Tuesday, December 18, 2012

A Kick Back Day

And for some reason, relaxing despite the craziness in this world. After my flute lesson this morning, hubby and I had lunch at the house. A simple meal consisting of a lunch meat sandwich, baked chips, and decaf iced tea. It was actually filling.

After lunch, I washed the dog. He has a weird disease that resulted in substantial hair loss. In addition to a bald neck, he has clumps of hair missing on his back and he walks around mooning the world. If I don't bath him with Safeguard once a week, he licks his paws and scratches off more. According to several vets, they may or may not be able to diagnose the problem with the aid of expensive bloodwork. Umm, no.

Earlier that morning, I did a bit of reading. I'm currently reading John Lawson's A New Voyage to Carolina, written sometime after his visit to the colonies in 1700. It's quite engaging, and provides an insightful and fascinating glimpse of the Carolinas during that time. I'm at the early stage of his journey, and have walked with him through savannas, creeks, and meals with various Indian nations. A few excerpts I posted on Facebook earlier today:
...the Indians never setting forward 'till the Sun is an Hour or two high, and hath exhall'd the Dew from the Earth.
We saw at the Cassetta's Cabin the strangest Spectacle of Antiquity I ever knew, it being an old Indian Squah, that, had I been to have guess'd at her Age by her Aspect, old Parr's Head (the Welch Methusalem) was a Face in Swadling-Clouts to hers.

Her Skin hung in Reaves like a Bag of Tripe. By a fair Computation, one might have justly thought it would have contain'd three such Carcasses as hers then was. She had one of her Hands contracted by some Accident in the Fire, they sleeping always by it, and often fall into sad Disasters, especially in their drunken Moods.

I made the strictest Enquiry that was possible, and by what I could gather, she was considerably above 100 Years old, notwithstanding she smoak'd Tobacco, and eat her Victuals, to all Appearance, as heartily as one of 18.
That man had a way with words.

Later, I watched a two episodes of Civil War Journal. One featuring George McClellan, the Union's most useless general (I'm a Grant snob myself) and one the 54th Massachusetts brigade, the first African American unit, and their attack on Fort Wagner, both of which are featured in Peter Leavell's debut release, Gideon's Call.

It's dinnertime, and I have grits simmering in chicken broth. Time to make the kielbasa. Wherever you are, have a great evening!

Flowers on my coffee table


kathyinozarks said...

beautiful story-I was thinking about her last week-and realized I had not kept up with your posts about her. so glad she is a safe place now.
thanks for the link-I am still learning about the civil war-cold here still in the ozarks

Kimberli Buffaloe said...

Thanks, Kathy. Gracie has come such a long, long way. Just this past week, she began entering rooms she previously avoided because of their unfamiliarity, and a few days ago, I found her--for the first time--standing beneath our high-top dining room table. A few minutes later, she was sitting beneath my chair. I can't believe a formerly-abused, senior dog continues to learn and to grow!

Best wishes on your efforts to learn about the war. It was so complex, it's very difficult to figure out the whys. While I appreciated Peter writing Gideon's Call and for drawing attention to the slaves plight on St. Helena's Island, I disagreed with his presumption that slavery started the war and ending slavery would end it. (Also echoed in the movie Lincoln.) I once believed that as well, but after spending years studying the conflict from the southern perspective--and Grant's memoir--I finally realized that while slavery was at the heart of the division, the fight for rights was the cause of the actual battles. To understand how, one need only watch Ken Burn's excellent Civil War and The Civil War Journal or pay attention to current events.