It started out looking stressful and not worth the work. Dad and I were going to make a trip to Randle, WA, for Colonial Encampment. This is an event where you reenact what it was like in the eighteenth century, specifically pre-Revolutionary War.
We left on Wednesday morning, the 22nd, and drove for six hours. The drive was pretty uneventful, so I won't go into detail there. We did get stuck behind a ridiculously slow vehicle where there was no good opportunity to pass for a loooong way. Needless to say, we got there in one piece.
I am going to list our camp mates because some of them take part in the story I am about to tell you (yes, this is just the introduction, the juicy part is coming.). We had Steve (Dad's good friend of approximately twenty years) and his nine year old daughter Elizabeth. Also included were friends Paul and Dave. And the life of the party was Cal otherwise known as Foushee (foo-shay). Cal brought his friend, Carl.
(This is not the story yet.) Cal is a hoot. He had an obsession with what he called Molly Burgers the whole time we were there. Every morning he would go searching for this not so marvelous delicacy; he found a couple once but neglected to cook them up. He was jesting most of the time. Finally, on Sunday morning, Dad gave Cal a Molly. Cal, believe it or not when you find out what it is, fried it up with lots of garlic and ate the whole thing. It was disgusting! He is still alive to tell the tale.
Days were spent with Elizabeth and I doing the kid's games and picking apples and blackberries. Nights were spent playing rip roaring games of Shut-the-Box and playing the fiddle for the whole camp's enjoyment.
Speaking of playing the fiddle, something more than complements and tips came of it....and not what you would expect. Read on if you dare....
It all started with a scavenger hunt on Friday morning. Elizabeth and I were supposed to go throughout the camp looking for certain primitive items. When we found the items, we were to have whoever had it sign their name next to it. We made our way to a certain camp that belonged to a Glenn Richardson who just happened to be in charge of the tavern and the president of the association who puts the whole thing on. Here is how it happened:
Me: "Do you have a block of tea?"
Glenn: "Yes I most certainly do. It's right here," He holds it up for Elizabeth and me to see.
Me: "What's your name?"
Onlookers: "Awww, make him sign it! He can do the work!"
I handed him the paper and pencil.
Glenn's friend: "Hey, don't sign that until you make a deal with her!" He looks at me, "You're the fiddle player, right?"
Me: "Yep."
Glenn's friend: "Glenn, have her play at the tavern tonight and then sign the paper."
Glenn: "Melissa, does that sound like a deal to you?"
Me: "Sure."
That was how it all started. Later that night I got out my fiddle and had all intentions of playing at said location when it opened. It didn't open. And I waited. Finally, after practicing my fill, I put my fiddle in it's case and decided to play the next night. I couldn't remember which night he had said anyway.
Next morning, I was assigned by Cal to take pictures of an "Indian" fight that was going to happen down by the river. Cal, a licensed (primitive) surveyor to the state of Virginia, was going to show Glenn and his friend some surveying. Cal had gone into the Indian camp and told them what he was going to be doing and where. He said that he didn't want any trouble from them. Open invitation. So, I took the pictures as the men shot black powder at each other in a grownup match of cowboys and Indians with colonists instead.
Meanwhile, Glenn and his friend had not been able to come down right away because of a militia muster back at camp. But, they were there when the action ended. "Why didn't you play at the tavern last night?" Glenn asked inquisitively.
"I couldn't exactly remember what you had told me." I answered nonchalantly.
"Hmm, I'm going to have to bring this before the magistrate."
I giggled. Magistrate? Whatever that means...
I got back to camp and watched Elizabeth and Cal play a couple rounds of Shut-the-Box. I was just in the middle of my turn when Daddy and another guy come into camp. Dad said gravely, "I'm sorry Melissa, but we have a warrant for your arrest."
"Why? What did I do?" I hung my head in mock shame as they locked a heavy "bracelet" onto my right hand wrist.
"We'll attach the other end to Mr. Fields," said the crude looking fellow who accompanied my dad.
I wasn't sure what to think as they dragged me to the grove of trees that served as the courthouse. Many people were gathered around to watch the trial. There was a jury of about ten men, some of whom I was acquainted. The presiding judge was none other that Mr. Glenn Richardson. Great. It wouldn't have been so bad except that I knew there were stocks located outside the tavern.
They brought me over to a scary looking man dressed in a loin cloth and linen shirt. (Even though he looks really scary, he's actually very nice.) His arms and legs were tattooed with designs depicting an American Indian from that time period. His blondish hair was tied in a messy pony tail atop his head; feathers and horse hair were poking out of it in all directions. His teeth were another thing; not the sort of smile anyone would want to be stuck with. He went by the name of Critter. His real name was Timothy Fields. You guessed it. They handcuffed him to the other end of my bracelet. He whispered over to me, "I could throw you over my shoulder and we could make a run for it."
"Nah." I decided I would rather not ride on his shoulder.
Critter was accused of using counterfeit shilling notes to buy drinks at the tavern the previous night. After much debate the jury let him go if he would help look for the one who made the counterfeit notes.
I was next. I, of course, was charged with not keeping my word. Yeah, we knew that already, didn't we? They read the charge in such a way that I didn't quite know what they were talking about. (The whole trial was conducted like in the eighteenth century; accents, big words, etc.)
"How do you plead, Miss Wilson?"
"Not guilty?" I wasn't sure what to say.
They asked me a few questions about my charge and then, "How old are you?"
"Sixteen."
"Are you apprenticed to someone at home, or do you have someone whose authority you are under here?"
"Well, this is my dad," I pointed at the under sheriff to my right; my dad.
They asked him questions and finally deducted that a young lady should not be allowed in a tavern in the first place unless they were of lesser demeanor.
Glenn piped up, "At her age she's practically a spinster; she should already be married and have family!" (He was just teasing.)
Not fair.
The jury decided that to pay my debt I must play my fiddle at the tavern that night for free. They also said that they would open it earlier so that everyone could attend. They said they would keep the rowdiness in check so that it would be a place suitable for all.
I played that night and everyone appreciated it greatly. I made twenty eight dollars in tips and had the privilege of a "Scotsman" dancing to one of my reels and one of my jigs. It was great! I hated to leave the next morning.
Friday, September 7, 2007
Thursday, July 26, 2007
The Other Side of the Camera
Growing up. It doesn't seem so impending until you look back to where you have come from. Suddenly it feels as though I have no time left to do what I want before I'm out of the house and I have a family of my own. Where did the time go anyway? I haven't wasted away my childhood years yet, or have I?
For awhile, and still occasionally, I was excited for the day when I would get my independence. I would count the years until I would be eligible for marriage. Now, as the number gets smaller and smaller, it's almost terrifying; I miss my days of innocence.
Just recently, we dug out our old, dusty video tapes of Ben and my childhood. The first tape we watched, we were four and two. They bring back so many good memories. Watching them makes me giggle at how silly we used to be and yet we were extremely matured for our ages. Mom and I start comparing us to other kids that age, "[Mary] still can't talk as well as Ben does here and she's much older!"
"Can you imagine [Sally] playing the violin at her age?"
I look back in amazement at our abilities. At five years old, I was the youngest in a kid's choir with kids up to Junior High and I had every word of the songs memorized and I knew what I was singing about!
Yet, even though I could do all those things, I was an absolute brat! All of the camera attention, though it usually wasn't (thank goodness!), had to be focused on me...even though Ben was tons cuter. (I wish I could digitalize some of his so I could show you how adorable he was.) I used to do some of the dumbest things and tell Mom to watch; I was rarely candid. Ben, on the other hand, was always wonderful even when he was trying to show off for the camera.
It's these videos that make me realize how much I have grown up so quickly. Before I know it, I'll become the voice on the other side of the camera. There's no way that I will let the childhood of my (hopefully) future children slip by without me capturing at least some of it in a camera lens. Especially since I am having so much fun looking back on my young life now. And I'm only sixteen!
For awhile, and still occasionally, I was excited for the day when I would get my independence. I would count the years until I would be eligible for marriage. Now, as the number gets smaller and smaller, it's almost terrifying; I miss my days of innocence.
Just recently, we dug out our old, dusty video tapes of Ben and my childhood. The first tape we watched, we were four and two. They bring back so many good memories. Watching them makes me giggle at how silly we used to be and yet we were extremely matured for our ages. Mom and I start comparing us to other kids that age, "[Mary] still can't talk as well as Ben does here and she's much older!"
"Can you imagine [Sally] playing the violin at her age?"
I look back in amazement at our abilities. At five years old, I was the youngest in a kid's choir with kids up to Junior High and I had every word of the songs memorized and I knew what I was singing about!
Yet, even though I could do all those things, I was an absolute brat! All of the camera attention, though it usually wasn't (thank goodness!), had to be focused on me...even though Ben was tons cuter. (I wish I could digitalize some of his so I could show you how adorable he was.) I used to do some of the dumbest things and tell Mom to watch; I was rarely candid. Ben, on the other hand, was always wonderful even when he was trying to show off for the camera.
It's these videos that make me realize how much I have grown up so quickly. Before I know it, I'll become the voice on the other side of the camera. There's no way that I will let the childhood of my (hopefully) future children slip by without me capturing at least some of it in a camera lens. Especially since I am having so much fun looking back on my young life now. And I'm only sixteen!
Saturday, May 26, 2007
Officer Newbill's Memorial Service
We attended our friend, Lee Newbill's, (see last post) memorial service yesterday afternoon at the Kibbie Dome in Moscow. It was a very touching service. Nearly six thousand people were there to honor the fallen hero. We are going to miss Lee immensely.
Here is the full service from KHQ news:
http://khq.com/Global/story.asp?S=6549148 Click on the link for complete coverage to the left of the article.
I play the fiddle for this at 00:12 and 01:19 if you don't have time to watch the whole thing.
Thank you all for your prayers.
Melissa
PS
If you would like to see more on the Moscow Sniper Ambush, visit KXLY.com.
Here is the full service from KHQ news:
http://khq.com/Global/story.asp?S=6549148 Click on the link for complete coverage to the left of the article.
I play the fiddle for this at 00:12 and 01:19 if you don't have time to watch the whole thing.
Thank you all for your prayers.
Melissa
PS
If you would like to see more on the Moscow Sniper Ambush, visit KXLY.com.
Monday, May 21, 2007
Sadness
You have probably seen it all over the news; four dead, including officer, in a sniper attack in Moscow, ID. I am still in shock. I can't believe that this really happened.
Lee Newbill was the officer killed in the shooting. He is the first officer to be killed in the line of duty on the Moscow police force. He was also a very good friend of my family's. The horse pictured in my profile picture was his once; in fact, Lee was the man who sold us our horses. He was the officer that I interviewed for drivers-ed. He was the man that you always wanted to be at the Hog Heaven Muzze Loader meetings and outings because if he wasn't there it was extremely boring. He was the guy whom everyone liked. He was married and had three kids. He is gone. I will never see him again. I will miss him a lot. And none of us got to say goodbye.
You never think that these kind of things will happen to you. They always happen to everyone else and you say, "I'm so sorry for your loss," and forget about it. Oh, how I wish that I was the one giving my sympathies and not the one receiving them. I hate this feeling of grief and loss and I wish I could just get it out of my head. I wish I could somehow turn back the clock and prevent it from happening.
It was 7:40 AM when we got the call yesterday morning. Ben and Dad had just left to go to a car wash for the Boy Scouts. Mom answered the phone and as I rolled out of bed, I could hear what sounded like Mom crying as she went outside. When she came back inside from feeding the chickens, she told me that Lee had been shot by a sniper and was dead. I couldn't believe it. My first instinct was to pray that he would get better and then I realized that he was gone. The tears came. The egg McMuffin that I had made was left uneaten; I didn't eat anything until after we got home from church.
At church, everyone knew about the shooting. This is one of the biggest things that has ever happened in Moscow. Mom didn't sing on the worship team but I decided to play my fiddle anyway. I was hard to hold back the tears especially during "Blessed be Your Name" during the bridge:
You give and take away, You give and take away
My heart will choose to say, Lord, blessed be your name
As I helped with Sunday school for the kids, I was able to take my mind off the shooting. I decided that when I got home, I wanted to spend the rest of the day with the Bauers to do the same thing.
I ended up spending six and a half hours at their house that afternoon. I really needed the diversion.
This morning, Lee's wife, Becky, called and asked if I would play my fiddle for the memorial service that is to be held at the Kibbie Dome in remembrance of Lee. I gladly accepted but with tears in my eyes and a lump in my throat. I wasn't able to eat this morning either.
I ask for all your prayers as we go through this tough time. I also hope you will pray for Lee's family that they would be comforted through this whole thing and that they would come to Jesus through it all.
Thank you,
Melissa
Lee Newbill was the officer killed in the shooting. He is the first officer to be killed in the line of duty on the Moscow police force. He was also a very good friend of my family's. The horse pictured in my profile picture was his once; in fact, Lee was the man who sold us our horses. He was the officer that I interviewed for drivers-ed. He was the man that you always wanted to be at the Hog Heaven Muzze Loader meetings and outings because if he wasn't there it was extremely boring. He was the guy whom everyone liked. He was married and had three kids. He is gone. I will never see him again. I will miss him a lot. And none of us got to say goodbye.
You never think that these kind of things will happen to you. They always happen to everyone else and you say, "I'm so sorry for your loss," and forget about it. Oh, how I wish that I was the one giving my sympathies and not the one receiving them. I hate this feeling of grief and loss and I wish I could just get it out of my head. I wish I could somehow turn back the clock and prevent it from happening.
It was 7:40 AM when we got the call yesterday morning. Ben and Dad had just left to go to a car wash for the Boy Scouts. Mom answered the phone and as I rolled out of bed, I could hear what sounded like Mom crying as she went outside. When she came back inside from feeding the chickens, she told me that Lee had been shot by a sniper and was dead. I couldn't believe it. My first instinct was to pray that he would get better and then I realized that he was gone. The tears came. The egg McMuffin that I had made was left uneaten; I didn't eat anything until after we got home from church.
At church, everyone knew about the shooting. This is one of the biggest things that has ever happened in Moscow. Mom didn't sing on the worship team but I decided to play my fiddle anyway. I was hard to hold back the tears especially during "Blessed be Your Name" during the bridge:
You give and take away, You give and take away
My heart will choose to say, Lord, blessed be your name
As I helped with Sunday school for the kids, I was able to take my mind off the shooting. I decided that when I got home, I wanted to spend the rest of the day with the Bauers to do the same thing.
I ended up spending six and a half hours at their house that afternoon. I really needed the diversion.
This morning, Lee's wife, Becky, called and asked if I would play my fiddle for the memorial service that is to be held at the Kibbie Dome in remembrance of Lee. I gladly accepted but with tears in my eyes and a lump in my throat. I wasn't able to eat this morning either.
I ask for all your prayers as we go through this tough time. I also hope you will pray for Lee's family that they would be comforted through this whole thing and that they would come to Jesus through it all.
Thank you,
Melissa
Saturday, May 12, 2007
A Tribute to Mom
"She opens her mouth with wisdom, and the teachings of kindness are on her tongue....Her children rise up and call her blessed; her husband also, and he praises her: many women have done excellently, but she surpasses them all." -Proverbs 31:26,28-29.
How can anyone be more beautiful that the woman described in Proverbs 31? I have been blessed with a Proverbs 31 mom; the words in this chapter of the Bible describe her perfectly. She teaches my brother and me with such wisdom and kindness. It is difficult to find any fault about her. She most definitely surpasses any other mom that I know of; God has blessed me with the best mom that I think possible. In all that she does she displays the fruits of the Spirit (Galatians 5:22-23). I can see Jesus through the way Mom conducts her every action. If God blesses me with a family of my own, I pray that I can care for them the way that she cares for me. My mom: teacher, mediator, counselor, excellent wife, gourmet cook, expert gardener, and best friend forever. No one could ever replace her.
THANKS MOM FOR ALL YOUR HARD WORK!!!!!
How can anyone be more beautiful that the woman described in Proverbs 31? I have been blessed with a Proverbs 31 mom; the words in this chapter of the Bible describe her perfectly. She teaches my brother and me with such wisdom and kindness. It is difficult to find any fault about her. She most definitely surpasses any other mom that I know of; God has blessed me with the best mom that I think possible. In all that she does she displays the fruits of the Spirit (Galatians 5:22-23). I can see Jesus through the way Mom conducts her every action. If God blesses me with a family of my own, I pray that I can care for them the way that she cares for me. My mom: teacher, mediator, counselor, excellent wife, gourmet cook, expert gardener, and best friend forever. No one could ever replace her.
THANKS MOM FOR ALL YOUR HARD WORK!!!!!
Wednesday, May 2, 2007
Who Am I?
I went to a Bible study with some girlfriends last night and we talked about this list. It's very encouraging.
Matthew 5:13 I am the salt of the earth.
Matthew 5:14 I am the light of the world.
John 1:12 I am a child of God (part of His family). (See Romans 8:16)
John 15:1,5 I am part of the true vine, a channel (branch) of His (Christ's) life.
John 15:15 I am Christ's friend.
John 15:16 I am chosen and appointed by God to bear His fruit.
Romans 6:18 I am a slave of righteousness.
Romans 6:22 I am enslaved to God.
Romans 8:14,15 I am a child (son) of God (God is spiritually my father). (See Gal. 3:26, 4:6)
Romans 8:17 I am a joint heir with Christ sharing His inheritance with Him.
1 Cor. 3:16, 6:19 I am a temple (home) of God. His Spirit (His life) dwells in me.
1 Cor. 6:17 I and joined (united) to the Lord and am one spirit with Him.
1 Cor. 12:27 I am a member (part) of Christ's body. (See Eph. 5:30)
2 Cor. 5:17 I am a new creation (new person).
2 Cor. 5:18, 19 I am reconciled to God and am a minister of reconciliation.
Galatians 3:26, 28 I am a child (son) of God and one in Christ.
Galatians 4:6, 7 I am an heir of God since I am a child of God.
Ephesians 1;1 I am a saint. (See 1 Cor. 1:2; Phil 1:1; and Col. 1;2)
Ephesians 2:10 I am God's workmanship created in Christ to do His work that He planned before hand that I should do.
Ephesians 2:19 I am a fellow citizen with the rest of God's people in His family.
Ephesians 3:1, 4:1 I am a prisoner of Christ.
Ephesians 4:24 I am righteous and holy.
Philippians 3:20 I am a citizen of heaven and seated in heaven right now. (See Ephesians 2:6)
Colossians 3:3 I am hidden in Christ with God.
Colossians 3:4 I am an expression of the life of Christ because He is in my life.
Colossians 3:12 I am chosen of God, holy and dearly loved.
1 Thes. 1:4 I am chosen and dearly loved by God.
1 Thes. 5:5 I am a son of light and not of darkness.
Hebrews 3:1 I am a holy brother, partaker of a heavenly calling.
Hebrews 3: 14 I am a partaker of Christ....I share His life.
1 Peter 2:5 I am one of God's living stones and am being built up (in Christ) as a spiritual house.
1 Peter 2:9, 10 I am a chosen race, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, a people for God's own possession to proclaim the excellencies of Him.
1 Peter 2:11 I am an alien and stranger to this world I temporarily live in.
1 Peter 5:8 I am an enemy of the devil.
1 John 3:1, 2 I am now a child of God. I will resemble Christ when He returns.
1 John 5:18 I am born for God and the evil one (the devil) cannot touch me.
I am not the great "I AM" (Exodus 3:14, John 8:24, 28, 58) "....but by the grace of God I am what I am" (1 Corinthians 15:10)
Matthew 5:13 I am the salt of the earth.
Matthew 5:14 I am the light of the world.
John 1:12 I am a child of God (part of His family). (See Romans 8:16)
John 15:1,5 I am part of the true vine, a channel (branch) of His (Christ's) life.
John 15:15 I am Christ's friend.
John 15:16 I am chosen and appointed by God to bear His fruit.
Romans 6:18 I am a slave of righteousness.
Romans 6:22 I am enslaved to God.
Romans 8:14,15 I am a child (son) of God (God is spiritually my father). (See Gal. 3:26, 4:6)
Romans 8:17 I am a joint heir with Christ sharing His inheritance with Him.
1 Cor. 3:16, 6:19 I am a temple (home) of God. His Spirit (His life) dwells in me.
1 Cor. 6:17 I and joined (united) to the Lord and am one spirit with Him.
1 Cor. 12:27 I am a member (part) of Christ's body. (See Eph. 5:30)
2 Cor. 5:17 I am a new creation (new person).
2 Cor. 5:18, 19 I am reconciled to God and am a minister of reconciliation.
Galatians 3:26, 28 I am a child (son) of God and one in Christ.
Galatians 4:6, 7 I am an heir of God since I am a child of God.
Ephesians 1;1 I am a saint. (See 1 Cor. 1:2; Phil 1:1; and Col. 1;2)
Ephesians 2:10 I am God's workmanship created in Christ to do His work that He planned before hand that I should do.
Ephesians 2:19 I am a fellow citizen with the rest of God's people in His family.
Ephesians 3:1, 4:1 I am a prisoner of Christ.
Ephesians 4:24 I am righteous and holy.
Philippians 3:20 I am a citizen of heaven and seated in heaven right now. (See Ephesians 2:6)
Colossians 3:3 I am hidden in Christ with God.
Colossians 3:4 I am an expression of the life of Christ because He is in my life.
Colossians 3:12 I am chosen of God, holy and dearly loved.
1 Thes. 1:4 I am chosen and dearly loved by God.
1 Thes. 5:5 I am a son of light and not of darkness.
Hebrews 3:1 I am a holy brother, partaker of a heavenly calling.
Hebrews 3: 14 I am a partaker of Christ....I share His life.
1 Peter 2:5 I am one of God's living stones and am being built up (in Christ) as a spiritual house.
1 Peter 2:9, 10 I am a chosen race, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, a people for God's own possession to proclaim the excellencies of Him.
1 Peter 2:11 I am an alien and stranger to this world I temporarily live in.
1 Peter 5:8 I am an enemy of the devil.
1 John 3:1, 2 I am now a child of God. I will resemble Christ when He returns.
1 John 5:18 I am born for God and the evil one (the devil) cannot touch me.
I am not the great "I AM" (Exodus 3:14, John 8:24, 28, 58) "....but by the grace of God I am what I am" (1 Corinthians 15:10)
Sunday, April 29, 2007
A Poem
Here is a poem that I wrote a while back. I posted it on my Xanga alreay but because of a lack of creativity at the moment, I will be content with re-posting it.
A poem
Music of the heart,
Fortes and pianissimos of the imagination,
Feelings formed into thoughts,
Placed into words,
To build the harmony,
Of the mind and soul
A happy march,
Or a lamenting dirge,
A romantic opera,
A solemn hymn
With every crescendo and de crescendo,
It forms the melody of a life,
Music of the heart,
A Poem
Fortes and pianissimos of the imagination,
Feelings formed into thoughts,
Placed into words,
To build the harmony,
Of the mind and soul
A happy march,
Or a lamenting dirge,
A romantic opera,
A solemn hymn
With every crescendo and de crescendo,
It forms the melody of a life,
Music of the heart,
A Poem
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
