Day 5—8 May 2—5 2018

     I find it very hard to spend my time at the state park where the concert is being held, then come back to the bus exhausted and try to type out pearly words of learning and/or entertaining.  So, I’ve missed a few days of blogging, but I’ve thoroughly enjoyed the entertainment.  Tonight is the last one until next Thursday.

     Since this is the last night, we won’t be in the state park any more.  But I’d like to tell you some of the history of the man and his courageous wife who settled in this area a long time ago.

           As I’ve mentioned, the festival is held in Elijah Clarke State Park in Lincoln County, Georgia.  Besides being a beautiful 474-acre state park located on the J. Strom Thurmond Lake, it is also a memorial to Elijah Clarke.  He was born in 1742 in Anson County, North Carolina.

Elijah Clark (1742-1799)

In 1773, this area belonged to the Creeks and Cherokee Indian nations.  After 1773, a treaty was signed with Europe.  Elijah Clarke and forty other families settled in the area.  He was a frontiersman, a Continental Army Officer and Revolutionary War hero.

After the war, Clarke was elected to the Georgia legislature.  In 1794, he organized the Trans-Oconee Republic, several settlements in counties of Georgia in the traditional Creek Territory.  From there he attacked several Creek villages, but was restrained by the Georgia government.

 

Clarke's Home inside the park

Houses built with dog-trot construction (a central open hallway divides the rooms of the house) were common during this time.  A newly renovated log cabin displays furniture and tools dating back to 1780.  The house had four rooms.  Two of the front rooms were paneled in maple, which was unusual for the time.  Windows were barred and also had shutters for even more protection.  Gun ports were in every room through the outside walls.  Because it was hostile territory, Clarke knew he had to protect his family.  He also used the central hallway to house cows and horses by stretching rope across each end to keep them safe.  The cabin was known as Clarke’s Fort. 

In the house, their beds had ropes under mattresses drawn tight in place of springs we have today.  The ropes were kept tight for comfortable sleep.  That is where the expression “sleep tight” came from.  If someone over-stayed their welcome, Hannah would loosen the ropes to make for uncomfortable sleeping so the company would leave. The mattresses were made from hay.  Expression “hit the hay” came from this.

The kitchen is in a separate house.  Hannah believed a real lady cooked inside and not over a campfire.  Breakfast would be corn meal mush, apple cider.  Lunch was usually a stew made from whatever meat the men killed.  Last meal of the day would be cold leftovers.

 Clarke’s wife, Hannah, was a Virginia lady, who followed her husband into the frontier.  She made all their clothes.  It was important to her that each of her eight children have two complete sets of clothing—one to wear, one to wash.  On a loom, she produced linen for two shirts for Elijah, which she was very proud of.  When the Tories started over running the settlements, she hid the linen shirts under the smoke house floor.  When they got to their home, the Tories asked the kids where all their treasures were hidden.  They led them to the shirts.

Hannah helped fight in several Indian attacks.  Once, when Elijah was gone, the Tories took over their home and burned it.  Hannah escaped with all eight kids.

Elija and Hannah Clarke's grave marker

         Elijah Clarke died on December 15, 1799.   He and his actions served as one of the sources for the fictional character of Benjamin Martin in The Patriot (a 2000 Mel Gibson film).

The park is also the site of the graves of Elijah and Hannah Clarke.  I think Elijah and Hannah Clark were brave settlers.

Until next time,

             Dolores

Day 4--May 1, 2018

     During the many years we have been lucky enough to travel, we enjoy finding out-of-the-way places to visit.  Usually, we get into a campground, eat, then go for a ride in whatever direction looks the most interesting.

     Everyone around the Lewis Family Home Place and Elijah Clark State Park is very busy preparing for two big events two weekends in a row. So, while we are in the true working stage of the events, I thought I'd tell you about a few places we have visited.

     Did you know that the Smithsonian Institued has a Tick Museum in Statesboro, Georgia? Most people don't, but stick with me, I'll show you the whole United States.

     The World's largest tick collection is only open for one hour every Wednesday or by appointment. You will see the largest and smallest they have in bottles.  They have a machine that freeze dries the ticks and coats them with gold for better viewing under the high powered microscopes.

     The museum workers have put together +one of the largest curated tick collections in the World.  There is over 125,000 accessioned lots, over one million specimens, their associated data, and an extensive library (reprints, monographs, and books). The collection contains specimens from all continents, most of the approximately 860 known species of ticks, and a quarter of the primary tick types. It belongs to the U.S. National Museum of Natural History (Smithsonian Institution) and has been open since 1990.

Tick Tock Tick Tock

     Let me know if you've ever visited the tick museum.  I'd love to hear your comments.

Later,
Dolores

Day 3 April 30, 2018

     I know everyone has heard the phrase “Be careful what you wish for.” Well, today, that truly came back to bite me in the posterior.  When we arrived in Lincolnton, I felt at peace with the beautiful surroundings here at the Lewis Family Home Place. I prayed for just a day with no problems and turmoil.

     Well, when I got up, we had no phone or internet service.  We soon found out it wasn’t just us, but the whole county. So without my lifelines, I lay back down and went to sleep.  I got up every hour and checked—No phone or internet service.  It was scary.  It was at that time I realized how my grandkids feel when I make them put their phones away and communicate with those around them.  I looked around, and there was no one to communicate with.  So back to bed.

     By the early evening, when we were reconnected to the outside world, I had given my inside eyelids a good inspection.  All is well there.

     Jeff and Sheri Easter and Bonnie and Little Roy Lewis came by the bus for a visit.  They are a hoot.  I love to hear their stories.  Jeff brought Richard a cap. The back of it says “If you don’t know me, you aren’t from around here.” Richard never meets a stranger and even here in Lincolnton, if you need something or need something fixed, he is the one to see unless it is to catch a snake.  Lizzy is the one to call for that.  She is the local snake wrangler.

      Quick story:  The other night when I was singing Richard's praises, my dear friend, Vickie King read the part of him taking the tractor out and cutting the grass.  She said she was impressed with that, but what really impressed her was that Richard carried his tractor with him.  Where does he store it, in one of the bins under the bus?  I haven't laughed that hard in a long time.  Tears and choking pretty much took over.  Finally, I was able to explain that it was Jeff's tractor parked under the pavilion.  My fun for the day. LMBO

     I’ll be back on schedule tonight. Hope you all have a good day.

Later,

Dolores 

Day 2—April 29, 2018

     I’ve been writing these travel blogs for many years.  Long before Facebook was even thought of.  I’ve also used Richard as my go-to person to poke fun at.  Those of you who have known us our entire life together know I love him and wouldn’t trade him for a million dollars, but wouldn’t give you a quarter for another one just like him.  Most of the stuff I write about him is true, just embellished slightly.

     A new friend emailed me today to ask if it hurts Richard’s feelings when I write about him.  (Note:  I can picture a few of our old friends rolling on the floor, laughing their butts off or for you FB people ROTFLTBO.) After 43 years of marriage, I know what I can write about him.  But here is the thing—No one will ever know if it hurt his feelings because he has never read even one of my blogs.

     But this cool, beautiful Sunday is one day I won’t be picking at Richard.  Not with everything he has done today.  He started the day off by going to the Huddle House to get me breakfast.  He came back and fixed his own breakfast while I ate. He is very picky about his breakfast.

     He got out the tractor, cut some grass, then leveled some ground around our bus site.  I helped him get the bus parked in the perfect spot. While I did housecleaning, my precious husband went back to the Wall to get one more picture for me to use in this blog. He hurried back to get a couple of campers parked in their reserved sites. He built a small wooden porch outside the door of the bus to make it easier for me and others to go in and out.  Took me to the pizza place for supper, and then we visited with several friends who knew we are here.  Great friends, crisp air, and beautiful moonlight made it a perfect evening.

     Then Richard began to lock up the bus. The entrance door lock broke.  The electric window shades wouldn’t work on the right side of the bus.  (Note: Yes, David, you heard me right. A shade quit working.  Film at 11.)  All that was okay because Richard is Mr. Fit-It.  He’ll take care of those two things in the morning. Wonder how early the shops in Lincolnton open?  I need to go.

     Then Richard, who had done so well all day long, spoke the six words that always send terror through my body.  I’M GOING TO USE THE COMPUTER.

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            I’d like to end today with a few statistics about The Wall That Heals. The three-quarters scale Wall replica is 375 feet in length and stands 7.5 feet high at the tallest point.

58,318 Names on the Wall                   1,500+Service Members Unaccounted For From the War

8 Women on the Wall                           600 Cities Visited By the Wall That Heals

31 Sets of Brothers on the Wall            3 Sets of Fathers and Sons on the Wall

              246 Most Casualty Deaths for one day/January 31, 1968

Marvin Gude King High School Class of '67

      This Thursday night, Dailey and Vincent (one of my favorite bluegrass bands) will be performing at  the Little Roy Lewis and Lizzy Long festival at Elijah Clark State Park. They sing one of my favorite and most touching song ever with Jimmy Fortune.  Here is a link if you have time to listen:  https://bit.ly/2r7eWB0

Until later,

Dolores

Day 1—April 28, 2018

     Hi everyone.  I hope you had a wonderful Saturday. The trip from home to Lincolnton, Georgia was great.  The country roads were lined with wildflowers.  The sky was almost solid blue.  Only a few puffy clouds. Of course, with my imagination, the few clouds floating above had shapes in them. One looked like Snoopy asleep on his doghouse. Another was a bear claw—the animal type, not the delicious, crusty, sweet pastry.  But I digress.

     Now that it is time to write about the day, I couldn’t decide what to write about.  What I saw? Who I saw? What I was thinking? Where did I hide the body?

     Speaking of Richard. He has been wound tighter than the shoes I bought online from Japan.  Those ladies have small feet. Okay, maybe my feet aren’t as dainty as theirs.  And the shoes were sooo cute. They had little yellow ducks on them.  I wanted to wear them when my sister (who is going with us to Canada) wore hers with flamingos on them. Hey, we are West Virginians, raised in Tampa, and King High graduates.  Let it go.

     Okay, back to Richard.  I’m hoping he comes down to the solid ground, gets some rest, and has some fun for a change. If he doesn’t, and my kids receive a large UPS box, please tell them to open it immediately, because they will only let me put 1 bottle of Zephyrhills water and 2 packages of peanut butter crackers in the box. If that happens, I will have to hire someone to drive the bus for me.  My only requirements are they must be over 18, can drive a bus, and that HE speaks English. 

)()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()

     Okay, I want to at least touch on a serious subject. Tomorrow I'll write more about it. When we arrived in Lincolnton after dark tonight, Bonnie and Little Roy Lewis picked us up and took us to the movable Vietnam Veterans Memorial Replica.  It is quite a site lit with bright lights, backed by the darkness of night and a huge bright moon.

     As I touched some of the names, chills crawled over my entire body. Sadness came as I remembered each of the boys I graduated with whose name is forever engraved on the wall.  We took pictures of two of them.  It takes quite a while to look them up and then go find them.  I’m going back tomorrow to find a few more I know of.  If there is anyone you’d like me to look up, let me know before noon tomorrow at the comment section at the bottom of this post or go back to Facebook.

Let me hear from you whenever you can.  Writing these posts is fun for me, but knowing there are people reading them is even funner. All my writer and teacher friends, I know that isn’t a real word, but it’s my word. 

The Wall That Heals

Greg Denton

Allen Mooney

Later,

Dolores

June 1, 2016
Dawson Creek, British Columbia
Mile 0 Alaskan Highway
June 2, 2016
Ft. Nelson, British Columbia
June 3, 2016
Watson Lake, Yukon Territory

June 4, 2016
Whitehorse, Yukon Territory
(I still haven't found Sgt. Preston)
Hey there, it's me again.
     When Richard and I first came to Alaska in 1997, the roads were mostly gravel, with construction around every corner.  Dust filled the air when an inconsiderate driver would speed by us, not even bothering to slow down, and add more grease and grime to the vehicles trying to avoid them.  The last time (2013) the roads were wonderful. 
     This time it is 1997 all over again.  I hate to see the bus so dirty that you can't even see the color.  Not so much for me, but Richard's OCD kicks in and darn if he isn't a little testy to live with.  Don't forget we are in a moving vehicle (40'X8') with no where to run and no where to hide.  And, yes, for those who don't know Richard (my husband of over 42 years) he does suffer from OCD, or as I call it SCS (Sheldon Cooper Syndrome). 
     Two things people ask me about our bus is "Do you help wash it?" and "Do you drive it?" Well, no, I don't help wash it.  As for driving the bus, no, I just hold onto the steering wheel and Richard drives from the passenger's seat.  :-)

Along Our Way

     After we left Lincolnton, we made a beeline for Independence, Missouri, to meet up with Jack and Jeannie Dickson, my BFF, extraordinaire.

     Along the way, we stopped at a rest area to have lunch and discovered we were right on the shore of Nickajack Lake.  I’m sure you’ve seen it many times, Lizzy Long, but here’s a picture, just in case.

Nickajack Lake, Tennessee

     We and the Dickson’s arrived at the campground just moments apart.

     Last summer, when Richard and I took three of the grandsons to Key West, I became very interested in our 33^rd President of the United States.  Harry S. Truman spent a lot of his time at the Little White house in Key West.  Other presidents had too, but it has been left just like it was when Truman was in office.

     Since Harry S. Truman’s real home is in Independence, I couldn’t wait to tour it and see if I could pick out the difference in the two places.  The Little White House in the Keys was tropical, light greens, palms. Although, some of the furnishings would appeal to a woman, the poker room was definitely masculine. The Truman Home in Independence was done with mostly dark, polished woods and Victorian décor, which I love.

     The house was built by Bess Wallace Truman's maternal grandfather.  George Porterfield Gates, built the house over a period of years from 1867 to 1885.  After Bess’s father committed suicide, she and her mother and brothers moved in with her grandparents. From the time of their marriage on June 28, 1919, until Harry’s death on December 26, 1972, he and Bess lived in the house.  I was fascinated with the house especially the over-sized piano they had given to their only child Margaret. I think the tour guide said for her eighth birthday.  Margaret was disappointed because she wanted a pony. 

     In the kitchen was a small table placed against the wall, where Harry and Bess sat across from each other to eat breakfast and read one of the many newspapers he would read every day.  On the wallpapered wall, not too far above the table, a lamp, with an on/off chain hanging from it, was mounted.  Right below the lamp, the wallpaper was worn away where Harry would turn the light on to better see his newspapers. I don’t know why that stuck with me so much.  Blame it on the paste.

     We stayed in Independence for about 3 days.  Then we found out there was a heavy metal music fest coming to town over the weekend, expecting 30,000 people.  I used core math I had learned from my grandkids to see how throwing four senior citizens into that mix would affect cantaloupe crops in Guatemala. Using what I could remember of the core math formula, I took a sheet of plain paper and drew all 30,000 boxes, plus three cantaloupe and two stick men and two stick women who looked like members of the ratchet people to explain my calculations.  Within minutes, we packed up and left town, leaving skid marks on the pavement.  Not really sure what happened to the cantaloupes. I’ll leave that for the geniuses who developed the Core system.  LOL

     Before we fled Independence, we visited two other places I’d like to tell you about, but I’m tired and a little punchy, so, I’m going to post this puppy.  Tomorrow night, I’ll tell you about the other two places I really enjoyed.

BTW, do you know what the “S” in Harry S. Truman’s name stood for?

Until later,

Dolores

May 28, 2016

Nanton, Alberta, Canada

 

     WELL, we made it across the Canadian border and didn’t have to be searched.  Yay! Anyone not familiar with the story of Richard and I crossing the Canadian border at Niagara Falls a few years ago, please click on the following link:   http://bit.ly/1U1xw5K

     I think I may finally be able to blog about our journey.  Believe me, I have a lot to write about, but have been having too much fun to blog at the end of the day.  Since we have made this trip four previous times, and I wrote about each day of those trips, it is hard to find new things to write about, but maybe I have made a little head way. 

     This week has been a little sad for me, my sister and my kids.  My dad passed away on the 22^nd of May, my niece Crissy, passed away on May 24, 2013 and we buried her on the same date our mother had passed away May 28, a few years before.

     On a happier note, today is Howard’s birthday (Richard’s brother who is 12 years older than him).

     Let me take care of a little business here, and I’ll be good to go.  I’d like to ask that each of you share my posts with the links to my blog.  I have a project in mind, and I’d like to reach as many readers as possible with my blog.  Also, LIKE when possible and, if you don’t mind, leave me comments.  I’d love to know who is following me.  Hopefully, I might be reminded of a snippet or story, which I can use in my blog.

     Having said that, JACK AND JEANNIE DICKSON, we just passed the antique store in Nanton, Alberta where the owner said he loved Earl Scruggs and I told him he had just spent the weekend at my house. Richard printed out a picture of me and Earl in my dining room.  Somehow the man found out I was a published author, so he had me sign the picture.  Before we left he had it framed and hanging behind the cash register.  Richard stopped the bus and went to look in the window of the shop to see if it was still hanging there.  It was closed and he couldn’t see inside.  Oh well, I bet it is still hanging in there somewhere.  J

ALONG OUR WAY

     As I post every day, I’ll be telling you where we are that day, but I’d also like to catch up on some of the people, places and things we have done to this point.

     Every year, Richard and I go to Lincolnton, Georgia for two events we enjoy very much.  We get there a few days before the Little Roy Lewis and Lizzy Long Bluegrass Festival.  Richard does what he can to help get ready for the festival, which starts Thursday.  As usual, we had so much fun seeing old friends and making new ones. 

                 

Old Friends Bill and Shelley Huckaby

     The following week (always Mother’s Day weekend) Jeff and Sheri Easter host a gospel sing at the Lewis Family Home Place.  Richard has helped them build the RV park which is now open for reservations.

Lizzy Long and you can see
 Little Roy to right

The man with the bib overhaul
is one of Little Roy's Brothers,
Talmadge Lewis  from Augusta
On the right in the plaid shirt, is Jeff's Uncle
Russell Easter.  He, along with Jeff's dad, James,
and their other brother Edd formed the long-standing group
The Easter Brothers.

Here's Jeff Easter on the stage
He and Sheri are such a cute couple

     Every year, Peggy Faucett, from Hawkinsville, Georgia, cooks every night of the festival for the entertainers and volunteers at the festival to eat at Jeff and Sheri’s home after the concert.  Peggy is phenomenal.  She lays out a different, several-item buffet for all three nights.  Shortly before the show is over for the night, she and I sneak off and go back to Sheri’s house and get all the food warmed and ready to serve.  
     Other than eating Peggy’s wonderful, culinary delights, I love meeting the entertainers and other interesting people who come to eat.  This year I met the Nelons.  A beautiful mother, her husband, and two daughters with perfect voices.   

Kellie Nelon, Peggy Faucett, Amber and Autumn
at Jeff and Sheri's house.

     While we are on the subject of Peggy, I’m so very proud of her.  She has lost about 127 pounds and, as she says, she’s half the woman she used to be. I have to control myself not to smack her.  LOL 
     This year I met a lady I won’t soon forget.  When Anne Beiler was introduced to me as the lady who founded Aunt Anne’s Soft Pretzels, I told her she was responsible for the size of my right thigh.  She said something along the lines that most people blamed her for their whole body.  I told her no, that my left thigh belonged to Krispy Kreme.

Me and Auntie Anne's Soft Pretzels
Founder Anne Beiler

     Over the next couple of days, I discovered she was an author.  She’d written the story of her life and how, after an unthinkable tragedy, Anne went from an Amish wife and mother, making soft pretzels in the local Amish market to building a business of near 1,000 franchises of Aunt Anne’s Soft Pretzels.  Her book, TWIST OF FAITH, is available at Amazon.com. If you get a chance, read it.  You will never forget it.     One quick added note, while working alongside Anne during her years of building her pretzel business, her husband worked as a counselor providing free services for troubled marriages and teenagers and others.  He later was the first grief counselor to arrive on the scene of the Amish School shooting, which took place five miles from their home.  He has written a book about the event, which is on top of my TBR pile. Jonah Beiler's book, THINK NO EVIL, is also available at Amazon.com.
     Okay, let's hope I'm back in the Internet business.  Don't forget to LIKE, SHARE and leave me a comment.

Until later,
Dolores