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! 

Forget the Battle Hymn of the Republic...first time I remember hearing this song, I watched my Dad try not to cry. He was one of these guys. His paratrooper days are some his proudest (just watch him when he talks about jumping). He almost got killed on his last jump...

HOOAH! Paratroopers are the awesomest dudes--ever. (I'm much to chicken to ever jump out of a perfectly sound airplane.) 

Sorry if the language offends anyone. 

I declare! I seem to be having a run of less than fantastically creative titles. Oh well. Dull brain for the last few days in particular. I don't know how much of it has to do with upping my bartonella killer from 5 to 6 drops (twice a day), but it may have something to do with it. Then again, it may not. I never am completely sure on these things.

Now, lest you think I'm nothing but a short bundle of woe, allow me to inform you that I played my guitar (and not just my easy stuff--classical pieces too that required all my fingers, four fret stretches, and barre chords) for roughly an hour this morning and I did not need my brace! Now, how's that for good news? I was very pleased, even though my wrist was quite stiff when I got done. Not having the brace on noticeably improves my range of motion, stiff or not. 

I made lunch today, even though half way through one of the three onions I merrily chopped up, I sliced into my own thumb. It hit me right across the nail, about half way down. I was unable to tell whether or not I sliced all the way through the nail or if there was just blood from the fleshy cut pooling up in a groove. I am rather inclined to think that it was the latter since it didn't hurt terribly. Thankfully, it was a nice clean cut with a sharp knife and I didn't keep bearing down on it. So, I've been gimping around with a band-aid for the rest of the day...which means that I didn't get the eggs washed after lunch as I had planned. And that the idea of weeding rhubarb was scrubbed. I really kind of need both hands capable of getting filthy for that job--particularly when working around the mini plants.

I went to town with Mama...we took a car-load of stuff to the Salvation Army. Since we were there, we went ahead and gave it a quick walk through. I was standing there, looking at the bookshelf and when I turned around I laid eyes on a cheerfully orange linen skirt. I am rather partial to orange (why? don't ask...I haven't an answer) and this was a really nice shade. I turned back around...then reversed myself and reached out and plucked it off the rack. "Mama...look at this!" A pause where I look at the size tag, "It says it's a 4." (No, I do not wear a 4...probably not since I was...12? if then...) Then I hold it up to myself (I can usually tell if a skirt will fit by the 'hold'em up' test), "I think I can wear it..." I tried it on...and I could! I beg leave to argue with the manufacturer on their sizing...ahem. Then, as it turned out, the tag was the 75% off color (which we didn't know until check out). So I got this nice, orange skirt for less than a dollar!! 

From there we went to Big Lots...then the grocery store. Nothing exciting there. Unless you want to count getting hungry and walking through food as an adventure. 

Coming home, the car was acting slightly...off. We pulled into the garage and the left front quadrant was smoking. I'm not quite sure what it is, but I think Daddy said something about the wheel bearing freezing up. 

I doodled around outside for a bit, getting my feet dirty and scratched up. I sort of 'helped' Mama with a clean out job on the north side of the house. 

All in all, I feel as though I have had a slow day with that dumb look on my face the whole time. :)

How was YOUR day?

The day for romance. 

Ha! 

"Singles Awareness Day".

Double HA!

Naw...we just plain out had us a fantastic ol' time...

The morning wasn't anything out of the ordinary really.

But then we took lunch out and feasted on shrimp and lettuce with Grandma and Grandpa. And chocolate. See?

After eating, I took care of the dishes and the few other chores that needed doing--that included collecting the trash. Now I don't have to do it tomorrow evening. :)

By the time I was done with that stuff, Grandpa looked like he was trying to get his afternoon's forty-winks in, so we left. I left before Savannah and thereby was locked out of the house, so I stood and watched the snow come barreling down. It was pretty...and cold...and fascinating...

When we came in, we...guess what? We played music all afternoon!! :)

In reality, I think we may have really only played half a dozen songs...but we were practicing and enjoying it. We haven't played together in such a long time.

I didn't really play my guitar(s) at all. Only on "Salley Gardens". But that was okay, because I was taking a helpful hint from a brother and really putting my nose (figuratively speaking) to this instrument:

So, I may hold the tipper "wrong" (don't know for sure), but I am excited to say that I really was starting to get the hang of how running said tipper works. I started out too straight wristed, but by the time we quit, I had the bend nearly right.

To start with, I had to get over the fear of making too much noise (and inharmonious noise to boot) and just PLAY the thing. Once I gritted my teeth and went with it, I started to "feel" it...

And, ya know what? I even found out that I can sing while playing the thing at the same time!!

So yeah, breakthroughs!!

Savannah stood there and memorized "The Flowers of Edinborough" while I bashed around on the bodhran. 

We had SOOO much fun...and of course, took a few goofy pictures to cinch the afternoon's fun (before I had to run off and feed chickens).

So...so much for "romance" on Valentine's Day. ;) 

Remember this?

Well, I have actually started playing (aka "working on") out of it. And boy...does it hurt!

I really like it...but as the songs are barre chord heavy, it's something of a work out! As you may know, I have wide-ish hands, but my fingers are short and a little stumpy. It's times like these that I'm thankful God saw fit to give me double jointed thumbs! I do believe that feature expands my reach a little. Anyway, barre chords (particularly full barre) take hand strength...maybe more than I have right now. (Cover your ears folks, she's "dubbing" through them barre chords agin!) But...that's not stopping me. I'm going to push through, yelp "OUCH!" every now and again, moan "but my fingers are too short" and go right ahead and do it. Things we do for the music we love, eh?

My wrist has returned to acting up again which doubles the issues I have with barre chords to begin with...so I brace up before I play and screw up my face as I work through a particularly daunting looking chord.

Here's the neat part though...I have been s-l-o-w-l-y inching my way into more difficult pieces over the past year and I'm finding, jumping head first into barre laden pieces, that my sight reading way down (or technically 'up') the neck has dramatically improved! Um...that's not to say that it's perfect. I still have a long way to go, but I am not having to stop and count...and grab the tuner (or my 'cheat sheet') to determine correct note nearly as much. 

The above book has TAB in it, under the notation line. TAB is rather like cheater-notation, so I tend to dislike it; particularly as it distracts me and, if I fall into the habit of looking at it, it does two things, a) confuses me and b) makes me lazy in my note reading. However, I am finding it helpful in this book. I look at the notes of a barre chord, set my fingers on the strings...and if I have any question, I can quickly peek at the TAB...this saves me the trouble of removing my fingers from the strings to go double-check elsewhere as to whether or not my fingers are placed correctly. Other than that, I am forcing my eyes to stay above the line of TAB. It good for the self-discipline...an area I, at any rate, need work in. 

Oh...and if you're wondering, four songs is about max at this point...the ones I'm playing being 2-4 pages long. I can't take any more than that! However, I hope to be able to keep "raising the barre"...

P.S. This whole post made me think of the sermon this morning--which was on the "lust of the flesh, the lust of the eyes, and the pride of life". Pastor was talking about pride...and I wonder if I came across prideful in this post, since I do seem to be bragging a bit on myself and patting myself on the back. I didn't really mean it that way, it's more that I'm just excited that I have had improvement (despite pain).

I might as well pitch in here that I just felt like writing too...funny how one deals with the desire to communicate...I write on here because I don't really feel like talking, or my family is all engaged elsewhere.

Soo....let's see if I can make this interesting.

I started out the day with a serious head-washing. It was time to drop the lye soap for a wash and switch back to my favorite, baking soda and vinegar. There was only one problem with that...the vinegar spray bottle has gone AWOL. I'm wondering if it isn't sitting on the bathroom counter at Granddaddy's house... Anyway, pouring cold vinegar out of a pint jar isn't necessarily my favorite way to go about it, but I was bound and determined that my scalp and attached hair would thank me in the long run. 

So, with clean hair, I find out that I'm going to help clean out the chicken coop. :D Seriously, I always seem to have just washed my head when something potentially nasty comes up. Anyway, I braided my ponytail and looped it up on the back of my head, tied a scarf over the top, and put on the respirator (I have elevated mold levels, so we're trying to be careful with me on that front.)

Oh, by the way, maybe I ought to mention that the reason we were doing the chicken coop today was that it was actually above freezing (I believe it hit 41 today!) and Katherine really wanted to get some of the straw/chicken "stuff" build up out. She was actually going to do it, but Davy called and told Daddy he wanted to go ahead and get the rest of a tree they started on last week, so she went with Daddy to help. 

Mama and I headed for the chicken coop and  forked and scraped and pounded away at frozen chicken poop...but that was after we (and Katherine, they hadn't left yet--obviously) chased the chickens out of the coop and into the snowy run (they hate snow) and managed to free up a frozen gate (I broke it in the process, but it still works) to block them out. I got so hot doing that that I striped my heavy duty denim coat off and never put it back on. 

Anyway, we got started sometime around noon (we ate breakfast late, which turns out was a good thing!) and didn't get done til around 2. Believe me, I was pretty hungry by that time! 

To be completely honest, it felt good, to a degree, to get out and work like that. My upper body strength is still lacking, but worse than that, my left wrist was killing me. I astounded myself at one point my lifting this huge hunk of frozen straw and being able to pitch it into the back of the go-buggy...but man, did that hurt!

When we came in, I went right ahead and ate (I have that prerogative since getting too hungry a) seems to cause my Lyme stomach issues to flair and b) I tend to get rather grouchy) before everyone else.

After lunch, Mama did the dishes (I intended to) and I went straight to my stitching. I did not quite get the bodice finished on the dress I'm working on, but I feel like I did a good job on what I did get accomplished. Trying to learn from my mistakes you know...like being in such a state of excitement that I plow ahead instead of double-checking everything. That was part of the problem with the Harlequin dress.

Anyway, in the middle of this post, Savannah started playing "My Southern Soldier Boy" and I got this incurable itch to get my cello out and play along (we used to play that one together in Florida, but haven't done so since we've been here, I don't think). I am really rusty...and my wrist hurt (of course), so you can imagine that I didn't sound overly amazing, but with Savannah on the piano, Katherine on fiddle, and me on cello, I think the piece might have some potential if we actually played it at all frequently. I think I would play my cello more if it wasn't of necessity stored in the case...if I had a stand for it where all I had to do was reach out and pick it up (like my guitar), I think I'd so. :D

Ah, well...it seems like today was busy with various interesting items...

Yesterday was Epiphany (or "Little Christmas" as we call it) and it was very small...but quite nice! :)

Mama got me something along the lines of a desire I have had for a while...

This was my immediate reaction:

See what I got???

I must admit here that I have yet to try my hand at any of these pieces. I was actually going to do so while rendering After Effects compositions (I have half a dozen or so in the queue), but with a warning about a hard-drive space shortage, I am instead moving files around on the Monster while typing here. It is my opinion that I seriously need to organize my external hard-drive...it's a mess of files. :P

Well, I've gotten enough stuff moved that I'm no longer showing red on my C drive. Guess I'll see if I can get all these comps rendered now. (And maybe get a little finger pickin' in!)

This morning as I sat in bed, I was looking at my hands. Why, I don't remember. But as I was sitting there, looking at my hands, I had a few thoughts cross them. 

I have been playing the guitar for roughly eleven years, but I doubt that anyone listening to me play would be able to tell that. 

It made me blue for a few minutes...that I'm not as "good" as some other folks are--some of whom have not played nearly as long as I have. But, I have never had any aspirations to really be a professional. Oh sure, I've had those far out dreams of 'someday' having a family band, but I never really expected it.

I have a difficult time with music memorization. It is something I work on--sometimes.

But then, I got to thinking. 

I love music. I love the guitar. These are the reasons I play. Not to awe people with my talent (do I have any?) and my skill. There have been times when I felt like crawling into a corner and bawling and I have gone and picked up my guitar and started playing--and in a relatively short amount of time, have been restored to a more joyful outlook.

So yes; I have been playing 11 years and no, I don't sound as awe-inspiring as I could...but in the long run, so long as I continue to learn (which I do) and enjoy the music I make, it really doesn't matter that I cannot match up to other people. And you know what? Those other musicians don't sneer at me for my lack of gorgeous tone. :) 

I also took the following into consideration: I have had stretches of time were I did not play regularly (summertimes, frequently; or when I was in Florida--for various reasons) and then, with my Lyme, my hands got stiff. I did not realize it at first, but once I did, it helped me see why my playing had seemed to reverse instead of improve. I lost agility and therefore speed, accuracy, and clarity. Thankfully, I have had some improvement on that front. 

I printed off a whole new stack of music last night and I look forward to easing into it. But for now, I have stuff to do that does not have to do with sitting down to essay that.

Oh and where to begin??? What a glorious, joyful weekend!

I suppose, for the sake of coherence, I probably ought to start on Friday and the trip over to Illinois. It was, thankfully, uneventful and we did not arrive late, even though we got out a little later than we intended. One of the first things I noticed was that Providence Church did not have the usual castle wall facade up...things seemed to be a little more loosely organized in general this year, but it really didn't detract from the lectures and fellowship, so I am not complaining. :)

Unfortunately, we did not get very many pictures, so I haven't any pictures to show you of our dear S's. They were already in Illinois visiting family and came to RefDay for Friday and half of Saturday. They came on over here Saturday afternoon  and just left this morning, taking my elder sister with them...but I'm getting ahead of myself.

I was standing in a doorway talking with my 'brother' Andrew H. when I spotted the S's. I rather unceremoniously blurted, "Oh!" or something like that and left off in the middle of a sentence to dash the fifteen feet to where they were sitting. I'm afraid I was really quite rude and I must apologize for it.  

However, minutes later, I grabbed Andrew by the elbow and propelled him over to meet the S's...and then R and L...I think, were roped into the group to meet them. There was so much talk and laughter and joy that I cannot remember everything that happened...or what order it happened in.

Friday there were three lectures. Two by Phil Kyser and one by Douglas Bond. The topic of this years Reformation Day was the Huguenots--of whom I knew practically nothing. Dr. Kyser first spoke in a general overview sort of way about the theology and orthopraxy of the Huguenots. One could say that they were the "Christian Reconstructionists" of their day; with the same kinds of total-life view of the application of Scripture. (By the way, I do classify myself among the 'Reconstructionists'...there is of course, some variation within that categorization because of human nature.)

Dr. Kyser's second talk (after Mr. Bond's) landed right down my alley--the Huguenot just war theory. He referenced a book "Vindiciae Contra Tyrannus" (or something like that) by a Frenchman named Mornet (I believe; and it's probably not spelled correctly) that I put on my "must-read" list. I agreed...and I nodded...and I took notes...and I grinned...suffice to say, I thoroughly enjoyed that talk.

Douglas Bond's three talks (one on Friday, two on Saturday) were really rather like one, just split into three parts, in which he told stories about different persons and event that took place during the Reformation in France: he spoke of Calvin, Verit, the queen of Navarre, Renee of France, Gaspard Coliny, and others. (There is a bit of story that goes with that, but I'll get there in the chronology.) Anyway, Mr. Bond is an engaging speaking, though, rather like Bill Potter (also a story-teller) not someone I am able to take notes from--so I didn't; I just listened. 

Friday evening, the Josties did the concert. I enjoyed it more than I expected too. For some reason, I assumed that they did gospel music--and a lot of gospel is rather well...not my cup of tea (partly because of the theology of the words and partly because of the way people sing.) I was pleased to hear that they actually know how to sing. (Sound like a snob, don't I?) 

Saturday is always the most particularly exciting day...we girls got up and got decked out in our outfits:

We had a little time to spare, so we goofed around a little...the above mentioned attempt at opening the window was part of that. Turns out, I had actually locked it when I was trying to unlock it. (In other words, I did get it open eventually.) Katherine thought I looked so funny tugging on the window that she had to get some pictures...and they did come out funny, so I thought I'd share them for your amusement.

We got to the church a little early, so took a brief reconnaissance drive around to locate the school were the dance was going to be that evening. (I knew where it was, but we thought we'd familiarize ourselves with the route.)

Well, we got back, pulled into the parking lot, and parked next to a silver car with an NRA and AOPA sticker on it. We made a few remarks about it...(NRA's a good thing!) without knowing who it belonged too--turns out as we found out that afternoon, it belonged to none other than our adopted brothers R!! It was hilarious that we unintentionally parked right next to them!

So, we go into the building, not knowing the R's were there yet, trot up the steps and who do I see across the foyer but Caleb! In a matter of minutes, three sisters and three brothers were greeting each other and talking 90 miles an hour, across this little circle. The S's arrived and were dragged into the circle by yours truly. I don't know exactly whose idea it was to sit together, but we ended up in a single row like this: Andy, Caleb, Katherine, Racheal, Savannah, and Dan. The S's were in the row ahead of us since we all wouldn't fit in one row.

My fingers went nearly ceaselessly during the three talks that took place that morning (Rev. McDonald's impression this year was of Gaspard Coliny's elder brother--the name I forget) and I got the entire cuff of Andy's second kilt sock finished! Yay! (I finished the first sock Friday on the way over.) Toward evening, I had Andy try on the completed sock and it fit perfectly! He seemed to really like it...and it appeared to me that he didn't want to take it off! I am going to make him and Dan both a set of kilt flashes to go with their kilts/socks. (Dan got himself a kilt...I forgot to ask what tartan it was, but it looked rather like Graham to me and Graham is my primary tartan claim.) I have also been commissioned to knit Dan a pair of kilt hose. :) However, you're not here to read of the Socketeer's business prospects...

Let's see...we were to have a jam session between lunch and the Highland games (about an hour); so we gathered out in the cold wind and the slight sprinkle and waited....and waited...and waited while the poor over-taxed food vendors worked as fast as they could to feed the line of people. Both Dan and Caleb had already eaten by the time Savannah, Katherine, Andy, and I had gotten our food. (The H's would have already eaten, I guess, because their last name falls in the first half of the alphabet and we were assigned to eat according to last names.) Once we ate, we went in and jammed. As promised, Andy helped me on 'General Taylor' both during the jam session and later as we headed toward the Highland Games. (As of this afternoon, I'm doing terrible on it; but I do know what it is that I need to work on.) I still can't keep up with Andy's flying fingers, but I did a little better this year because I am in practice better than last year. I don't know exactly what it is, but my guitar's tone doesn't seem to blend overly well with his...even though I was in tune.

We actually did a few of songs that we girls are proficient at--including "Hallelujah, Praise Jehovah"--which our brothers informed us was much too fast. Ha! ;) It's not a dirge, you guys! ;D (It was actually rather humorous, the banter about that...) 

But we did 'Salley Gardens', one of my favorites (me finger-picking to boot!)...'Be Thou My Vision'...oh boy...I can't remember the rest, but it sure was fun. Strumming, bowing, percussion, whistles, voices...I look forward to the next jam session. :) (Maybe I ought to practice a little harder too!) 

We moved on to the Highland Games with little ol' me trying to match my  voice to Andy's and conquer General Taylor; by the time we got there, Andy told me he thought I had it...well, sorta, Andy...sorta. :)

Caleb did not win the cabor toss this year; I think he came in second (or third at the least)...and someplace along in there in the rock toss. I went and bugged Andrew about getting in on the 'funn' but he didn't because he had a shoulder bugging him. I agree, it's not a good idea to stress already bothersome joints/muscles. I stayed over there instead of wandering back to where Savannah and Katherine were because I could see better (the announcer) had stepped in front of us three and I got busy hollering for all my "brothers" (the H's, the R's, and the B's). I figured I might as well get into it and have fun. 

Christopher, Thomas, William, and Joshua B. were being noisy in a different fashion and I vainly tried to get them to slacken their "war chant". Andy told me to ignore them and they'd quit--but they wouldn't have. I know those guys...they are so much themselves (which sounds weird).  I heaved Christopher up at one point and he was squawking, "Put me down!" with a huge grin in his voice...and so I kept ahold of him until he asked sweetly if I would, "Put me down...please." What? PLEASE? From the Lion-hearted?? Yes, dear...

I grabbed William around the shoulders at one point too...I forget what it was about...but he really doesn't mind the affection. (Those boys know that I love 'em--because I've told them so.) Thomas doesn't stick around as long for hugs. :D I'm doing good with Joshua just to ruffle his hair--he's never been as receptive to it anyway (he likes Katherine best of us three girls).

Daniel B. did the cabor toss for the second time this year. He's such a scrawny looking young man, though tall enough, that the he doesn't look like he could handle it well, but he did pretty decently. Give him a couple more years and he may be giving the standing camps (Caleb and a feller named Matt [who plays a pretty mean piano, too!]) a run for their money. (Daniel doesn't talk to me much these days [he's 16 and too into football after church to want to stand around and exchange pleasantries with me], but we're still family, as his coming up Saturday evening to let us know his 'battle wounds' were not hurting anymore, showed. I'm pretty fond of that tall, skinny, blue-eyed kid.)

Let's see...there were all kinds of humorous little situations, from one guy taking a head-first dive into the dirt right after his rock went flying, to joking about the Canadian running around in shorts and shortsleeves while everyone else was dressed a little heavier; even the guys in kilts had on more clothing with long sleeves and all.

I did it...I really did. Whether or not I should be embarrassed about it is another question. I gave my last year's critique of Andy's sword play to him--and like a gentleman he listened to me...and even took it. I could see that he was defending himself a little tighter. In other words, he stayed in the fight a little longer! I mean, literally, there were a couple of times that I wanted to snatch a fallen boffer and chase some dude off from Andy last year. :D I do so enjoy a good bout of sword-play that it can be hard to "just watch" the boffer wars. The three R's fought shoulder to shoulder...and at one point, some guys in front of me encouraged themselves, "Let's get the Canadians!" and promptly descended upon the three of them. I was thinking: "But they're not Canadian!" Oh, well...odd.

Let's see...I don't want to bore my readership with flash-tidbits of moments that either amused me or had significance to me...but would be "blah" to you all...so I'll just sum up the Games in this way: I had much fun watching them, talking to Andrew and Andy, teasing the B kiddos, yelling in support of my friends, laughing, and looking "goofy" (according to KT) with my shawl tucked on top of my head. After a while, I got cold and along with that, both my 'Lymie' wrist and hip started to ache a little, so when Savannah, Caleb, Katherine, and Andrew headed in, I went with them.

Shortly after that, the other two R brothers came back from the wars. Andy with beat up hands (not good for a professional musician); he held his hands up to show me his swollen knuckles and his hands were still quivering. Dan had a goose-egg on his right wrist, though I didn't know that until we were dancing the Virginia Reel and he had to quit clapping because it was bothering him. (I stamped my foot so hard I make my knee hurt during that dance. :D)

The discussion of "where are we going to go eat supper" started in earnest. No one wanted to see me out of sorts from food (me most especially!) and so we settled on a Bob Evans some 10-15 minutes away. The R's led the way in their car and I moved to the backseat to allow Andrew the use of the front seat (afterall, his legs are twice as long as mine!) and thusly we went, "Won't Caleb drive a little faster? I'm hungry!!" :D Turns out, he was driving so slowly because he thought Savannah was an overly cautious driver. (I.e. a duffer--like me.) Anyway, so we got to Bob Evans and I laughed something about only Caleb and Andy be the normal looking people amongst the seven of us, for Dan was kilted and Andrew was decked out in early 1800's styled finery, not to mention the medieval/Reformation style outfits of the ladies of the party! I really didn't feel as awkward as I thought I was going to. Some lady in the restroom asked me if we were with 'the show' (apparently there was some sort of Broadway-esque show playing in Peoria)...

After we were seated, I cornered Dan to get some information concerning the voice over he is supposed to be doing for me and as soon as I said "Voice Over" he got this look on his face that really cracked me up. I swallowed his excuses (I have less excuse than he does for not being any further along than I am!) and proceeded to order my salmon. There was lively conversation and plenty of laughs over our supper. I'm afraid I looked askance at the blueberry pancakes that ended up in front of Dan...I could just imagine eating that and being so sick I couldn't walk straight. :D It was even more fun though to tell Andy "Eat!" every two minutes...he really only glared good-naturedly at me once. (We had a time limit because the ball started at 7:30.)

Well, we made it (and many thanks to Dan for picking up the tab for the entire table!) and were there and ready when the dancing started. Mrs. B called this year and I think did a pretty good job for her second full ball. I was pleased as punch when Christopher strolled up and proffered his hand to me. I don't recall the little stinker ever asking me to dance before...that was the Waves of Tory...so we had short me and even shorter Christopher--but we managed the arches without over much trouble. :)

As previously mentioned, I did the Virginia Reel with Dan, whose arm was hurting him. He kept clapping, then stopping, and then starting again. It's odd how somethings just "happen" even though you know it would be better if you quit doing whatever it is. (I've done that while playing spoons before; the blisters start coming and I just keep playing.) It's practically impossible not to clap during the Virginia Reel!!

The Virginia Reel and the Gay Gordon (or Carolina Promenade, depending on who you are talking to) are my favorite dances and both were done. I started that one (it's a mixer) with Andy...likewise the Pattycake Polka (and of course, I had to mention how 7 lb.s of Bacon does it...and he quipped something about 7 lb.s of bacon sound good. Goofy! ;P) 

I think nearly all the dances were ones I had done before...since I am learning the ECD terms and steps, I'm getting to a point where I can just pick up and go with a dance after a real quick walk through. Remembering the names and which is which is the hard part! I love to dance! 

It was roundly agreed amongst ourselves that we could have kept dancing much past 10...but since we had to be out of the building by a certain time, we had to quit. I was sooo wound up that night that I didn't conk out very fast and then I woke up early. 

We wiled away the time before it was time to go to church by packing and loading the car. Oh, and 'peep ob-ing'. ;) Looking out our window, we could see the parking lot of the neighboring hotel--even from that distance, I recognized members of the J family (whom I don't actually know, but I know who they are). Minutes before we left, I spotted two heads bobbing along...as soon as they appeared from behind a tree, I knew who they were. Of course, the guitar case really helped, but I knew it was Andy and Dan without it. :D

The sermon was edifying and interesting as Rev. McDonald spoke on verses 9-22 of II Timothy 4 (the end of the book). He was noting how this was, in a way, rather like Paul's last will and testament and how he was thinking about people, not possessions or position, as he neared the end of his life.

I find that communion is a bit on the awkward side at Providence, but I appreciate being able to take it all the same. And that church sings. Not just robustly, but in parts. You can hear the sopranos, the basses, the tenors, and probably the altos if you're really listening (we tend to get lost, I think, between the sopranos and tenors). It is just a joy to sing at Providence because it is so beautiful. 

The church kindly provided people lunch on Sunday afternoon. I went downstairs with my sisters and Andy, but, because I offered to take Bibles and jackets upstairs, I ended up going through the line with Caleb and Dan (rather than cutting back in, I just joined the end of the line). Dan filled up a tray again this year, but not as much as last year...and once again, he ate practically all of it. :D I was full after a single plateful.

During lunch (like last year) Savannah and Andy talked non-stop. Caleb interjected into whichever conversation he wanted to, and Dan and I probably spent more time talking about guns than anything else. :D Katherine was quiet for the most part and just ate while listening intently to Savannah and Andy; until R came over and slipped in between KT and I...there was some joking about me having enough room...which I assured her I had enough room and we'd know that I didn't when I fell off the end of the bench and hit my head on the brick wall beside me. ;)

Before we left, we spent roughly another hour doing a hymn-sing in the sanctuary. Seth, someone I know who they are because of filmmaking, accompanied us on the piano. We concluded with "God Be With You Til We Meet Again" (which I did not know)...and it was so beautiful, I was beginning to choke up!

Then, seriously right before we left, we had a little photoshoot where Katherine got to use the timer on her camera. Here's the results:

It's really funny...because if you are scrolling through the pictures, we look like we're all swaying if you flip between them. :D (Obviously, we did not stand in age order, or height order or in any usual sense of photographic orderliness. We just lined up like siblings and waited for Katherine to dash back to the group.)

And just one final picture...Andy, waiting for his brothers to return so they could start home:

It was a grand weekend...and I look forward to seeing all the friends mentioned in this post "the next time" whenever that rolls around!

God Bless Y'all! It's a joy knowing you!