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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Saturday Morning: Train Ride

Saturday: Lunch

Abigail also got a few pictures of the battle:

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

Sometime before I completed my new 1860's dress I popped up into our barn loft and had inspiration strike! It's at least 100 years old in that part of the barn and I'm sure barn construction techniques did not vary very much between the 1860's and the early 1900's...and I knew I wanted a barn loft photoshoot for my new dress. We'll ignore the fact that it didn't come out as perfect as I wanted--the dress that is. The photoshoot was I think productive. Brace yourselves for a post full of my new dress, my round mug, an old barn, and an orchard full of white blossoms!!

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

January:

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

February: 

March:

April:

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

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

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

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

June:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

November: 
I guess it was fairly eventful...

December: 
The month of Christmas. 

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

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

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

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

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

First off--take a look:

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

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

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

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

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

I went to the orthopedic doctor this morning. We got there early, like we were supposed to, and I filled out a couple sheets of paperwork. I wasn't even done when I was called back. (Daddy was with me.) 

The lady took my blood pressure (I guess that's SOP for most doctor visits)--it t'went bad neither 117 over 70-something. 78, I think, but I can't really remember. She took my splint off, too. After she went out, the young intern/med student (whose name I cannot remember; he was pretty nice though) came in and asked a few questions and poked and prodded my arm a little bit. Then he had me bend my wrist! I wasn't expecting that, but went along. I quit the bending when it got painful, even though I could have pushed it through. (I don't think that would have been wise and he really wasn't asking for that.) He took his report out to Dr. E...who soon came in. All 6 foot+ of him.

It took literally moments before he and Daddy were swapping Army stories. Turns out Dr. E is a 24 year-Army vet! And I don't know how he knew I was born at Ft. Bragg--but he did...

Anyway, he took us into the hall so I could see my x-rays (because I had mentioned that I wanted to see them) and then lead us off through a bit of a maze (one could get lost in the OD until they got used to it) so he could take one more shot.

As it turns out, my radius is broke right about where the head starts to neck down and it's clear through. Not just a fracture. It's slightly impacted--and I even think I saw bit of a gap along the opposite side from the impacted area. Anyway, Dr. E said I'm right on the verge of needing surgery. So...I go back on the 22nd for a follow up. He seems to think I'll be fine. ;)

AND...I am so tickled that I got a removable cast!

Look at the bend he put into it. I'm guessing that while he shaped that thing across his knee (with my arm within), chatting with Daddy, he really wasn't ignoring me or what he was doing (I know he wasn't because at one point when I let out some variety of grunt, he said, "You can say 'uncle', you know.") I'm also guessing that the deep bend is not so much to keep my tendons stretched (though it will help come time for therapy), but to put an amount of...eh, what's the word I want? An amount of...counter-pressure (?) on the impacted part.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

1953.

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

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

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

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

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

My wrist had gone immediately stiff. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

THERE WAS A B-17 FLYOVER. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

So I like that one for some reason.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Love that smile, classy girl! 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I salute you. 

I did this interview with Grandpa Thanksgiving 2013.

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

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

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

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

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

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

​We did and we did. :)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Here's the first day in pictures:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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