The time had been too short indeed. We had loved every minute  of it but it was time for the next part of our journey.

And one last one of the “water slides” at the shut-ins

We were too tired after Silver Dollar City to do much else. Earlier in the week grandma had mentioned a cemetery in  nearby Republic City where most of her mothers family was buried. A quick google search found it easily and we drove over to find it. The Wade Chapel cemetery was beautiful and old. The Goblin Child and I hopped out of the car to look around while the others drove. I loved looking at the old gravestones. Some were funny, as funny as a gravestone can be, and others brought me nearly to tears. A child less than a year, young children and couples married for decades. We did find grandma’s family, her grand parents and aunt, most of the cemetery did seem to be related to her.

I found a patch of wild strawberry’s and desperately wanted to dig a start but abstained as it did seem wrong somehow. Not to mention there was no way they would have made it home. I can’t believe I didn’t take any pictures.

On the way home we realized we were by the Wilson Creek Battle Field. We used to go there when I was a little kid, the road went through a creek, very exciting at the time, and grandma would tell the story her grandpa used to tell her about himself, or a cousin, time has a way of blurring memories, who was a little boy living at the  house there during the battle. The family story has always been that they brought the injured soldiers to the house to care for them. He was sent to fetch water but when he got down to the creek it was red with blood.

It was interesting to compare it with the “official” story. There was a family living here with small children who were sent to fetch water for the soldiers while they used the house for a hospital. There is no mention of the creek running red with blood, they always leave the interesting stuff out, but the signs point out a spring house where they fetched water from. It stands just across the creek. So why go the extra distance for water unless there was reason not to use the creek?

The family story says that the famous general who died at the battle (I don’t remember his name and is it really relevant to this story?) was brought to the house where he died wrapped in the families best quilt. The quilt was displayed at county fairs for years afterwards.

The official story is that he died on the battle field but was wrapped in a quilt. They leave the quilt story there.

The stories of the battle lead to more old family stories that have been told over and over but often get lost to time. While trying to remember if her grandpa had said that he was the one at the battle or one of his relatives grandma told some other great stories. We got to hear more about her grandpa, he was an Indian of the Delaware tribe, we knew that, but also that he had been left behind as a child on the trail of tears and adopted by a white family. How he, a Delaware, was on the trail of tears, thought that was the Cherokee? I don’t know. So many things lost to time, stories forgotten and never written down we will probably never know the whole story but the bits and pieces are fascinating.

We do know he grew up and married a woman named Rose Ella. As a child grandma remembers him singing in his native language and I think I’ve seen a picture of him in a headdress. He wasn’t interested in the children, didn’t sit them down and tell them stories but he would talk about these things and they listened. He walked with them at the battlefield where he told the story as they picked up arrow heads and now it has been carried on for at least one more generation.

I’ve been going there since I was tiny. I dream about it sometimes, usually I’m lost trying desperately to find my way around the place. Still love to go and am glad to be able to take the kids. The Goblin Child is a girl after my own heart, once she got started she wanted to ride all the good rides. The ones she was tall enough for that is. Fire in the hole was a bit much, I think it was the dark more than anything. She loved the Lost River, we did it a couple of times. At the bottom of the log ride, American Plunge, she asked to go again but decided against it by the time we got off. She rode the kiddie roller coaster and would have ridden it again, and again, but I thought we should try a couple of the other rides too.

Where were 8, grammy and grandma during all this? I don’t really know. while we were out running around they sat, slept and watched people go by. We abandoned them completely after the first few sights. I hope they had fun too but who can worry about that when there are rides to ride.

We brought grammy along for a few of the rides. She was sorry when it meant that she had to go with on a few of the rides. 8 was screaming every time I left them to take T.G.C. on a ride, we thought he should get some care and attention form his terrible mother.

Then the time had come for the show. The two of us meandered slowly up to the amphitheater, she wanted to ride more rides. I wanted to get food. We compromised and got food then found the others. The show started with some trick dogs. They were clicker trained so I was quite fascinated. Then there was the usual music. T.G.C. was really getting down to it. Until I got out the camera of course. The night ended with beautiful fireworks and very tired everybody. We made that long miserable trek back up the hill to the waiting car and home at last.

You can only go so much on a trip, there needs to be some time just to hang out. So we hung out and enjoyed each other, fixed things, broke things, got the air conditioner fixed!

The children and I ran away from home. Of course my always loving husband drove us. Not sure of all the implications there.

He delivered us to my mother who drove way out of her way to pick us up. All so I wouldn’t pack up the kids and head off on a two day drive to my Grandmothers house by our selves. The timing was perfect, my mom was going to see my grandmother for a week, heading home for a week then setting off with my dad to Montana. We could ride with her to my Grandmothers house, then home and they could drop us off on their way west. We could see everyone in one really big trip.

Of course nothing is ever just that easy. We had the hail storm just before time to leave. Traveling with two energetic young children is always difficult. My hard working husband had agreed months ago to DJ a wedding dance at the time mom would be able to meet. So we went down a day early. He hung out with us over night and left after lunch the next day. Mom drove all day and met us for supper that night so we had a day to play by ourselves. The hotel had a pool and across the street was a Tractor Supply and Dairy Queen, we were set.

Unfortunately Tractor Supply was having a big sale. With all of us and our luggage mom’s car was going to be packed to the gills. I bought stuff anyway.

The kids were thrilled to see Grammy, she’s so much fun. The trip down to Grandma’s went nicely, we stopped to play and eat and let the kids run regularly. That combined with stalking Amish made for a long trip but how could we not stop to look at the Amish’s horses? They were fascinating. I always think they are pretty cool so was rather disappointed to see some lame and thin. I suppose it’s like all things and all people, there are good and bad in all things and to lump them all together is the ultimate prejudice. Like with everyone some take good care of their equipment and animals and some don’t.

We did stop at a roadside tent an Amish girl had set up. I asked about her horse and was told in very broken english that it was a male horse. Really? I also thought they spoke english? But it was fun and I bought  Shoo fly pie for her trouble. It was delicious and when we shared it later it led to a new, old, song for The Goblin Child from her Grandma:

Shoo fly pie and apple pan dowdy

Makes your eyes light up and your tummy say howdy

We stopped at a civil war memorial and Confederate cemetery where The Goblin Child prayed to be able to see a goose and had that prayer granted. They wanted desperately to play in the lake. That desire was not granted. And we stopped to see a dog statue that mom remembered seeing when they were kids and made the same trip. The story on the plaque was a little different than the one she remembered being told. Grandma always has a way of making stories more interesting.

I know she went last winter but once a week for a couple of months, it was just for fun. Now we’re getting serious. She was excited and chose a beautiful dress. Now she will get to make good use of all her pretty dresses although when I said that she could wear a pretty dress every day she asked why. I was sad to see her go but am trying to make use of the time to get stuff done around here, so far I’ve trimmed hooves and ridden Rusty, that kind of counts.