once upon a hoop skirt. . .

"Do you hear the people sing, singing the song of angry men? It is the music of a people who will not be slaves again! When the beating of your heart echos the beating of the drums. . .

 - there is a life about to start when tomorrow comes!"
Do You Hear the People Sing, Les Miserables 

Thank God for flip flops that allow one to traverse (or rather wade) through mud spattered, rain soaked fields-turned-parking lots; feet can be washed. These were my thoughts when at last the storm abated to a drizzle, and my family decided to brave the elements, dashing toward the Visitors Center, breathing in horse manure and rivulets of gun-smoke. Grey skies; too cold for August, matching the uniforms dotted among coats of blue. Costumed people were everywhere. . .swaying skirts, yelling children, tents marching in rows down the usually quiet paths of the Living History museum. . .

My first REAL reenactment. . .or at least, the first battle I've ever seen live. I love history, have a love-hate relationship with sewing, and know how to dance. I am *so* going to do this someday. . .and am now more inspired then ever to finish my Civil War Ballgown. As I stood huddled under my umbrella, watching the fifers, gawking at the not always dashing "soldiers". . .I was swept back over 150 years. Crazy, I know, but under all the pink-prissiness and femininity, there is nothing I love more then God, guts, and country. And hey, I don't even support the South. Am I allowed to say that? ;) Ok, I'll admit I ride the fence. . .

The clouded overcast added a flourish to the plot; like a scene from a movie; reminiscent of puddle-dodging along the cobblestone streets of Williamsburg Virgina. Simple thrills are the most meaningful. Closing your eyes, transforming something, anything, into a piece of the past. . . flip-flops turned to high-buttoned boots.

And then it really happened. . .my sundress vanished under the bell of a hoop, a real  hoop. Oooh. . .there is nothing as divine or feminine then a big, swingy, lovely, HUGE hoop. It almost gave me goosbumps.  . .

 

Need I say how in LOVE I am? Of course if I order a hoop from this particular seamstress, she'd have to take the top up quite a bit, or else cut off the fifth boning, which is illegal. Proper hoops have five "bones."

  

 

. . .the sun finally overcame the clouds: just in time for :shiver: the battle. With bated breath we watched the warriors take their places. And I must say, the Calvary men are the most epic-ly-dashing. Even if they were "rebels."  ;)  - thundering across the field on gorgeous steeds, swords clanking at their side. Total heart skip. 

 

"Do you hear the people sing? lost in the valley of the night. It is the music of a people who are climbing to the light! For the wretched of the earth, there is a flame that never dies; 

- even the darkest night will end and the sun with rise!" 
Les Miserables, prologue 

My soul drank in the lonely trill of a bagpipe; raced with the horses; pulsed with the cannons roar; took in every sight, smell . . .and blocked away the whelm of onlookers. Now there are all sorts of yummy book ideas swarming my head. Last month: barricades, a young single father fighting for his life, nearly giving it for his little girl, (my beloved Renè!) Last week: an 1860's cattle ranch in Texas, (long story there.) Now? Jace Cahill, Confederate solider. And yes, I said Confederate. You have permission to call me immature. ;)

On a personal note: I *cannot* wait to delete my horrid header. Seriously. . .I do NOT like it. Another week, another week. You'll see why then. But what's with the loss of followers? o.O TLRoS went from 172 to 167 in 2-3 days! I know I haven't blogged in a while, but its not THAT boring, is it, ppls?

**Photos by Anna