Unexpected Pleasure

Ruckersville hosts a modest Civil War Re-enactment the 3rd weekend of September. And I of course must work on that weekend, which is a serious bummer. The event is all of 4.6 miles from my house, I could bicycle there already. But I gots LUCKY ! Work needed to reschedule my time off next week and I of course agreed - agreed to go home early Friday night and stay home Saturday night. Huzzah !

So Saturday morning early I went & hung out with my 2nd Rhode Island Volunteer Co. F buddies. Then when it started to get unpleasantly warm, I headed home and painted house trim for a couple of hours. I could hear the cannon firing from my yard. Dinner rolled around, I put on a Garabaldi skirt & blouse & headed back to the CW doings. Ambled over to the Rebel horse camp, had a great dinner with the horsey guys, meandered back to the dance tent, danced a bit, then finished the night off with the night cannon firing. I had a fantastic time. Saw a whole bunch of friends & arranged to sell my Amrisport .58 Springfield. Sorry, no pictures. I was too busy having fun.

The End of Summer

Its official. Summer is over. I know, the weather is still warm, the woods still verdant green but summer is over. The fireflies have stopped rising, there have been no blinking little bugs in my neighborhood for a week. So summer is over. Much as I love fall (which really is my favorite season) I always feel a profound sadness when summer ends. It has been a good summer, I have been camping once a month at the Izaak Walton League in Lynchburg, attended 2 'Vous and ALBA, spent some time with my kid, seen Tina off to Japan, and gotten well along on the exterior house trim painting. It has been a good summer so I guess feeling a sorrow at its ending makes sense.

This is the late summer woods behind my home.

Going to the 'Vous

Belle Grove near Strasburg VA is primarily known as a Civil War battle site, but its got a neat pre-Civil War farmhouse and it happens to be were the Shenandoah Longrifles hold their rendezvous. So on Memorial Day and Labor Day weekends I'm usually camped at Belle Grove, cooking food over an open fire and wearing the height of fashion if one were the widow of Joe-the-Farmer and it just happened to be the mid 1700's. This year I got to the Grove mid-day Friday which means I missed the rain but still had the mud to contend with. So I carried my camp in from the treeline rather than risk getting my 2 wheel drive truck stuck in the mud and set up my lodge next to my friend Jane. My lodge being a 5 foot tall wedge tent with a 7x7 foot floor. Definitely on the cosy side but big enough to let me use a cot inside so I'm not sleeping right on the ground. Which is a good thing if the ground is rather squishy. Anyway now attired in shift, pocket, petticoat, sleeveless bodice and apron with my knife hanging from my belt I was ready for anything.

And at dark anything started - a rough table appeared hosting a keg of strange brew in which rum was a primary ingredient and it was surrounded by persons of the lower sorts. Rogues, scoundrels and pirates gathered there only to be joined with itinerant musicians and wenches of dubious reputation. I had stumbled into the Pirates Annual Court and they were about to choose their new Prince of Rogues. I sought to stay quietly in the shadows but fate had other tricks to play and the next thing I knew I found myself compelled to oversee the proceedings. Two women esteemed by the gathering were to judge the contenders, a "Mistress Smith" and "Mistress Jones", and I was to cast the deciding vote in case of a tie. I silently prayed no such tie would occur and in my best fish mongers voice called the gathering to a rough sort of order. Six seamen stood before the rum table, each one a mother's worst nightmare. The Mistress Smith and Jones were long in deciding as various bribes were offered by this rogue or that pirate but in the end a local ship captain was chosen with two other seamen named as his court. Cheers rang out and libations flowed as a company of musicians began to play. I of course joined the musicians and a good time was had by all at last.

A few folks watching the Frying Pan Toss

Saturday was just a day of visiting with friends and the camp dinner. The Shenandoah Longrifles camp potluck is usually very good but this year was unusually fine, the best ever of the 'Vous I've been to with this club. I as usual brought a gallon of fresh cider and then put the bottle of rum I won as a door prize at the Laid Back Affair on the libations table. Hardest bottle of Captain Morgan's Spiced Rum I've ever tried to give away, it took until late Sunday afternoon for it to be emptied. Why Is the Rum Not Gone ! I also sold the 12 quart footed Dutch oven, so I no longer need to haul it around to 'vous, it has a new happy home. That night the musicians were out in force with fiddle tunes at one lodge fire and singers at another. I stayed at the singers' fire and we sang until the wee hours. I was up early Sunday, spent more time socializing and then it was noon and time for me to head over the mountains and home. By Sunday night I had my clothes cleaned and gear put up. I'm as ready as I'll ever be for another work cycle.