En Fuego

Looking Through The Windshield

A mountain lake in the great Smoky Mountains of western NC through the windshield of the Jeep on the way to Tennessee.

The Help

A Man, A Plan, A Canal, Panama

Woodrow E. at the Panama Canal Zone

Hat Tip

I like hats. To Hell with it. I refuse to explain myself.

Mouse over to embiggen

Don't Fly My Flag

First, a moment of clarification. 
This is a Confederate battle flag:

It was usually carried by individual units throughout the war, like this one was: 

It never represented the entire Confederate States of America.  If you didn't know that, don't fly my flag.

If you can't articulate a simple convincing argument as to why you do fly any of these flags, don't fly my flag.

It is not a symbol of hate.  It is a symbol of heritage.  It is a symbol of a lost but not forgotten cause.  That cause is NOT slavery.  Slavery is wrong.  If you do not know that, don't fly my flag.

If you are a racist, don't fly my flag.  You do not deserve to.  Many men of different skin tones fought and died for this flag.  White men.  Black men.  Native American Indians.  These men each fought for their own reasons.  Some were slave owners.  Most were not.  You get that?  MOST were NOT.  If you didn't know that, don't fly my flag.

You see, men died under this banner.  Good men.  Strong men.  Hard working family men.

They died because they believed in individual freedom.  Not mandates from a government that saw itself as all powerful and all knowing although it was far removed from the lives of it's citizens.

If you didn't know that, and don't believe it, don't fly my flag.

If you have hate in your heart.  Don't fly my flag.  Don't wear it on a shirt.  Don't put it on a licence plate.  If you think what you are doing only offends ignorant people, you could not be more wrong.  It offends me, and I am neither ignorant nor intolerant.

So, if you don't get what I mean by any of this, do us both a favor and don't fly my flag.

Now We're Cookin'

Next instalment of house pictures...  I was going to do a separate blog on the whole house restoration, but that never materialized, so I suppose I'll just stick a few pictures in here and there.  These are some of those.  When we moved in, there was no kitchen.  There was a room that looked like the zombie apocalypse had come and gone.  So, for your edification:  Our kitchen before and after...  Or after and before as the pictures may suggest.  Bear in mind that the kitchen has been in place for 8 months or so, these pics were from that time period.  It is still almost as clean...  Almost.

The back door, with obligatory blue heeler on guard duty.

All the door hardware is original aside from the round deadbolt.

Some of the bead board was missing, so I salvaged some.

It came from an 1830's house that was beyond saving.

Gas stove with convection oven and convection oven microwave.

We had a bench put under the windows by the back door.

It gave some extra storage and a place to sit...

Everyone knows all gatherings end up in the kitchen.

 Kitchen sink, and dishwasher.  We left the chimney exposed.

White carera marble counter tops and glass front overhead cabinets.

The picture is Mother Egan. 

When Mother Egan's Pub in Austin, TX closed, she came to live with us.

 Breakfast is always nice on our antique English drop leaf table.

The table is almost round.  when open it measures 48"x49"

We found matching chairs since this picture was taken.

The windows are original wavy bubble glass.

 Freezer on bottom refrigerator

Laundry room door with bulldog bottle opener.

Again, original door hardware.

Aim Low Boys...

...They're riding Shetland Ponies!

These pictures were probably taken 15-20 years apart.

Do people still do this?

Oh, and I just gotta do this...

Ladies and gentlemen, Jimmy the yodeling Shetland pony will not be able to perform tonight...

He's a little horse.

Ba-dum-bum.

Asa

Asa W. White

Photo taken in Le Mans, France 1918

His Dischage papers

Note going home

Paybook sleeve

Interior of paybook

Attached to front of paybook

Stair Off Into Space

Sorry, Been a little preoccupied lately. I still have a bunch of old stuff to post. I'll get back to that tomorrow... I'm also going to try to write a little something to go with each picture. A blurb, a story... Something. Anyway, thanks for stopping by.

Decent Docent

I was a docent at a house for the October Homes Tour here in town on Sunday. The house was built in 1882, so I had to fast forward 20 years from being a confederate soldier on Saturday. Luckily for me, men's fashions change rather slowly.

Two people asked me if I was a ghost... One asked if I was Jack the Ripper.

Maybe I should make this picture blend in a little better...

None Shall Pass

Actually, I'm a confederate prison guard in a living history that's part of the October homes tour they're doing here in town this weekend. I have to gun down a Yankee who crosses the dead line with my double barrel shotgun.
Fun, no?

Just Swimmingly

I suppose it was... Clara and Willie have different last names on the back of the picture, but it says Daddy and Mother on the front. Hmmmm.

The Long Run

Priming Tobacco

John Lawrence and Pearl
John Lawrence was my uncle, Married my dad's oldest sister.
He was also the son of These Folks.

Doughboy

Sadly, I don't know who this young man is. The back of the picture is stamped "Camp Jackson Studio, Columbia, SC"

Catch

Kids and Animals

How can you go wrong?

Before The War

ca. 1935ish