Willowbrook

September 2008
This was my third visit to Willowbrook and it will always be a favorite of mine. First, it was my first real event in re-enacting and second because I was voted as a real member of the Third there.

This time I was once again portraying a women from the Maryland Bible Society and found Company A in deep need of a moral compass. Alarmingly, there were underpinnings handing where anyone could see them!



It was delightful to meet the authoress of Billy Boy, a book I very much enjoyed. Ashley spent alot of the time running around and also enjoyed the farm.

The best part of the day was watching grown men in union uniforms riding on undersized carousel ponies. All of them had huge grins on their faces!

Public Restrooms

When you have to visit a public bathroom, you usually find a line of women, so you smile politely and take your place. Once it's your turn, you check for feet under the stall doors. Every stall is occupied.

Finally, a door opens and you dash in, nearly knocking down the woman leaving the stall. You get in to find the door won't latch. It doesn't matter, the wait has been so long you are about to wet your pants! The dispenser for the modern 'seat covers' (invented by someone's Mom, no doubt) is handy, but empty. You would hang your purse on the door hook, if there was one, but there isn't - so you carefully, but quickly drape it around your neck, (Mom would turn over in her grave if you put it on the FLOOR! ), yank down your pants, and assume ' The Stance.'!

In this position your aging, toneless thigh muscles begin to shake. You'd love to sit down, but you certainly hadn't taken time to wipe the seat or lay toilet paper on it, so you hold 'The Stance.'

To take your mind off your trembling thighs, you reach for what you discover to be the empty toilet paper dispenser. In your mind, you can hear your mother's voice saying, 'Honey, if you had tried to clean the seat, you would have KNOWN there was no toilet paper!' Your thighs shake more.

You remember the tiny tissue that you blew your nose on yesterday - the one that's still in your purse. (Oh yeah, the purse around your neck, that now, you have to hold up trying not to strangle yourself at the same time). That would have to do. You crumple it in the puffiest way possible. It's still smaller than your thumbnail

Someone pushes your door open because the latch doesn't work. The door hits your purse, which is hanging around your neck in front of your chest, and you and your purse topple backward against the tank of the toilet. 'Occupied!' you scream, as you reach for the door, dropping your precious, tiny, crumpled tissue in a puddle on the floor, lose your footing altogether, and slide down directly onto the TOILET SEAT . It is wet of course. You bolt up, knowing all too well that it's too late. Your bare bottom has made con tact with every imaginable germ and life form on the uncovered seat because YOU never laid down toilet paper - not that there was any, even if you had taken time to try. You know that your mother would be utterly appalled if she knew, because, you're certain her bare bottom never touched a public toilet seat because, frankly, dear, 'You just don't KNOW what kind of diseases you could get.'

By this time, the automatic sensor on the back of the toilet is so confused that it flushes, propelling a stream of water like a fire hose against the inside of the bowl that sprays a fine mist of water that covers your butt and runs down your legs and into your shoes. The flush somehow sucks everything down with such force that you grab onto the empty toilet paper dispenser for fear of being dragged in too.

At this point, you give up. You're soaked by the spewing water and the wet toilet seat. You're exhausted. You try to wipe with a gum wrapper you found in your pocket and then slink out inconspicuously to the sinks.

You can't figure out how to operate the faucets with the automatic sensors, so you wipe your hands with spit and a dry paper towel and walk past the line of women still waiting.

You are no longer able to smile polite ly to them. A kind soul at the very end of the line points out a piece of toilet paper trailing from your shoe. (Where was that when you NEEDED it??) You yank the paper from your shoe, plunk it in the woman's hand and tell her warmly, 'Here, you just might need this.'

As you exit, you spot your hubby, who has long since entered, used, and left the men's restroom. Annoyed, he asks, 'What took you so long, and why is your purse hanging around your neck?'




This is dedicated to women everywhere who deal with a public restrooms (rest??? you've GOT to be kidding!!). It finally explains to the men what really does take us so long. It also answers the other commonly asked questions about why women go to the restroom in pairs. It's so the other gal can hold the door, hang onto your purse and hand you Kleenex under the door!

This HAD to be written by a woman! No one else could describe it so accurately!

Hurricane Ike Uncovers Civil War Ship, Fort Morgan, AL

It has been buried for decades under the sands of the Gulf in Fort Morgan, Alabama. Hurricane Ike uncovers a Civil War ship. The wood of the ship is charred near the beach level.
The ship is about 150 feet long and 36 feet wide at its widest point, based on what could be seen


Ft Morgan
Ft Morgan

The Rock

I Can't believe this was done by a teenager!!
There is a huge rock near a gravel pit on Hwy.25 in rural Iowa.
For generations, kids have painted slogans, names, and obscenities on this rock, changing its character many times. A few months back, the rock received its latest paint job, and since then it has been left completely undisturbed..

It's quite an impressive sight. Be sure to scroll down and check out the multiple photos. (all angles) of the rock.



I thought the flag was draped over the rock, but it's not. It's actually painted on the rock too



Here is the artist. Ray "Bubba" Sorenson

Labor Day Weekend On the Train

A small but sturdy group turned out for the Labor Day Weekend train event.
The day started with 4 against 3. As always it was most enjoyable!

After lunch, One of the Southern belles was kidnapped as a "nurse". By the next train run, she
had disappeared and oddly there was a new soldier in their ranks.




Our last train of the day was had 150 Koreans on board. Few spoke English but all seemed to enjoy the shoot out and Cousin Steve's corpse. Many took pictures with us even posing with Steve as he lay there pretending to be dead!