Blast from the Past

(Picture from January of 1999)



This week, while cleaning out some cabinets, I ran across the journals I kept when the kids were younger. I thought it would be fun to remember/share these tidbits periodically. Unfortunately, I can't find all of them. I wrote in them sporadically at best, and if I had it to do over I would make myself sit down and write something every day - if only a sentence. I really, really wish I had.

This one is from January, 1999 (Ant almost 4, and Al almost 2).

"Alex has learned how to pull Anthony's chain. She takes things from him and runs to me crying like he's hurting her - and he usually gets in trouble. Now that we're figuring this out, hopefully he won't get bullied by his younger sister quite so much. We have spent so much time teaching him to be "easy with the baby" he just lets her take his toys and, if after a cursory attempt to get it back fails, he just moves on to something else. We have told him it's okay to NOT let her take his toys from him. And he's learning. Boy, is he learning."

So, at almost 4 years old is when we gave him permission to fight back - and they're still fighting.

The Time Traveler

This weekend Anthony was the time traveler. He went back about 150 years and joined the Confederate States of America Army of Tennessee. They were in Blountville, Tennessee, which is a beautiful, very old town. After a little research, Tony found out that his great great grandfather had done Civil War battle time in this town, not with the same Division Anthonywas with, but it was on the same street.

This was all very new to us. Anthony and I had met a few Divisions when we were at Cumberland Gap in the Spring and after talking with them, we decided this was the group that would be the best fit for Anthony. Our dilemma? He's 15. We (Tony and I) are not joining the CSA reenactment scene. And Anthony is. Not us. Him. Alone. He's 15. And they stay the whole weekend. And he's ONLY 15.

Tony took him on Friday night and since I was the only one who had met this group at Cumberland Gap, it was his turn to size them up. He is a great judge of character, much better than I seem to be of late. Once he met them, he came to the same conclusion as I, and decided to leave him in the encampment. Instead of driving the two hours home, though, he got a hotel room so that he would be close in case Anthony needed him. He would decide on Saturday if he could come home on Saturday night or if he needed to stay in the hotel again. Needless to say, Anthony was in a good group and had a great experience. Tony watched the demonstrations on Saturday and the battle on Saturday afternoon, then came on home. After all, he is 15.

Here is his tent. He had a tent all to himself. All modern supplies have to be out of sight, so he covered his cooler with a burlap sack. The cooler full of drinks was a must since it was in the 90's and their uniform pants and jacket are wool.

Tony and I returned on Sunday morning. We got there just in time to attend the church service. The chaplain preached the service just as if it was the morning before a battle and prayed for the soldiers' wisdom and safety. He talked about the "oppressive, ungodly federals," and he also preached about facilitating the meeting between the union soldiers and their Creator. It brought quite a few chuckles.

During breaks, the soldiers had to fill rolls of paper with gunpowder. During battle, they tore the end of the paper roll off with their teeth, poured the powder in the barrell of the gun, and fired. It made a very realistic sound but since there was no ball, all it provided was the sound. Below, Anthony is preparing his gunpowder for battle. He went through about 30 shots per battle.

This is the town of Blountville. Most of the buildings on this street are the same ones that were standing there 150 years ago. The same buildings Tony's great great grandfather walked between.

This one has had some very influential guests...

These are pictures from the battle on Sunday afternoon.

Anthony in the heat of the battle.

Before the battle, it is decided who will win and who will die. Usually the Union will win one day and the Confederates will win the next. This weekend, though, the Union won both days. Sometimes, their death was so realistic that it fooled me. On one in particular, the gentleman fell and was holding his eye. Several of his men went to check on him while he was writhing on the road in pain. I was sure that his gun had malfunctioned and left him with an eyefull of gunpowder, but no, he was just a very good reenactor. After the battle is over, someone declares that the soldiers can "resurrect", and miraculously they all get up. Ready to go to the next battle.

While I know this is all an act, I can't help but fast forward my life several years. Several days ago, Anthony and I were discussing his high school friends and the fact that they were getting jobs. This conversation lead to other conversations,which lead to the "real jobs" conversation. The jobs after high school and after college. What he told me I will never forget. He said he couldn't imagine why anyone would want a job that "wasn't serving our country." So while he is only 15, I am haunted by the fact that he is already 15. Three more years. Then, this may be my reality.

What's He Shootin' At?

Yesterday, we got up at 3:30 A.M. Why, you might ask? We had to get to Clarksville, Tennessee, which is a 4-1/2 hour drive for us. And we had to be there by 8:30 a.m. We were going for The Tennessee Scholastic Clay Target Program state tournament. This is a new sport at our high school and the state tournament is this weekend. Unfortunately, due to vacations and previously planned engagements for the other team members, we had to go with a three person team. Because of this, we were not allowed to shoot the trap portion of the competition, which is what they had practiced all year. Since we only had three team members available we could only participate in the sporting clays competition. Which they had NEVER done before. We didn't even know what to expect. He was shooting at 9 and we thought he would be done by 10. We learned that sporting clays is a 10 "station" event where you shoot ten targets at each station. Each station is different with some being in the woods and some being in the field. And the walking. Oh, the walking. In flip flops. Up and down ridges in the woods. In flip flops. Carrying ammunition, my camera, book, Ipod, and cell phone all in a pretty pink Vera Bradley book bag. Did I mention I had on flip flops? Oh, and it was at least 198 degrees. I felt like one of the families ready to venture into the unsettled west, taking lots of stuff I didn't really need but not realizing I didn't need it or want it until halfway through the journey, probably around Oklahoma. After I had already worn down my pack mules.

Because there were ten stations, and to move things along as quickly as possible, each group started at a different station. Anthony's first station was #6. We walked about 100 yards before we entered the woods, walked along a nice rambling trail, then down a large hill that curved several times and was so steep the golf carts were sliding down it in the gravel. Oh, did I mention all the OTHER teams knew to bring 4-wheelers or golf carts. Just sayin'. At the bottom of this hill was station 5. And, since what goes up must come down, the opposite is also true. We went down, so must go back up. To station 6, which is RIGHT NEXT TO THE PARKING LOT. You see where I'm going with this, right. We walked FOREVER only to end up practically back where we started. In flip flops.

Sporting clays, apparently, are a simulation of hunting. That is why it is in the woods and in fields and all the different stations simulate a different hunting situation. Well, we (I) had never heard of sporting clays. When they were talking about the rabbit I thought there was an actual rabbit. Who picked a horrible day to be strolling around Clarksville. Nope. There is probably not an actual rabbit or bird in the greater Clarksville area due to this particular sporting event. The "rabbit" is a clay target that is rolled/hurled out of its chute at a very high rate of speed that bounces and bumps and jumps across the field in front of them.

There's smiley getting ready to "shoot some wabbits" (just like Elmer Fudd).

Okay, see the rabbit? ME NEITHER!!! If you will look very closely in the middle of the dark, shady spot, in the middle of the picture, there is a little orange spot. Just a fraction above the grass. THAT is the rabbit. THAT is what they were shooting at.

All the rest of the targets were in the air after station #6. The targets would come from beside you and behind you. Often times, the first one would come out quick and the other one was more of a lob. Sometimes the clay would be completely sideways making the target very small and then sometimes it would be turned so that you could see the whole face of the clay.

After we did stations 6 through 10, beside the parking lot, we caught a hay ride back around to... the beginning, where we had to walk the entire course again. In flip flops. At least we got to stop at each station this time, though, for a little rest.

This station was particularly difficult and Anthony had to go first on it (they rotated going first). The targets were going through the trees. The other shooters had the opportunity to watch and see that you needed to wait until the clay passed a particular tree before shooting it, which is why they rotate going first. You can learn a lot from others' success and failure.

The coaches from the two teams took turns working the "pull". This was Tony's turn.

And then there's Alex. She didn't want to go and we had made arrangements for her to stay home with her grandmother. But wait! You may eat at Rainforest Cafe afterwards? Then, I'm going. I can sit through shooting clay targets if I get to eat at Rainforest Cafe on the way home. I can ride 9 hours in a car in one day if I get to go to Rainforest Cafe afterwards. I can sweat through a 198 degree day if I get to go to Rainforest Cafe afterwards.

What? Rainforest Cafe is closed due to flooding in the Nashville area?

That's what she found out when she googled Rainforest Cafe Nashville on her phone at about Anthony's 8th station. Oops, we maybe should have checked that before we left...

We left soon after he finished shooting so we still don't know his results. He did very well, though, on some stations hitting 8 and 9 targets and on the last one he hit all 10. Can't wait to see where he falls in the rankings.

Now, off to nurse my feet after walking the sporting clays course twice. In flip flops. Carrying a pretty pink Vera Bradley bag with lots of unnecessary stuff in it.

In flip flops.

One More Christmas Post

THIS is the most important thing about Christmas. Luke 2.

I mentioned earlier that food was the most important thing about Christmas. Well, obviously it's not the MOST important thing, (although it does have a very special place in my heart.) Our family recognizes that the true meaning of Christmas is the birth of Jesus. We say Merry CHRISTmas, not Happy Holidays, and we think if reading the Bible at public CHRISTmas functions offends you then take down your CHRISTmas tree and return all of your CHRISTmas gifts. It is a CHRISTian holiday and you may actually be exposed to some CHRISTian beliefs. ---Okay, I will step down from my soapbox.

On Christmas Day, for our last family gathering, we go to my mom's to have lunch with my parents, my brother, and his family.

Amongst their assortment of gifts the boys got these manuals to study before getting their learner's permit. They were a little bit surprised by this one cause it really looked like they were getting coloring books. Maybe we can get these manuals in coloring book format - they may get more out of that!

Papaw got the girls a necklace.


And the boys got yet another gun. My mom says she has bought guns for Christmas FOREVER! I don't think the end is in sight either...

This is Holly's last Christmas as a high school student - a lot will change for her in the next year.

Instead of exchanging gifts, we play the dirty Santa game. The very first gift opened was the lump of coal that Anthony brought back from his mission trip to Kentucky. He had been planning this one for six months.

I think when you get older your arms must get shorter...

We had a great Christmas this year and hope all of you did as well.

Forms of Torture - Christmas Style

Every year we spend Christmas Eve with Tony's family - usually at our house but this year we went to Tony's brother's house since we weren't sure if ours would be put back together. Since this is always our first stop of the Christmas season, the kids are VERY excited. This is what they have been waiting for! The very first thing they want to know is, "Can we open presents first?" Every year the answer is no. After dinner. Don't they know what Christmas is all about? The food? I think the waiting should be getting easier for them since they are getting older but it sure isn't. This year, though, I think we perfected the torture. And I am not talking about this tickle torture.

Or the forced hugs. (Brennan always gives Alex a little therapy 'cause Alex is a personal space kinda girl.) This really is a form of torture to her but this is not what I am talking about either.

The ultimate form of torture for a 14 and 12 year old on Christmas Eve, at the first gathering of the season would be... Watching old movies. Not old movies like Gone With the Wind or It's a Wonderful Life but old movies, like reel to reel, home videos with no sound old movies. Old movies that they will appreciate one day but not at 14 and 12. On Christmas Eve. When there are gifts to be opened.

I took some pictures of the screen just to see if they would turn out and they did surprisingly well.



There was a box with several movies in it. After we had watched two or three of them, Alex came around the corner to ask me if we were gonna watch ALL of those movies.

She finally gave up...

They did finally get to open their presents much to their relief. They look so forward to the
time when they can open their gifts and then it is over so QUICKLY! They waited ALL DAY for those few moments of joy.

Kind of like a junkie, that fix didn't last long and they were begging on the way home to "open just one tonight. PLEASE?"

These Men

I have so many wonderful memories of holidays from when I was young. They include warm houses, the smell of good food, and the buzz of many people talking at once. I want my kids to have these same wonderful memories but what it seems like they are getting is a kitchen that has been turned upside down, chaos, rushing, and running from one place to the next. I want so terribly bad for them to have the same memories I had. We (I) try so hard to fabricate these moments and the perfectness of the holiday that I almost miss it in the feverish attempt to produce it. This year that moment came when Tony's Papaw came to Thanksgiving dinner at my parents house. This, in itself, was not so unusual but he brought a DVD that he wanted us to watch. I have to admit that the thought crossed my mind that I didn't particularly want to watch this DVD on Thanksgiving. "I wonder how long it is?" "I wonder what it is about?" "Maybe just the men will go down to the den to watch it." Shame on me! It has produced one of my all time favorite holiday memories.

This sweet gentleman...

is a World War II Veteran.

In the town where we live there are several businesses who sponsor a trip to Washington, D.C. - called Honor Air. This trip is only for the Veterans and it's free of charge to them. These businesses collect donations and charter an airplane to make this round trip. They left around 8 in the morning and returned around 8 or 9 that night. When they left the airport in Knoxville, they got a heroes send-off. There were people lined up with flags and balloons and a few speeches were made. When they arrived in Washington, D.C. they were greeted with a heroes welcome with a band playing, and another large group of people to shake their hands or hug their necks.

During the course of the day, they visited the memorials for each of the branches of the Armed Services. They also went to the Iwo Jima Memorial, Vietnam Wall, Korean War Memorial, Abraham Lincoln Memorial, and the World War II Memorial. They drove by many other sites of interest but these were their destinations for the day.

What struck me so fully while watching this video was the raw emotion still so evident in these men. These men who are now in their 80's and were still crying for lost friends and comrades, these men who were talking about the real heroes being the ones who didn't come home, and these men who enjoyed spending time with other Veteran's. These men, who are sometimes overlooked because of their age and increasing feeble nature, and who are sometimes ridiculed for being old or "old fashioned" are the very brave men who, 70 years ago, had our freedom in their hands. Their very capable, strong, and unshaking hands. And they delivered. So, who am I to not want to spend 30 minutes watching a video that encompasses a large part of our history and his history that he wanted to share with me? I should have been THANKFUL that he wanted to share that video with me and my family. And I will try to be from now on.

He had a little trouble keeping his eyes open for the pictures. Trying a little too hard, huh?

Three generations: one Army, one Air Force, and the other one - we're not sure yet - but his Momma hopes his stent in the Boy Scouts will suffice...

Day 2 of Construction Weekend

By the time I got downstairs yesterday, the boys had already pulled out all of the carpet so I only got this picture of it rolled up on the porch. They work fast. Anthony has been pulling up all the tacks (and scratching his name in the wood floors they have not taken out yet). I'm really not sad that I missed the carpet's demise - I'm sure that was a pretty gross endeavor.

Ant is getting the last few wood strips up that the carpet was attached to, then he has to start on the staples that held the carpet padding down.

After all that was out of the living room, they were ready to carry all the wood in so that it could be getting "room temperature." Have I mentioned how handy it is to have a strong teenage boy? Oh, yeah, and a strong husband, too.

That looks like lots-o-wood. It's gonna be a long weekend. Or week. Or month. Our Christmas tree may be in the bathroom this year...

This morning, though, he has started putting the new floor down.

Should I start a pool on how soon this will be done?

Marine Mud Run 2009

Bright and early this morning we got up to go the Marine Mud Run at Melton Hill Lake. I, of course, was not running in this or any 5K but Anthony and Alex both were. Anthony with dreams of BIG MUD. This is their first time doing this so we didn't know exactly what to expect.

We were prepared, though.

We had runners.

Before and after.

We had water. There was a fire truck from Karns Fire Department pumping water out of the lake to assist in washing all that mud off.

We had Marines.

We had obstacles.

This picture shows a few of the obstacles. There were tunnels, dirt piles, mud pits, logs to crawl over, logs to crawl under, sand pits, tires, and a wooden wall to climb over. The course took them through the lake twice, then right back into the mud.

When Alex passed me here, she said, "This is nasty."

Then there was Anthony who ran it in BDU's and combat boots like A REAL MARINE!

After they were finished, they had time for a little religious cleansing in the Ganges River. (Isn't that what this looks like?)
What the fire truck couldn't wash off, the lake could.

Alex says she is never doing this again and Anthony says they should have it every month. At the different obstacles, the marines were barking instructions like in the movies!! Just when I thought I had him sold on the Air Force the Marines had to host a wonderful event like this. It will take me months to undo what they have done!

All proceeds for Marine Mud Run go to Toys For Tots.