"We Have Met the Enemy, and He is Us"

FORT STEVENS, 2013

I can't believe we left for Fort Stevens a week ago already.  It's been a really fast week.  What a weekend!  Both our clubs were there, Union and Confederate, and with friends in both camps, we were all really divided and did a lot of running back and forth.  And it's kind of strange, because even though all this is make-believe, we're still playing for two very different teams.

CORPORAL CLARENCE KIRKLAND

Our original plan was for Paddy to fight on Saturday and Sunday with the Yankees, and with Alabama on Monday.  But on Friday night, the Confederates found themselves short of leaders.  Rufus decided to fight the whole weekend as Archie, leaving us without a 2nd Sergeant.  Then Corporal Sammy hurt his leg, and with Danny moving into Rufus' position, that left the 15th with no Corporals!  So guess who got breveted Corporal for the weekend?!    Our own Clarence Kirkland, and though I'm her mom, I think she really deserved it with her total dedication to the unit.

The story of the mismatched stripes is that Clarence got one from a Corporal who lost his left arm, and the other from a Corporal who lost his right!  Below, the Corporal's totally defarbed dog tent.

The happy Corporal, who had trouble raising his voice enough to bark out orders, and was henceforth dubbed, "Corporal Cookie."

THE USUAL MORNING PHOTOS

Bethany cracks me up - always some hilarious pose!  And brother Garret is back - hurray!

Look!  Hailey's actually taller than Garret.

Morning line-up, Saturday.  "Okay guys.  It's time."

 "You put your left foot in, you put your left foot out..."

"And you turn yourself around..."

More morning line-up photos:  Willard's back!

Miss Sarah, with cookies.

 The Privates William Barry, Jr. and Sr.

Private Billings and friend.

Billings' mom - way too pretty for this army, don't you think?

Wilson and Johnny Reb!  Dang, I'm going to miss them over the winter.

Good Morning, Porrets.

More dancing on Sunday.

Cute camp mascot, the Captain's dog Ember.

Frederick.

Captain Brock.

Private Robert Douglas.  In camp.  More about that later...

Doug O'Dell, (father to Oliver/Rory/Olivia and Chris/Scarlet.)

"Officer in camp!"

Happy 35th Anniversary, Mr. & Mrs. Rounds.  We're delighted you're spending it with us!

Frederick and Chris spent much of the weekend playing Jacob's Ladder and Cat's Cradle.

The hand-slap game continues, even without Rufus.  :-(

Breveted 2nd Sergeant Danny.

Look!  I shrank Sam.  I laughed for ten minutes after taking this one!  (Monday morning sleep deprivation, no doubt...)

I made "essence of coffee" but forgot to try it.

Apropos of nothing, here are some carrots from our garden.  Pretty colors!

Monday morning hair farb.  I must have been really tired.

This one from Sunday's better. Karl complains that I don't post any pictures of myself.

Calvin's tired too.

Corporal Cookie conducts morning inspection.

Look how narrow the Alabama street is!  We were crammed in there.

Okay, so enough of the morning pictures.  On to the stories!

HAND-TO-HAND COMBAT: THE 15TH ALABAMA VS. THE 69TH NEW YORK

The big news is that we fought a hand-to hand combat with the 69th New York.  In order to have any contact, you have to have Battalion permission and rehearse first.  Sarah, who was on the field as our vivandiere, took pictures of the practice for me.

The Alabama line-up.

"We have met the enemy, and he is us."

The 15th Alabama.

Mikey and Danny - fierce fighters and a perfect match-up!

Watch your back, Danny!

Willard dispatches Archie.  Farby smile, brother.

Alabama goes into action.

ABSENT WITHOUT LEAVE

On Saturday afternoon, Mrs. Douglas came to me to report that her husband was AWOL, lounging around the VMI camp, where she was busy doing dishes and chasing around a herd of young boys.  I reported this to Captain Brock, who sent a detachment out to bring him back.  Private Douglas was discovered playing checkers with the children. 

He tried to claim that he was under orders from Captain Brock, attempting to recoup his loss of the Company's pay.  

By gambling with 6-year-olds.

Miss Hypatia looks on in delight.

The fellows rounded him up...

...and returned him to the Alabama camp.

Private Douglas tries to explain himself.

PRIVATE RORY'S EXECUTION

Playing both sides caught up with Union Private Rory (aka Oliver in Alabama.)  Garret captured him and tossed him over his shoulder to be hauled off for execution. 

Danny tied his feet.

Alabama can't let a weekend go by without a good execution!

The firing squad loads.

I pointed out to Captain Brock that he never orders an execution of his men.  He snorted,  "Not my own men, no."  He grinned.  "But this is a Yankee."

Dead Private Rory is too tragically adorable, don't you think?

The body was dumped in a ditch.  Hannah takes pity, but the soldier doesn't seem to mind.

OTHER RANDOM HAPPENINGS

Clarence escorts Jessica (Willard) and Hannah.

Corporal Clarence takes a passing jab at the bayonet drill station.

Card-playing in camp, tsk, tsk, tsk.

On Sunday morning, Alabama captured two units of Yankees (but lost the battle.)  Notice how their guns are tipped down, empty.

The annual Fort Stevens pirate parade!

 

Pirate Captain Stanovich, the Colonel of the Oregon Confederate army.

The Monitor.

Walking around, I spotted this cupboard.  I think I'd like one of these!

This little bird, who was dubbed "Phil," hung around all weekend, completely unafraid.

MONDAY'S BATTLE

On Monday, Alabama fought the actual hand-to-hand with the 69th.  The guys pulled it off splendidly!  Here's Captain Kyle leading his troops into battle.  I watched the battle from the stands.  After the battle, the guys could spot me by my secession apron with the big white star on it.  I saw Captain Kyle signal to me through the field glasses I bought at Gettysburg, which made me laugh.

Captain Brock leads the fellows in skipping merrily around the field.  (Snort!)

The hand-to-hand.   See the Captains with swords on the left, and Clarence has just been wounded by Rory in the middle.  Just to the right of Clarence, Willard is about to kill Archie.

Riley stepped in and killed Rory, who died a splendid death in full view of the audience.

But, unable to resist the temptation to continue fighting, he revived and rejoined his unit.

Captain Brock, Calvin Kirkland and William Barry, Jr., all dead.

The huge Union flags looked really splendid in the stiff breeze.

On Monday night we had a wonderful after-party with the Porrets, Sgt Newton and Polly, Donny, Kyle, Archie/Rufus, Toby (the retiring Colonel of the Washington Confederate Army),  and Kyle's parents.  We sat up talking under a starry sky.  The kids (including Donny and Kyle) went "Star Tripping."  Hannah:  "You look up at a star and spin around until you're super dizzy, and then someone you're with turns on a flashlight and you attempt to run toward the light and fall over.  And that's why it's called 'star tripping.'"

I tried making an Apple Charlotte in the dutch oven.  Apple Charlotte is a crust of buttered toast with apple pie filling.  Lots of butter, sugar and cinnamon.  What could go wrong?  

I started it Sunday afternoon, intending to bring it to the dessert social we held with the 69th, but it wasn't even ready to cook until we were leaving camp.  (No worries, I had a Mississippi cake and molasses pie that Hannah had baked to take over.)  So I left it until Monday night, and then tried to cook it...for 3 hours, at which point the toast was burnt and the apples still raw.  Finally, more than 27 hours after I began, it looked to be more or less done, so I put the pot lid on for just a few minutes to warm up the top.  The lid is one of those that has little bumps inside to catch the condensation and drip it back into the pot.  It did just that, leaving big black spots all over the Charlotte!  Disgusting.  Burnt toast, raw apples, no sugar or cinnamon in evidence - EPIC FAIL.  And my friends were kind enough to tell me just how appalling it was.  Sgt Newton just turned away saying, "No."  Emily Porret compared it to dog, um, leavings.  Yup.  It was gross.  This picture doesn't even do it justice.

But the weekend was a huge success.  I spent a lot of time with my new friends over in New York and learned more about sewing.  Hannah and I bought a lovely little book on making ribbon trims.  Calvin and I had a nice lunch date in New York on Sunday.  And we're back with the 69th in three weeks for another event!

A final shot of our view of the Columbia River from the event site.  Gorgeous!

Back to 1863: The Blessed Burden

Today we're up to our eyeballs in preparation for the biggest Civil War event of the season.  Well, okay, we did go to Gettysburg this year, which pretty much blows away anything on the west coast, but for us, Fort Stevens is the big one.  And both our units will be there, the 15th Alabama and the 69th New York, so we'll all be trotting between camps, hoping not to get shot at traitors by either camp!  Not only that, but Alabama has a ton of new recruits this weekend, so we'll all be busy training and welcoming, and in the midst of all that, Sgt Lawless will be in New York as Sgt Archie Napier for most of the weekend.

It's amazing to me that Laura Ingalls Wilder's family, and many others like them, managed to fit all their worldly good into a single wagon.  I could easily fill that wagon for just a three-day reenactment.  If only you could see my kitchen right now: crates, baskets, boxes, jars, two breadboxes, a big cooler, all loaded down with several iron pots, half a dozen lanterns, two wash basins, a bread board, a dish drainer, a full set of dishes, silverware, cups, two tables, five chairs, sleeping pads and bags, pillows.  Not to mention two guns, leathers, hats, trousers, a bunch of gowns, three hoop skirts, shawls, bonnets, boots, and a basketful of handkerchiefs, hair pins, gel, ribbons and other girly items.

While I was running thirteen miles this morning, the kids were packing and baking.  Hailey, our resident baker, has undertaken the monumental task of preparing bacon biscuits, pumpkin bread, lemon cake, peanut butter and shortbread cookies, Mississippi cake, molasses pie, and an orange sponge custard.  Wow - talk about "Do Hard Things!"  Claire and Brennan washed dishes, chopped vegetables, helped with baking and packed.

It's not entirely my fault that we require so much baggage.  Last year, the Captain asked if I'd be Company Cook, and fix dinners for those that want them.  Until the last event that generally meant doubling what I make for our family and cooking for maybe ten people.  But this weekend, I'll be making dinners for three nights for more than twenty people each night!  At the last event, my big dutch oven was overflowing with jambalaya and we devoured every bite.  I also found myself scrounging desperately for mixing bowls and serving dishes.  So this week I went shopping!  Hailey and I had a blast antiquing, and came away with some great additions to our gear: another cast iron pot, two big ceramic mixing bowls and two metal platters, plus a cute potato masher with a green-painted handle.

Laden down, but in delightful anticipation, we leave this century at first light tomorrow, not to return until Tuesday.  Huzzah!

Perseverance

I was going to tell you that the British pronounce "perseverance" per-SEV-rance.  Only it turns out they don't.  I thought they did, and I'm not sure where I might have heard that, but I think it would be cute if they said it that way.

Long-distance running is a good lesson in perSEVrance, because you never get to the good part if you don't stick with it.  For me, running only really gets fun at a longer distance.  I posted earlier about how the first mile or so of a run is always what I call "corset time," where I can't breathe and I wonder why on earth I would take to my heels with no one chasing me.  So if you're only running 3 miles at a time, you're only just beginning to enjoy yourself when the run is over.

If you keep going though, you get that lovely sense of floating where you feel like you could cruise along for miles without stopping.  And that feeling makes the whole sweaty business worthwhile.  Well, that and the guilt-free milkshakes.

But there's more to be learned about perseverance from running.  I have found that a run can change tremendously from mile to mile.  What feels awful at one point can suddenly become the greatest run you've ever taken.  Sometimes I'll be slogging along, maybe a little bored, my legs feeling kind of heavy, and then a great song will come on, or a lovely view will appear, or I'll hit a downhill stretch, and just like that, everything changes and I'll find myself charging down the trail, feeling strong and happy and full of life.  That moment is so worth hanging in there for!

Life works that way too, doesn't it?  Sometimes the smallest thing, like a thoughtless comment, a cloudy sky, or a change of plans can affect your whole outlook, and I don't know about you, but that can make me view my whole life differently until I'm in a downward spiral of negativity for no real reason.  But that floating feeling is always just around the next corner.

I get a great sense of accomplishment from running.  It's hard!  But hard is good.  My girls read a book a few years ago that I really liked, called Do Hard Things: A Teenage Rebellion Against Low Expectations, by Alex and Brett Harris.  The book suggests that the teenage years shouldn't be a final blowout of childhood immaturity (think Miley Cyrus), but instead can be a time of challenge and growth, and preparation for a really great adult life.  "Do Hard Things" is a great motto, but not just for teens!  I love the idea of doing hard things and challenging myself, even if it means returning home filthy, sweat-soaked and starving.  Or diving into a pit of icy mud.

Muds to Suds Race 2013

The "Before" picture - before the mud, the suds, the sawdust, the yelling soldiers, the painful crawling tubes, the deep sand, the high walls, and the other thing too horrible to mention yet.

At the starting line.

First we ran through deep sand along the river's edge.  Then came the first mud pit - not too bad, I didn't get wet apart from my legs.  The weather was cool and cloudy, so I wasn't too keen on running the whole race soaking wet.  

Karl in the first mud pit.

This was pretty far into the race.  I'm soaking wet, and I can't believe I'm smiling after the thing.

Once you're soaking wet, they cover you in sawdust.  I crawled daintily through this, and then did a face plant at the end just so I wouldn't look bad.  Or good, I guess.

This wall was really high!  But it was easy to climb, and no big deal after the thing that came before.

The suds box was really fun!  I went through just after they had reloaded, and the suds were nearly over my head.  There were at least four nets in the box we had to crawl under, so no avoiding the suds.

Sudsy Karl.

We rang the finish bell together.  I stayed ahead of Karl on the running stretches, but he caught up at the obstacles.

So I'm running along, over halfway through the race and finally hitting my groove after the initial sand pit that kind of kicked my butt, when one of the sadistic race volunteers calls out, "Hey!  Are you ready for the ice pit?!"  Say what?  Ice pit?  ICE PIT!?!  

Yep, a pit of icy mud, with a soldier standing beside it.  He sneers at me, "You can't handle this."  Although I can't imagine what on earth would ever possess me to dive willingly into a pit of ice water, nothing, absolutely nothing, motivates me like being told I can't do something.  "Yes I can!"  I yell back.  "You won't make it," he says, grinning.  "Oh yes I will!" I shout, diving gleefully into the icy depths.  Oh my gosh.  I gasped, I choked, and I seriously wasn't sure if I'd make it out the other side before my whole body went numb.  But I did, and then tingled all the way to the next obstacle.

The "After" photo - after 2 long sand pits, a gnarly web climbing wall and a long spiderweb of ropes, a tire course, a stack of hay bales, two high wooden climbing walls, one with knotted rope to pull up by that made me feel like Private Benjamin, two long plastic tubes that were hell on my knees until I figured out how to scootch through on my backside, a whole row of high hurdles, several sets of back-to-back mud pits that left me staggering around unable to see, and a pit of ice water.  

The "After" photo:

Some of our friends ran too.

Look at the tidy princess.  Her face isn't even dirty!

The showers.  They weren't warm.  And where were the firemen we were promised?!

See these socks?  They're actually white.  Or they were.

We ate free hot dogs that were really good, and root beer floats.  Now we're home again, clean and back to normal, more or less.  

I love Private Benjamin:

The Long Winter?

A friend of mine posted on Facebook the other day a picture of a waist-high ants' nest near his work.  In the comments below, someone noted that we may be in for a hard winter.  That caught my attention, because I swear the numerous geese around here are fleeing in droves!  Now I'm curious: are we in for a cold or snowy winter?

I am reminded of the beginning chapters of Laura Ingalls Wilder's The Long Winter, in which Laura and her family observe many signs in nature of the approaching record-breaking winter of 1880-81.  When I read The Long Winter as a child, I thought it was the most boring book in the series, but re-reading it as an adult is absolutely chilling, (pardon the pun.)  The family is starving and only keeps warm enough by huddling right up next to the stove.  It sounds like they had no insulation apart from boards!  I'll bet they wished for their old home in the creek bank!  And I have to wonder: didn't they see it coming?

Feeling curious, I looked up predictions for our coming winter.  Here's what Farmer's Almanac says for our area:

Annual Weather Summary: November 2013 to October 2014

Winter will be much snowier than normal, with frequent snows from mid-December through the first three weeks of January. Rainfall will be near normal, with temperatures below normal, on average, in the north and above in the south. The coldest periods will occur in mid- to late December, early to mid-January, and mid- to late January.  From: http://www.almanac.com/weather/longrange/WA/Everett

Hmm.  Sounds like we might not make it back to California for Christmas, but at least we won't be holed up twisting hay for fuel and sipping bean broth!

I looked up signs of winter.  Strangely, I found them listed as "folklore."  But I thought it was widely understood that nature could predict severe weather?  It makes sense to me, although I'm sure there are plenty of myths sprinkled in with true signs.  Here are some signs I found of harsh winter weather approaching:

Apparently black and brown woolly caterpillars show narrower bands of brown if winter is going to be cold.

Animals' fur gets thicker.  Duh.  That can't be an old wives' tale.

Squirrels and birds stock up.  

Acorns have thicker shells.  Does anyone have an oak tree nearby to check this?  One thing I really miss about leaving California is the stately, gnarled old oak trees.

Bees nest higher in trees.

Early bird migration.  Check.  I'm seeing that one!

Increased rodent activity in your house.  Eww.

Bigger pine cones and thicker corn husks, because, of course, the corn needs to save a few seeds from the hungry critters to re-seed in spring.

And Laura's Pa observed that beavers and muskrats make thicker lodges.

(From: http://webecoist.momtastic.com/2012/11/02/signs-of-winter-weather-14-folklore-predictions/)

Has anyone observed any of this around here?

 

Not All Good Fun is Clean

We're getting down and dirty around here!  Check out what Karl and I are doing this weekend.

2.5 miles, 22 obstacles, lots of mud!

Um, wait a minute.  Is that fire?  Do we have to jump over fire?!  It's supposed to be a mud race!

Here's the info:  Muds to Suds

And here's the Course Map

I can't wait!  :-)