I got home from a quick trip into our little town after mailing a package and dropping into the School Corporation building to fill out the necessary paperwork to get our Farmer's Market cleared to use the School Corp. parking lot--our location for the last, oh, I don't know, decade maybe? 

I took over the Market Master position last year...but the previous Market Master had already taken care of this legal aspect, so I was facing a new experience. I was slightly nervous about it for several reason, not least possibly being the fact that I've hardly been out of the house for months now as I continue to deal with a re-occurring foot infection that for two weeks out of three keeps me strictly shoe-less. So, boldly walking in on strangers and "adulting" caused some slight apprehension. Silly, I know...but the truth.

Anyway, I got home from said quick trip...and as I plunked my wallet down on my desk, I declared to Katherine (who was practicing her piano), "Well, I adulted and it was fairly painless."

She almost laughed and said, "It usually is."

And you know what? She is right. It usually is pretty painless to behave like I'm my age. To face a stranger over a business proposition with my head up and my shoulders back. I may not look beautiful or graceful, but honesty and a grin never hurt anybody. 

I was talking to my mom this morning some about how each of us, even my parents, deal with "moving on" as we begin to function on a higher plane the more we beat our Lyme and Co. When I was diagnosed, I was 22. I am now 26. Those four years in between...large chunks of them are missing. I lived through them (obviously, I'm not dead) and I even did things like working a Farmer's Market every weekend June through September...and a reenactment here and there. But, so much of that time was lost. I aged, without necessarily my mind getting any older. (So don't mind me when I act a little too young. I just haven't caught up to myself yet. ;D) I lost social skills I once had...

Beyond that, there is an emotional "loss". Like I said to my mom, it's like there are emotions there, underneath the flatness, but you just can't quite reach them. (Other days, you sit and cry for no logical reasons.) And then the anxiety--which can cause undue and ridiculous (if you aren't the person living it) stress over even very simple things--perhaps having to get out and pump gas. 

We have to relearn how to deal with emotions, good and bad. We have to relearn how to face stressful situations. We have to learn how to live again. Really live. Not just breathe, eat, and sleep. 

Relearn how to read and absorb information. To read a sewing pattern. To play instruments and sing. To follow through with a task (oh what a biggie this one is!) To step outside our comfort zone.

To adult. 

To walk into a building of complete strangers, standing straight and tall, with a smile and no stuttering as we inform them why this funny looking girl with the black-leggings, denim skirt and red cabled sweater has just intruded into the peace of a beautiful lobby.

It's getting easier. 

I only regret that the "G" I wrote on the paper was so wobbly. A capital "G" is the worst looking letter in my handwriting's vocabulary. 

This post stems from a conversation Katherine and I were having on our way home this past weekend. I forget how exactly we got on "girly-blogs" and my general distaste for such herd-mentality inducing blogs, relying on other women to tell us what we are supposed to think, how to feel, dress, eat, etc... Most importantly to this particular post is the state of the heart and relationships. Bottom line, everyone is different and will have to deal with relationships in a variety of fashion--how I (attempt) to keep my head and heart in line may not be an effective measure for you. That is not to say that life and love and relationships are arbitrary or subjective. There is one set of principles that goes for ALL of life. The Bible. The Ten Commandments.

That brings us then to the question: what is love? 

Maybe I ought to define love. I mean both non-romantic love and romantic love. The how we are to relate to one another, irregardless of our attraction or lack of attraction for different people.

So, love. What is it? At it's core, all types of love are the same. Very simply put, love is keeping the Law of God towards each other. Your sister isn't feeling well...you love her by unselfishly (uncomplainingly) picking up her tasks. You think you are "in love" with a particular guy...so, you love him by not tempting him...by seeking his best interest. 

Those are very generic examples, but how do those two examples keep the Law toward one another?

The first one could fall under the category of the 5th Commandment: "Honor thy father and mother..." The Westminster Larger Catechism points out that, "The duties of equals are, to regard the dignity and worth of each other, in giving honour to go one before another; and to rejoice in each others’ gifts and advancement, as their own."

So by picking up someone's slack, we are giving honour one before another...

The second one can also fall under the 5th Commandment, but also the 7th: "Thou shalt not commit adultery." WLC #138: "The duties required in the seventh commandment are, chastity in body, mind, affections, words, and behavior; and the preservation of it in ourselves and others; watchfulness over the eyes and all the senses; temperance, keeping of chaste company, modesty in apparel; marriage by those that have not the gift of continency, conjugal love, and cohabitation; diligent labor in our callings; shunning all occasions of uncleanness, and resisting temptations thereunto."

So love...it's not a squishy feeling. It's our job or duty--our daily calling one to another, to serve one another even when we do not feel like it. Does it come with the glowing feelings? Sure...but love isn't based on the warm feelings. Those are transient.  Do I always feel fuzzy about my family members? In all out, flat honesty--no. Am I to always love them? Yes. 

So love, no matter what type of love it is--familial, friendly, that to the stranger you run into in the grocery, or toward "that guy" you like--true and faithful love is based ONLY in the love and law of God Himself. We cannot rightly love unless we realize that love is obedience to the law of our Sovereign God. It's that simple. 

Are you struggling with loving people--whether not as well as you should or by an attraction to someone? The answer, simple, though at times hard to implement, is asking oneself, "How am I keeping the commandments to/for/about this person/situation?"

We fail. I fail DAILY. But God grants forgiveness and a desire to live more and more after His image. 

That's the funny thing about true Christianity. It's not complicated. It's really quite simple and straight-forward. Easy it is not. No one ever said, "Simple is easy", or if they did, they were thinking only of things like jig-saw puzzles. Straight lines are simple, but very difficult for me to draw--even with a ruler. God's Law is rather like our ruler...my sins and failings (anti-love of God and my fellow man) are like the wiggles in my line--the bumps where my clumsy fingers protrude over the ruler and interrupt the line.

What is love? Keeping the Ten Commandments. May I remember this and implement this in my own life in this upcoming year....

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

January 

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

February

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

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

 March

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

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

April

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

May

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

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

June

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

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

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

July

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

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

August

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

September 

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

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

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

October

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

Also in October, I hit 26. 

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

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

November 

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

I did the first stages of winterizing by myself:

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

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

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

December 

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

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

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

Then of course...Christmas!

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

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

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

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

Happy New Year 2018!!

Before I get started, let me preface my remarks with Proverbs 15:28:
                               "The heart of the righteous studies how to answer,
                                     But the mouth of the wicked pours forth evil."

I read that this morning and it stuck with me. I want to be the righteous man (or woman) who studies how to answer. I may be a "Johnny come lately" to this whole Confederate Monument Removal debate, but I wanted to speak...even if this ends up just being an exercise is writing and logical thinking for myself.

First off, I have not been following the issue closely--mainly because it makes me angry. I have been aware of it and ground my teeth, but I haven't expended as much energy on it as I might have in the past because it does no one any good for me to be irritable over something I have no control over. 

At any rate, some dear friends brought the subject up after "Messiah" practice earlier this week and I shot off with something along the lines of this is being used as a "distraction from the real issues". Then I realized with almost a sense of panic that while I knew exactly what I was talking about, I could not call it up much less articulate it! (And that, my friend, is one reason I don't do YouTube rant videos. I have this wonderful ability to totally lose my brain even on subjects I am quite capable in.)

Somehow, during my Bible reading out of Proverbs this morning, it hit me, that elusive "it" that the hydraulic door in my mind had slammed shut on, leaving me stranded without the key to open the door again. Yes, it is a distraction, but it's more than just a distraction by the Left from their socialistic, Marxist, statist bent and working. It's an attempt (and often a successful attempt) to manipulate public sentiment and thinking. This is why it is so important to learn how to think. To study history...one thing which they faithfully try to rewrite and destroy, because, as one of the young men pointed out, "If we don't know our history, we are doomed to repeat it." YES and EXACTLY.

The War for Southern Independence was fought, not over slavery (irregardless of how much it may have played some political part in the war), but over the exact same principles that led the Colonies to declare their independence from Great Britain and parliament. Those principles are the SAME ONES still under attack today by the Left--the Statists. 

Furthermore, the principles that the South fought for--that her forefathers in the Thirteen Colonies fought for--are based firmly on the Word of God. This is the real issue  behind the anti-Confederate hate that has spilled over to the point that people with false guilt tear down statues of God-honoring men who also happened to be military geniuses. 

The ungodly have, and always will, hate true law and order. Even if they are "law-abiding" citizens and for the most part prefer to live in a nation that has good laws, at their heart they still hate God and thus His law (upon which all true law and order are founded).

So yes, the tearing down of monuments makes my heart cry out. It angers me that my heroes are dishonored, my homeland abused and scarred.

But it also leaves me wondering, "How stupid can we, the people of America, be?" The liberal media (and whoever they are controlled by) have been manipulating the facts and the arguments for DECADES now. When do we shake ourselves like wet dogs and sit up and say, "I am actually going to think about these issues"? When do we, Conservatives, Christians...when do we stop letting them control the narrative? 

I pray God that MY generation wakes up. That MY generation will not be weak-kneed and hand their history to the trash bins. That MY generation will be given life by the Spirit and face the opposition like David against Goliath: "Then David said to the Philistine, “You come to me with a sword, with a spear, and with a javelin. But I come to you in the name of the Lord of hosts, the God of the armies of Israel, whom you have defied. This day the Lord will deliver you into my hand, and I will strike you and take your head from you. And this day I will give the carcasses of the camp of the Philistines to the birds of the air and the wild beasts of the earth, that all the earth may know that there is a God in Israel. Then all this assembly shall know that the Lord does not save with sword and spear; for the battle is the Lord’s, and He will give you into our hands.”" (I Samuel 17:45-47)

This is not arrogance but humble reliance on God for HIS almighty justice. 

My friends...the monument debate is important because history is important because TRUTH is important. It is more important than a statue...but when one removes visible reminders of truth (you know, something that may spark an interest in a passerby to look beyond what they've been told), then statues of long-dead men take on more significance. 

We are at this point because past generations played the weakling. Have failed to stand firm on truth. It's a practical outworking of the theology and philosophy of the day. And while angering, it is also saddening and should cause us to turn more earnestly to the Almighty in prayer for our fellow countrymen. 

Fools seek to destroy their history. Wise men seek to learn from their history. God willing, let us seek to be wise men--not only for our own good, but for His glory.

It's been awhile since I've written one of these posts...but it's been awhile since I have been this herxy. I was doing better until I realized I wasn't. I mean, I am better than I was this time last year, but I had essentially plateaued again. I'm about 95% sure that my main area of fight currently should be addressed toward mold, rather than Lyme and Co, so we are addressing it with various of the Cowden program leftovers and extras currently...and boy, have I ever felt it!

I was hoping those days of dissolving into tears for illogical reasons were over, but I guess not.

Nobody made me start sewing. No one even asked me to. I decided I would try to reduce one pile in the living room by finishing up some of these unfinished aprons, thus cleaning up a little and actually accomplishing something at the same time.

So why, all of a sudden, sitting at the machine, did I begin to feel stressed out? Why did I eventually begin to have those tears pool and finally spill over?

Well...the table I was sewing at is too high for me--it makes my back hurt a little. My fingernails were too long. My clothes aren't comfortable. My neck felt tight. My thumb, which I already had an issue with before I cut it deeply last Thursday, was, while not painful, just uncomfortable. The noise of the machine sounded too loud.

All of these are silly reasons to cry.

Normally.

Not when herxing though. It's not self-pity either somehow. It's just a sensation that one cannot handle life. So tears. Tears help. I'm no longer ashamed of breaking down and crying for no good reason. I realize that God gives us relief, even from physically induced emotional stress, through tears. 

I wept. I cut my fingernails (I had to get my sister to help me with one hand because of my thumb). And I felt, while not all better, much calmer of soul. For the present, at any rate....hopefully at least until tomorrow morning's dose of the same medicine. :)

To set the scene...I was standing there at the ironing board, not necessarily thinking of anything particular except for getting the wrinkle out of my shirt I'd just put in...when my brain drifted to a very minor, short conversation I had with a nice little lady at a recent event.

I had made some comment about not being able to move a particular way in my corset (which on later consideration, I wouldn't have done whatever it was even not in my corset because my back likes to go out of whack at particular angles and twists) and she pipes up along the lines of that's why she doesn't do a female impression. I was so tired I don't remember what, if anything, I said in response to that and let it slide...but it did get me thinking...

The stereotype that a corset is a strangulation device is hog-wash. It can be, sure...if you cinch it too tight like they like to do in the movies. I can run, dance, sing, play guitar, cook, sew, etc. while wearing mine without getting any extra-particularly out of breath. There is a minor degree of limited mobility--such as not being able to bend over as far at the waist as without one on, or even being able to twist the body around as far (but really, how often do we try to turn half-way around without moving our feet?) I bet you a girl could easily run a gun (cannon) in one of the things. I've fired blanks from a big-bore gun and a Gatling in mine. No hindrance. 

Anyway, the real point of this post is not to extol the virtues of the corset. It's to ask, "Why are so may girls so eager to get on the field, rather than to promote the stories of the women on the home front?" It certainly can't be any hotter in hoops and petticoats and corset and dress than it is in heavy pure-wool uniforms. So dears, nix that as your excuse. ;) 

I think it probably all boils down to the ingrained feministic teaching that even the Church propagates--women and men are equal. YES. We are--spiritual, morally (fallen), in the sight of Almighty God. However, equality of value does not add up to the same thing as equality of purpose or design. The Bible tells us distinctly that men are to be the heads of their households--defenders, protectors, etc. Women are to be the helpmeets to their husbands--keepers of the home (which ain't a job for the weak of spirit). This, when sought after by men and women striving to love God and men as taught in the Scripture, is the most beautiful lifestyle the world has ever seen. Strong men, protectors and providers--encouraged and backed by strong women who seek to instill Godly courage into their husbands, sons, and brothers. 

Recently, I've run into certain conversations concerning women in the 1860's that automatically assume that women (particularly Southern women), because they had no "voice" had no interest in politics until war hit. I had to laugh because these women--their fierce loyalty to justice and freedom ("political" notions if there ever were any)--literally, at times, kept their men on the field of battle defending their nation. Those kind of convictions don't happen overnight. 

So for the female reenactor who is out on the battlefield (and I do not deny there were a number of women who did disguise themselves and tread the field of battle with courage) --have you ever considered stepping from the men's sphere into the woman's? Have you ever stopped to think of the beauty you could bring to people's notion of the time--of the courage, the bravery, the loyal self-sacrifice of the women (both sides of the WBtS) by donning the dress, the corset, the hoop/petticoats and looking after "the house". Cooking for your men and their buddies...mending their rent clothing and so forth.

What is it that repels you from that? Why don't you want to be a woman in the sphere God ordained for you? A sphere that has such far flung influence...the saying that the "hand that rocks the cradle rules the world" has a mighty lot of truth to it. 

I encourage you therefore...seek to be a woman. Not a "female"--a woman. A woman who strives after the Lord--and consequently, justice, righteousness, courage, valour, faithfulness--in your ordained sphere. The home front. 

In conclusion--this is not to bash the women and girls who take the field. I quite understand the draw. I'm a soldier's daughter and I love tactics and firearms and the roar of artillery. I know that I would enjoy play-acting a soldier. I simple refrain because I am trying to do two things: a) remain in my biblically ordained sphere and b) present a part of history often lost--that of the home front. 

The point of this post is mainly to encourage you to think beyond "the fun"...and to look in all seriousness at the proper role of women in both that time and this. Because God does not change, therefore neither do His standards.

The enemy of Christ always realizes the value children. Why? Because they are the next generation and "train them up in the way they shall go" and they will follow right along in the footsteps of their fathers. Fill their little skulls full of mush with evil--and evil will follow. Teach them the Word of Righteousness--and even if they are not saved, they have a foundation of morality. (Can they entirely reject it? Of course, just as a child raised by evil can be not as entirely depraved as he has been raised to be--or he can even find salvation.)

Why, I must ask, why do Christian parents abandon their children to be educated by the state (particularly in these days)? Why are we so blind and so trusting? Why do we think that our little ones can resist the forces of evil alone? Why do we think that they will not be affected by the world around them unless we protect them and guide them?

As a child, I was educated at home; I lived what believe to be a fairly sheltered life (though the nature of my dad's job left me from an early age with the knowledge that life is bigger than me and my circle). As I grew older, and stronger in my faith, as I was fed the Word of God and settled on the doctrines of Scripture, I was introduced to the world as it is. A place of sin...and I was equipped to deal with it by further education. But! I was not equipped to deal with it as a child--even though I went to church every week and read my Bible every morning. If I had been thrust into the sphere of government education as a child, my mind would have been warped (I believe) in spite of my born-again state. 

Even further--I have seen under-prepared (home-educated) young people in their mid-to-late teens enter "secular" colleges...and have their thinking warped. Twisted. We must be ever vigilant as parents, as siblings, as friends, as PEOPLE to be aware of where the wayward heart of man is directed and constantly re-turn minds (our own included--first, actually) to the Word of God. To evaluate the basis of our thinking, our worldview. 

I have no children. I have no husband. I have no particular male friend for that matter. But I still see, and must see, and prepare to fight the enemy in all areas. Pride, lust of the flesh, anger, laziness...my children. I long to have little's I can call "my children" (for now I have to borrow other peoples' darlings) and yet I realize...their souls must be fought for, prayed over, given to the Lord. Outside of prayer, how best to do that but shield them from the influence of the world until they have a foundation under them which never buckles? I cannot guarantee that God will see fit to call those future children of mine into His fold, but I must never cease to guard them as children. When they become men, naturally, there is a letting go--but until they are grown--it is my responsibility before God (along with the husband I haven't yet) to protect them, guide them, instruct them in the Word of God.

Yes. The enemy understands the value of the children. The enemy delights in corrupting their minds...the enemy loves to use them. Why willingly hand them to him? 

History teaches us much...

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

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

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

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

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

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

A war for or against slavery.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Bobbie Mae.

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

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

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

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

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

Off to bed shortly,

I have this itch...no, not the one back there on my right shoulder blade that always reminds me where the spider bit me when I was 11...no, it's communication itch. I don't really feel like talking--but I feel like writing. It's not a creative writing itch either, just a ramble-writing itch. So here I am. It's been a while since I've done one of these...and it's been a long time since I have been consistent with my blog. Sometimes I even forget I have a blog. 

I seem to be having a fairly consistent element of brain fog recently. Not debilitating brain-fog; more along the lines of it takes actual work to concentrate, but I can concentrate if I really have the desire to. I'm bored when I have both no right to be bored or any reason to be bored. I have spent far too much time on the computer this week--which feeds the bored. Sounds odd, but it's true. When I spend too much time on the computer, I get bored faster. 

I have a half finished baby girl's dress in the other room. I need to finish putting the collar on, put the sleeves in, and hem it and it will be done. Oh yes, I do need to put the rick-rack on it too. Anyway...it's sitting there...and I'm sitting here and I don't "feel" like finishing it up. I might after a bit, but I'll get the "itch" out of my system first.

While the pretty orange dress sits there and gets cold, let me tell you something. My toes are cold. The nice thing in that frigid statement is that they are not numb. See, a lot of time when my toes get cold, one or two of them (on both feet) get numb and will not "wake up" even once my feet warm up enough that they should. Just a couple of days ago, I started using this "Circulation" essential oil blend and I think it is helping. Well, even if it's not, it has a real nice aroma to it, so the only ones who might complain about it might be the cats. 

My guitar really needs new strings. I've been saying that for months now and haven't done anything about it. I either need to go to the local music store and see if they have what I want or order myself some. I think I'd be a little more inclined to play if my instrument didn't sound flat and dull even when it is in-tune. There is something so disheartening about "dead" strings. I cannot remember the last time I changed them, but it is possible it has been over a year. (Yeah, y'all string players out there...cringe with me!)

Speaking of instruments and music, I've been pretty consistently playing piano. I mostly play out of "The Civil War Songbook" (big surprise, right?) and am starting to get some decent sounding speed up on some of the pieces I like to play. Others--well, not so wonderful sounding.

Katherine and I went to Hobby Lobby yesterday. I was shopping for a particular couple of projects and got some thing(s) for both. A friend from church has commissioned me to make him a particular Confederate uniform and I found, marked down in the remnant section, more than enough of a certain type of material I needed for part of kit. Nifty. I also found another remnant of white muslin that will work to make Katherine the white chemise she needs to accompany her ball gown. Now...we just need a day when we both are feeling up to corsets and fittings. (Katherine has not been doing so great this week.)

I have this bad habit. I have at least three 1860's projects I need to work on, plenty of time, and I spend more time theorizing than actually doing. Actually, to be honest, I do  have a legitimate excuse of each one. I lack measurements, I need measurements, and I need "someone" to be fitted. But the theorizing part is true. I frequently enough find myself day-dreaming over a project rather than actually getting started. Or working on it. I have two film projects in the works and both are moving like a snail on a cold day. Like I said earlier, I bored with no reason to be bored. At the moment, I'm feeling a little blue too--which could be because it's overcast and I'm chilly at the extremities...and I feel bored. (Man. I haven't used that word this much in a long time.) Even the Sousa Marches playing in the other room don't have me marching in time very hard. Unusual, for I love a march. 

Well, the "itch" was not supposed to be a complaining session, though it sure looks like it turned out that way. So--let me cast back over some more cheerful things. I have managed over the past few weeks to bring my Etsy inventory up to nearly 140 listings (with more to go). While I haven't made any sales this week, I have had eight in the last 30 days (which is better than this time last year by a long shot!), with just three of those last week. Funny how sales seem to come in spurts. I won't sell anything for a bit and then, wham! I have anywhere from 2-5 sales in 7-10 days. 

I have started learning German. Yes, I have. So far, it's not been too horrid of a learning curve. I do better understanding it than speaking it and I have been surprised that the spelling has been less of a hitch in my get along than I expected. I really do not have a good logical explanation as to why I decided to tackle German, but it had something to do with wanting to eavesdrop on the German WWII reenactors at RWWII this year and seeing how much Deutsche they actually speak. :D Oh yes, such an admirable reason to learn a language!

I've also been "bugging" Katherine to pick her French back up and she actually has started this week. German makes more sense to me than French (in the listening). I can't quite get my crooked teeth around French pronunciation either. I butcher the poor language. Look out world--the daily Southern, American English speech of this house is going to be seeing an uptake in quad-lingualness. (Quad: English, Spanish, French, and German. We all know at least un poco Espanol. We all know a little Deutsche, and I will even confess to understanding a wee bit of French. Let's not even mention the various British, Irish, and Scottish accents that we attempt to bandy about...though if I may, my Irish accent is better than Daddy's Brooklyn. :D)

I am going to need to go haul wood from the fuel room into the furnace room here in a few minutes, so perhaps I ought to leave you with that humorous note. Or I could say, "I'm hungry" (Ich habe Hunger) which for those of you quite familiar with me, might make you laugh even harder. So there. Since when am I not hungry at 6 0'clock pm?

​Auf widersehen! 

P.S. I am slightly wary about how my name is going to sound in German....