It was a long, hot, fun weekend. I am now tired and hopefully will manage to make this an interesting AAR. I am going to do this perhaps a little differently than usual.

Thursday: We arrived at the park around 4:30-ish, if I recall correctly, and as we began to unload, with some slight assistance from Josh, Luke and Abigail arrived with their tent fly and wall for us to borrow again (our tent is a leaker, so the fly actually served as an extra roof). The finished set up looked like this:

Our next door neighbors on our right were, by choice, Hawk and Jill...and they had a new set-up!! What do you think?

We hung out under their fly and got eaten alive by skeeters...but still had fun.

Friday: Being School Day we prepped for the kids to walk through. Once again, we weren't official presenters, but were open to questions. A little over half way through the day, I suddenly realized why people kept asking about candles....

We made some new friends, due in part to a baby's bottle needing to be warmed and we having a close at hand fire...

Josh "strutted" around in his new Captain's uniform... ;)

Abigail and Grace came over Friday evening for supper and to spend the night crammed into our tent with us. Before heading off to the Land of Nod, we ended up photo-spreeing...

Furthermore, Obadiah was called in to play "Taps". Now technically, "Taps" is to be played at 10 pm, but it was probably more like 7 or 8 pm...but it is a reenactment....

Saturday: The big day...the day when the whole K. family turned out for the fun...and Mom and Dad came up for the afternoon!! :)

From my vantage point, the battle was sub-spectacular...not bad, but nothing uber exciting. Luke got hit twice (in the same knee). He said later the first hit was because he forgot to put in his ear-plugs and he wanted to put them in. Ethan got hit in the leg too, and later "died" and Andrew and Obadiah got into the action as well.

After the battle, Obadiah played "Taps"...

Troop photos (plus a few of the girls cheering them on)...

Random shots from the day:

Throughout the course of the day, music was played. In fact, we had an official request from General Lee to surround his tent and play. There are no photos of that, since the camerawomen were playing. Luke's accordion fell apart on him, which was really sad. 

The folks left sometime after the K's did and so Katherine and I sat around with Hawk and Jill for awhile, just relaxing and listening to the music from the ball (we didn't go for a number of reasons, one of which was my feet and legs were so tired), and wondering what was up "over yonder". Turns out a youngster had a 45 minute long nosebleed that led to a trip to the ER. He was apparently fine the next day because he was running around playing with other boys.

Sunday: A fairly peaceful day. Hot and humid. Hawk preached a good sermon out of John 4 (the Samaritan woman at the well), which just so happens to be where Pastor is preaching from at church. 

There wasn't a huge amount of interaction with spectators on this day, but we talked to friends and watched the battle which took it's toll on the Confederates. After that we watched the medical demonstration led by Mr. G (who is friends with the K's, sings "Messiah"...and has defeated Lyme disease himself). 

Something almost funny happened at this point. This lady I have been talking to at events on and off for the past two years came up behind me and re-introduced herself...and then asked a mutual friend/acquaintance, Lydia to introduce us girls to her four sons, as her daughter needed to use the ladies... It was a bit awkward, strolling with a girl in a Union artillery uniform into the Confederate artillery camp to meet the four boys. I remember all their names but one. (Philip, Nate, Curtiss...?) Anyway, I really kind of like Mrs. W. and she seems to like me. She asked how old I was and when I said, "26", her voice and body language seemed to say, "Oh...too old for my boys." :D 

We began to break camp not long after the battle and headed to the K's for Sunday evening church. Various people were taking walks or having naps when we got there, so I ended up standing in the kitchen drinking several mugs of water and talking to Luke for fifteen to twenty minutes while Katherine (poor abandoned dear!) rested herself on the front porch, alone. 

After church, some new friends of the K's arrived and we had popcorn and watermelon out doors.

We all spent the night because we were going to join them in/for the local Memorial Day ceremonies and parade. I know Abigail got photos, but we did not...and since I forgot to take my computer with me, I wasn't able to get any of her's. Therefore, no pictures.

Anyway, Katherine and I marched in our first ever parade. :) We were not too far from the head of it; the local High School band was in the lead, with something between them and Mr. S's (a WWII vet) 1939 Buick which we were behind, in the following order: Grace on a vintage bike, Luke and Abigail, then Katherine and I on either side of Obadiah. Behind us was Josiah on his unicycle. Isaac was supposed to drive his little red tractor, but it conked on him just before parade time. :( Poor thing, he was really disappointed (not that I blame him!) All of us, except Josiah were in 1940's dress (more or less), Luke decked out in his seaman's uniform. Andrew and Ethan did a fly-over in a Husky.

Before the parade though was a ceremony. Then after the parade was two ceremonies--one in each cemetery--on opposite sides of the main road. There was music and speeches and prayers which were Christian. Before the third ceremony, as people were mingling around, I accosted a WWII-vet and was allowed to plant a kiss on his cheek. I left red lipstick on his face, which he left there. The American Legion post was handing out plaques of recognition and he was one of the recipients. As it turns out, he was a sailor!! As he was coming up for his plaque, I heard Mrs. K saying something about the lipstick on his face and I leaned over and grinning said, "That's mine..." She laughed. 

Returning to the house and while waiting for lunch, Josiah and I  went out to look at his bees. In under five minutes, I had been stung twice. Once on the neck and once on the chin...so I about faced and headed in, with Josiah right behind me for ice and lavender oil. Next time, I'm taking my own bee helmet. 

After lunch, during which I bit down on my somewhat swollen lip, we talked and played our various instruments and just had a down right enjoyable time. We were the last to leave...we left around 9 pm, tired and worn out, but with another bucket full of memories. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The rest of the quote goes, "In search of El Dorado" (from the film "El Dorado")...but in this case it wasn't El Dorado I was after.

Anyway, to back up, yesterday saw the day I had scheduled for Gardening Day 1. The morning started with a quick three-stop run into our little town (post office, bank to deposit a couple of checks, and the gas station). Arriving home with my fuel, I unloaded it at the back of the barn, parked the car, and headed back to open the barn up wide.

Done with that, I hopped on the mower and mowed the top half of the garden area. I mowed fairly high so that the shorter dandelions would not be damaged too badly, except for where I was going to till.

I don't recall if this is only our second year of strip-tilling or the third. Either way, strip-tilling the top half of the garden was the task I had laid out for myself. Once done with the mowing, I greased the Bolens, hopped on and gave the thing a crank. Oh, it turned over, but it was clear it wasn't going to roar to life, even after being on the charger over night. Thankfully, this battery charger has this nice 50 amp jump feature (I've used it several times for various vehicles)...and when I got that set up, old Bolly rattled to life! (By the way, I gassed up first. It's not particularly fun, especially for me being so short, to put gas in the tank over that muffler when it's hot.)

Merrily on my way (and this was before lunch y'all!), I made the first pass. At the end of the row, following my usual routine when the field is planted (it got planted Saturday), I went to back up and do a multi-point turn around (the Bolens turns like a barge on the Mississippi...or an oil-tanker--whichever "meterpher" you prefer). Nothing. 

Reverse was non-extant. 

You have got to be kidding me! 

Okay, you're not. Why do we always have something go wrong with our machinery?

I wasn't hugely upset and decided that I would just have to bounce over the newly planted corn to get Bolly turned around and back to the barn. I also decided that I wasn't going to bug my dad with the problem unless I really couldn't figure it out myself. So I headed in to do a little research. (The internet is a gold-mine if you know how to dig right.) Locating a manual for a roughly contemporary dated Bolens yard tractor, I poked about looking for something that might be of help. I was in and out a couple of times (had to take pictures with clean-hands!) and someplace in here was lunch. After lunch, I headed out with a page printed from a manual for reference...

Fender removal was simple (and I am ever so thankful for that little red Sears tool set we keep in the back of the Suburban. It comes in mighty handy). 

​I compared my set up to the somewhat striated photos on the manual page and went to work.

I don't really know how long I spent tinkering, but I quickly figured out how the machine was supposed to work. 

When the drive pedal is pushed forward (with the toe), the forward jaw opens out (above photo) which, if my brain/knowledge is correct, engages a gear in what I think is probably called the gear box. When the drive pedal is pushed down (with the heel), it opens up the rear jaw (next picture), which reverses the gear (or some such thing). So, I may be a little sketchy on what exactly happens inside the box, but I did figure out that which side of the jaw opened corresponded with either forward or backward motion.

Furthermore, I was able to figure out, even without the help of the manual (though it confirmed my suspicions) that the thing (someplace in the manual, I thought it called it a clevis) in the next photo that is rather flat and kidney shaped was the culprit, more or less. 

The foot brake (which must be completely depressed for the engine to even think about turning over) is also connected to it (there at the rear is the foot brake bar's connection). There is a bar with an little "L" shaped end (you can just see it) that moves within the "kidney" determining the direction of motion. The Kidney is capable of some movement--which is where the problem came in. It had, somehow, since the last use of the Bolens gotten shifted ever so slightly, thus prohibiting the rear jaw to open wide-enough to engage the gear. It was an easy fix once I figured out exactly what I needed to do. (I didn't even need tools. Just some slight elbow grease--though I got more grease on me that the amount of elbow grease I needed.)

Before I put the fender arrangement back on, I cranked the machine (I was very careful, Mom!! I have zero interest in getting caught in a spinning drive shaft!) and using my hand, played with the pedal and ran it back and forth. Satisfied, I turned the tractor off, put the fender contraption back on, reattached the seat, crawled on, cranked up...and proceeded to spend the next several hours happily traversing back and forth tilling up the dirt.

I will have to till some more since today we pretty much filled up the ground I broke yesterday. But I don't mind. I like running machinery. :) 

And that was Day 1 and 2 of Gardening 2018....

It is finally beginning to look like Spring is actually getting here. But of course, as soon as I say that, it's going to drop off cold again here this weekend. (Literally.) 

Anyway, I took advantage of a beautiful sunny, low-60's temperature afternoon to begin the spring yard work. I started with the poor, mostly dead weigela out by the road.  

Some of that might not survive still, but that was all that had any life left in it. 

​Once I got done trimming, I collected the trimmings and the windfall linden branches and zipped them up the hill in the go-buggy. After dumping that load, I collected another load of windfall maple wood.

Poking around here, there and yonder, I discovered that various mints are peeking out, the bleeding heart is coming up, and joy of joy--DANDELIONS!!

Right, so there were only about an even half-dozen that I saw, but still...bee forage is a comin'!

Katherine hied out to plant the cherry trees that Mr. Y, a WWII vet from church, had given us.

I took my shotgun out with me, on the off chance that a Starling would show his pointy little beak. Naturally, true to form, I saw nary a one during the entirety of my time out of doors, but I decided to give my little break-action a mini-photoshoot of her own:

I have bees buzzing in and out of both hives (Huzzah!) I made up some syrup and put it out since it will be warm enough (day and night) for the next few days to enable them to consume the stuff. 

That's the outdoor report. Indoors, I am taking baby-steps towards conquering a few piles and messes that I have not been able to keep up with with my feet being broke out (speaking of which, they are look and feel the best they have since before they broke out in November).

I am still extracting the honey I took off the hive that died in January (I think it was).
I finally washed the honey bucket that had the Spring 2017 honey in it that I fed back to my little hive. It had been sitting on the table for weeks now. (Procrastination. And not feeling good. A combo that I really am trying to to address better.) 

I still need to vacuum the floor here to finish my to-do list for the day...better go do that....

"Episode One"...ha. Anyway, these headlines may or may not be semi-frequent in future. Just sayin'.

I think, one upon a time, maybe people didn't feel like they had to do "quick meals" and thus recipes took longer to make and more dishes. I'm trying to think that way in my cooking rather than, "How fast can I slap something edible on the table?" Undoubtly, we all have those days when slapping something to eat on the table is necessary, or all we have to give, but in general--at least these days, I am trying to go at my culinary adventures with a mind for flavor and learning to not rush through things (as well as thinking ahead). 

Of late, with the cold weather, I've kind of gotten fond of different varieties of meat-pies. Last night's was some version of Shepherd's Pie.

My ingredients were:

• Lamb--chunked up leftovers from Sunday's leg o'lamb
• Peas--frozen kind
• Onion--if you know me very well at all, you know I can't cook without onion!
• Carrots--peeled and chopped 
• Potatoes--I used canned since we didn't have any other kind 

​Spice-wise, I used salt, pepper, garlic (I think I ended up using both powdered and fresh), rosemary, oragano, and probably paprika (I think I forgot to write down everything)​. I ended up putting a splash of milk over the whole shibang.

This concoction then went into my pie shell.

"Hold it there a sec", you may say..."PIE SHELL?"

Heehehh. Oh yeah. PIE SHELL. I have created a non-wheat pie shell that actually WORKS like a pie shell (when cooked). It doesn't roll out at all really, so it's a nice pressy, messy job, but as this kid never minded getting her hands into her food...who cares?

The recipe (to be cut in half, doubled, tripled, etc. to your heart's content) is as follows.

• 1/2 c. Banana Flour
• 1/4 c. chopped Rolled Oats
• 1/4 c. Coconut Flour
• 1 stick butter
• a pinch of salt
• splash of water

As I typed that up, I realized I forgot the water last night. Oh well. I guess it didn't need it. (I also forgot the salt, but I realized that about the time I popped the pan in the oven.) Because our food processor (in which I usually make the dough) is broken, I finger mixed it, then did my usual press into the pan routine. The glass pan needs zero greasing (just like a regular pie). No pre-baking necessary.

I guess it took around thirty to forty minutes to bake. I wasn't watching the clock that close (sorry! I bake by smell and color to a degree). The shell turns a nice shade darker or so when it is cooked. As the filling was more or less ready to eat before it went in the oven, that wasn't a consideration at all.

It was probably that splash of milk--and no binding material (like flour) in the filling--that made it rather "fall apart-ish", but with a side of sour kraut, my Lamb and Veggie Pie was, to all perception, enjoyed by all....

I doubt this will ever come out tasting the same twice, but the general principle is fun to make and good to the taste. I've made several different versions of this...and one day, I will REALLY make mincemeat (how I originally got started on "meat pies"--a off the cuff mimic off mincemeat). 

And that, my dear reader, is the end of Episode One. It's about time for me to go work on supper...

Yesterday afternoon, I picked up my trumpet (y'all didn't know I had one did you? ;] ), inserted the mouthpiece, lifted it to my lips, and decided I'd had enough. The moldly flavor had gotten worse and I needed to do something about it STAT, so I put the instrument down, plopped down in front of my computer and I looked up "how to clean a trumpet". 

I've had this thing for over six years at this point (if I remember correctly which birthday I got it) and between year one and now, I never really learned how to play it (it sat abandoned in a closet for probably four years without being touched), much less take care of it (we'll make health excuses part of things). Anyway, I guess in my idiotic, not-knowing anything about brass instruments state (I grew up surrounded by strings, remember?), the idea that it might need to be cleaned never entered my head. (Seriously  though, all that spit that gets flung down-tube? Of course it's going to need to be cleaned!)

Now that I'm actually *trying* again to learn how to play it, I just couldn't get past that moldly taste yesterday...so this happened:

I didn't get around to putting it back together until this morning, when Katherine kindly took the re-assembly pictures (good thing too, because I ended up with slide and valve oil all over my hands).

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

January 

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

February

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

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

 March

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

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

April

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

May

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

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

June

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

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

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

July

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

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

August

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

September 

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

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

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

October

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

Also in October, I hit 26. 

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

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

November 

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

I did the first stages of winterizing by myself:

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

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

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

December 

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

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

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

Then of course...Christmas!

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

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

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

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

Happy New Year 2018!!

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

Alright, moving into the chronological telling of the tale. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Other random happenings included photos like the following:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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.