This is a quick post to say that I’m alive, and well.
No, nothing has happened. It’s just that end-of-the-school-year-everything-is-happening-at-once kind of craziness. You know the kind I’m talking about: you can’t keep track of where to deliver the cupcakes, and which color of shirt everyone needs to wear for Field Day, and who you are supposed to call about the fifth grade cookout, and when the meeting is about sixth grade orchestra, and how you are supposed to talk four unwilling cub scouts into performing a skit for the Primary talent show–let alone what you are going to fix for dinner, tonight.
I looked around the house last night–it was a DISASTER–and wondered, “Did I do any housework last week? This place is a pigsty!” I stood there, and thought about it. What, exactly, did I do last week? Memory has escaped me, all I can recall is lots of time in the car, the Kindy 500, and having to make a lot of phone calls. Oh, and I think I got one family reunion semi-planned. And prepared a Relief Society lesson. And taught the cub scouts how to handle basic cub scout emergencies: how to put out a burning marshmallow, how to put out the fire on your sleeve started by burning marshmallow another cub scout waved, how to tackle your friend and put out the fire on his sleeve that started when you elbowed him with your burning sleeve…..I try to be real with those boys.
So, I downloaded my camera, to see if pictorial evidence would nudge my memory. Hmm…it appears I did do some painting, too.
I’m still working on that sewing room….keep getting interrupted by children who need to go places. (Did I tell you that I think that Dr. Seuss book, Oh the Places You’ll Go, was written for mothers, not children?)
I also have pictures of what we did this weekend. The Bionic Man was hogging the camera, though, so mostly I have pictures of feats of engineering, nature’s majesty, and vintage weaponry. (I may have mentioned this before, but I’ll reiterate. The Bionic Man is an engineer. People are not the primary focus of his camera lens. If there are people in his photos, they are very small and standing next to feats of engineering, nature’s majesty, or vintage weaponry. I take shots of people. And cute baby animals. And flowers and butterflies and things I sew.)
We went to a nearby living history farm that was hosting Civil War Days.
The battle was very, very interesting to watch. And loud. The Bionic Man shot lots of video, so I don’t have any pics of the cavalry. The cavalry was my favorite part. Those horses were amazing.
Drilling on the street, hoping to attract recruits. (For real and for pretend.) See those two soldiers on the end of the front row? They are women.
One of the encampments. There were several groups of re-enactors who came to participate. It was fascinating to visit their camps, where they try to be as historically accurate as possible. You saw kids carrying buckets of water back to camp from the pumphouse, women in hoopskirts trying to cook over a fire or hold a squirming baby. Wow. Could I do everything I do all day in a hoopskirt?
Speaking of hoopskirts……I’m trying to talk the Bionic Man into signing on as a re-enactment solider, just so I have a good excuse to wear a hoopskirt.
Oh, look–I had a turn with the camera!
Yes, that is Justone looking as if he fits right in at the living history farm. (And that’s a really mangy donkey behind that fence in the first pic.) At this particular living history farm, child and adult visitors alike are welcome to dress up in their own historic garb. Little girls especially like to wear their “Laura Ingalls” dresses. It’s lots of fun. The Bionic Man got brave this time, and decided he’d dress up. Superkid decided she wanted to dress up, too.
Endeavor did not want to dress up, and did not want to be seen with anyone who was dressed up. Even if they were flesh and blood. Especially if they were flesh and blood.
And interesting phenomenon occurs in our house when Endeavor says she won’t do something. Justone wholeheartedly will do the very thing that Endeaver will not. (Is that messed up? Don’t tell me if it is. I’m able to have a sense of humor about it right now.) So, Justone went all out. Dressed to the frontier nines.
Well, since everyone but Endeavor was doing it, I couldn’t very well go without a period costume, could I? I’m all about dressing for the occasion. (Again, I must repeat that since my costume was not a feat of engineering wonder, I have no photographic record of this.)
Endeavor flipped. Apparently, she really is old enough for middle school. She flat out refused to go with us. Her family was completely off their collective rockers, and she was not going to be the object of stares, even if they were directed at her brother’s coonskin cap. To her surprise, we told her that was fine. She could stay home, take the dog out occasionally, and help our neighbor chase her toddler son around.
We missed her. But the rest of us had fun. Endeavor had fun, too. And I’m glad she did. I’m not too old to remember how mortified I was when my mom wore a silly hat she’d made to my third grade classroom. (It was silly on purpose, for the activity she was leading in the classroom.) I still cringe just thinking about it. I was convinced, at that moment, that my life was over.
At least Endeavor made it to the end of fifth grade before she felt mortified by her family. That right there is an accomplishment.