top of the hill where I left her and turned and strode back down the hill, wincing because my feet hurt so bad. We wanted to catch one of the 'trolleys' but couldn't. I was about half way up the hill with Amanda when I thought, "I should have told Savannah to catch a trolley if she could..." She told me that she almost did, but didn't want to be gone when I got back--though I probably would have guessed what had happened. We walked across the cornfield and down the muddy roads in the dark. It was rather neat walking through the mist/battle smoke and would have been rather eerie if one was alone. I must admit, I was grousing about my feet the whole way... I think we both sleep soundly that night. When I woke up the next morning, my hamstrings hurt and so did my knees (I was also cold so that made it worse). I was surprised that my feet weren't more sore than they were. I guess I am just a serious flat-lander...I love the mountains, but it definitely would take me some time to get physically used to living in them! Sunday was spent mostly lounging around in the sutlery or listening to Un-Reconstructed play as they did for a good long time during the day. At 2 p.m. I was just finishing up a meager lunch of yet more banana bread and cheese when I heard the cannon start up again. The battle was on! I gathered up Savannah's camera, an apple and my knife and started off...I did get some pictures of the battle and I will attempt to use them to describe it--that is fairly hard because there was such a wide expanse of land with action everywhere...and the battle was two hours long. Below is a slideshow with the "narration": During the battle, there were modern machines (out of sight) busily packing and repacking the muddy roads. Thanks to them, the reenactors were able to get out that evening. At the end of the battle (around 4), Savannah and I went back to our tent and she took the keys and went to get our truck. I started packing and piling stuff in front of the tent. I struck it after she got back with the truck quite a while later. There was a stough going to and from the camps. Anyway, we got out about six. I had left my 'reenacting' boots on (and therefore my knee socks) and Savannah still had on her wash dress (minus the hoops). We drove to Fort Oglethrope where we had supper at a Mexican resturant and then spent the night. We did get a few odd looks... :) Here are the rest of the 'non-battle' pictures. We didn't get too many... We got home (one of the two, you know) Monday evening safely and soundly and unpacked yesterday. I also ended up mowing some yesterday as well...and now that I finally got this finished (I started yesterday) I have other things I need to do! See you around! RachealI was already awake at 6:15 when Savannah pushed open my door. I hadn't realized that I'd gone back to sleep after waking up at 4:30... I rolled out of bed, made my coffee and read my Bible (I think last time we worked cows I didn't get my Scripture read). Then I crawled into my clothes and meandered out to feed the animals and saddle Snip. I thought for a minute I was going to have to go get him, but I guess he heard me singing (I figured he'd hear me better if I was belting out Irish and Folk songs than if I tried to keep whistling at him) and realized that I had "FOOD!!", so he came running up. I rode him into the yard, tied him to the tree, and went into to fix my own breakfast. Once I finished that, I trotted out to un-wire a couple gates in the pens. I forgot to do that Saturday. I also used that as an excuse to check how wet the ground was and try to choose the best route for Tommy's truck--the only 4x4 out of the three we usually use. Tommy and Ricky arrived about the time I was quarter of the way back. I trotted into the yard and said my how-de-do's and minutes later was on the way back to the pasture. It took a few minutes to get the girls moving toward the pens, but once they did, they did okay--though all told today, they were a little more boogerish than any other time I've worked them with the W brothers. I tied Snip in the loading chute--since that wasn't going to be used for a while and it was in the shade (Ricky's suggestion--it worked great!) Ricky put me on the hopper gate this time. Savannah was on the beef gate (I'm afraid she had to work almost too hard today!) Tommy was our worming man again (as usual), and Ricky had the job of all the footwork of moving cows. I did a little of that too, but not over much--though it seems like I climbed that fence an awful lot! I got a badly jammed thumb trying to help back Moon-Bat up the chute to put her in one of the holding pens. (She got by the beef gate.) I'm not exactly sure what happened but I do know that that red stick whamed me a good one and that my thumb joint still hurts. I know I didn't break it because if I had, I would have cried instead of just thinking about it, and besides, I could (and still can) bend it without any extra pain. Also, it didn't really swell up. Anyway, we worked the cows through, leaving all the calves (including the heifers I weaned earlier this year--they need branding and ear-marking) and the two cows we were going to sell. Then we worked through the calves. I cut out all but 5 or 6, I can't remember exactly. After that, we parted out the heifers--I decided to sell the lighter red one because she is kind of spooky. That leaves me with four: "Big Red", "August", "Whitey", and "Blondie"...nothing overly crazy on the names there. Most of the cows don't have names, but it seems like with me, if I'm around critters (other than chickens), they end up with names because I constantly talk to them. Parting done, we headed back to the house. Tommy and Ricky went to see if Mr. Al's folks were done with the trailer (we always borrow his trailer) and I went in and watched most of Ironside before they returned. I didn't get lunch in between either. We loaded the animals and went to market. Seems like everybody and his kin was there today. I don't think I've ever seen that many trailers there! (Maybe because we usually go Wednesday?) We've never been so low on the selling list either! Lot number 77! Whee! I think the lowest I ever remember was 50-something. We got back, dropped off Mr. Al's trailer and truck (nice truck, by the way), and Tommy and Ricky brought me home. As soon as I waved them off, I sat down here and ate my lunch. (Okay, so 'ate' is a little mild. I scarfed down my lunch like a ravenous hound! I'm glad nobody could see me as I chowed down and read the lastest Proverbs Perspective.) Once I was done eating (speaking of which, I think I could stand to dig something else up to eat), I went back out and hopped on Snip and went and opened all the gates. Since it is so wet, and I'm not going to be here, I decided that I would go ahead and take the cows out of their summer rotation schedule. That also means Daddy won't have that one extra thing to do on his list... Then I unsaddled Snip (who by the way behaved himself pretty decently today--he didn't offer to buck with me--which I greatly appreciate!) By the time I had all the tack (except for the saddle) gathered up, he was happily rolling about, scratching his back in the grass. I came in, showered, washed the dishes, and made my coffee and then sat down here to write this. I'll have to shove off and pick up the check sometime in this upcoming hour, unless Daddy does it--which since he's out that way anyhow...well...I might just call him and see if he'll pick it up (if they've gotten through to #77 yet). Now, if y'all will excuse me, this cowgirl with a bum thumb is going to go raid the refridgerator... RachealWe've never celebrated Labor Day as a family, so making a big deal out if it kind of odd. I'm still not sure what it's all about anyway. Regardless, our new church had an ice cream social today and we went. We had volunteered to help dip the ice cream even though we didn't have any. Instead Savannah whipped up some chocolate/tahini mess that was outstanding. After the ice cream consumption, the kids and some of the grown ups played some games--like sack races (those were hilarious to watch). I think the men were the funniest. Some of the boys threw a ball around for a bit--no one volunteered to toss it to me even though I was standing there watching (I thought looking like perhaps I'd like to join in?) Pastor and Mr. E eventually got hold of the frisbee and I put myself into that game without an invite. That really was the highlight of the afternoon for me. A varity of players came and went, but Pastor S and I were the two constants. The boys had all gotten hot and retreated to the shade or the A/C... Anyway, here's a few pictures (Savannah didn't take too many). I'll try to make them more interesting by the narration. :) Anyway...that's what I did this afternoon...now it's raining. I'd better go check on supper... RachealI haven't had this much fun in days! :D Two of the girls from church came over today to learn how to shoot. Haley, the younger of the two, really got the hang of it faster than did Amy. Anyway, by the time we went through approximately 230+ .22 shells, both were doing pretty good. They showed up around 10-ish and spent most of the day with us. We fed them lunch and gave Amy something to eat before they left. First we shot in the morning...after lunch we went to our place and gathered up a few more firearms and I buglarized the ammo for some .38's. We were going to go ahead and shoot over there but as the back yard was like a pond, we returned over here and spent the afternoon scaring the edges off the grass. After blazing through the remaining ammo in the .22 box, we walked down to the creek, eyed some cows, and then came in. I started cleaning the guns while Amy had her snack. I finished them up after the girls left. I really think both young ladies had a good time...and to prove it, take a look at some pictures. :) Racheal An old friend my mine from a long time back just completed his second short film!! It's a hilarious little Western. What makes it especially fun is I know (or knew) everyone but two of the actors! Enjoy! Racheal |
New post on The Bee Project! 04/26/18
The Middle KidI chose to title this blog "The Adventures of a Middle Kid" because that is exactly what I'll be detailing (mostly). I chose 'kid' over any other word, like 'girl' (I am the middle girl so it also would have worked) or 'child' Archives
April 2019
The anti-Christ will not overrun Christ’s church or kingdom. Categories
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