Project Moving On, and a Story -The Lt. Colonel

Two weeks ago, I began a project on Tyvek (see here) and showed the materials to be used on it. I have worked on it as I could and here are some update photos. I have actually done a lot more since I took these pictures but I haven't photographed them yet. But at least you can see how it's proceeding!

There are several paint layers on it now, and it's evolving, as these projects often do, into something completely different than I had in mind when I began. I will update soon!

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The Lt. Colonel

52nd in the Tuesday Story Series

My father was born in South Carolina and my mother in Pennsylvania, so I have ancestors who fought on both sides during the Civil War. On my father's side, among many relatives who fought, one was his great grandfather who was a Lt. Colonel in the Confederacy. 

Born one of eleven children, Daniel Livingston married Narcissus Fanning and they had  ten children, one of whom died in infancy. The only photo I have of them shows him in his uniform, and her in a simple dress with a thin kerchief around her neck. She looks forlorn and tired, even more so than subjects of photos from that era usually do. During the years I was doing research on the family line, I was contacted by someone who claimed that he was descended from Daniel and his wife's sister. I had noticed that this sister was living with them when one of the census records were taken, so it could very possibly be true. With DNA testing available now for genealogy testing, it would be easy to find out. If it were true, that could explain why she appears the way she does.

Daniel joined the CSA as a Captain in Company B, Unit 1, Hagood's SC Infantry. He was wounded in Second Manassas and Sharpsburg. A story has been passed down that he was severely wounded during the Manassas battle and was found by a Virginian family and taken back to their home and nursed back to health. In gratitude, he named his seventh child after the family and the town they lived in - Quincy Fairfax Livingston. A family named Quincy living in Fairfax VA hasn't yet been located but it could still be possible.

If you have read anything about the armies during the Civil War, you will know that they do not reflect the US Army as it is now. On both sides, the men were free to leave after their three month subscription, or leave when it was time to plant or harvest. Officers were elected by their men, or named so by commanding officers who perhaps had favorites among the men they commanded. It was a loosely organized group on either side. I found letters my grandfather wrote requesting supplies and his handwriting was beautiful, which indicates that he had an education. At some point, the men he commanded complained about him after he was promoted to Lt. Colonel and he resigned his post. On the surface, that doesn't reflect well on him, but as I have read and studied that period, it was not an uncommon occurrence. After he left on 3 Mar 1864, he joined a local garrison in South Carolina, which was glad to have him.

I found his obituary in a small South Carolina newspaper, the Southern Christian Advocate, written by his pastor, George H. Pooser. It reflects the life of a man who earned respect, even though he had made mistakes. I think it's a reflection we would like to speak of ourselves when we are gone - that we suffered the frailties of our human form, but in the end we were "prepared for the change" as we go forward into eternity.

“Livingston SC- 

Col. Daniel Livingston was born in Orangeburg Co. SC Nov 27, 1827 and died Oct. 28, 1881. He was married to Miss Narcissa M.C. Fanning, April the 5th, 1849, joined the Methodist Church at the Boiling Springs Camp meeting and made a profession of religion six years ago. He rose to the rank of Lieutenant- Colonel in the Confederate army, was a man of strong attachment and warm friendship. Like other men, he had his faults, but he had the gift of drawing others to him. He was attacked with paralysis about five years ago, but recovered partially from it, so that he was able to go about until last March, when he was stricken down and confined to his bed almost constantly until he died. I visited him frequently during his last illness, and he assured me on several occasions that he was prepared for the change; as he did members of his own family before he breathed his last. He leaves a widow and blue (?) children, with a large circle of relatives to mourn his loss. Said one who knew him well, “Colonel Daniel Livingston will be missed.” He bore his sickness of seven months with much fortitude and patience, and his remains now repose at Hebron Church, Edisto Circuit.” G. H. P. 

Come see my latest postcards I've received on Postcards Buffet!

Project Update #3 and a Story: Fireworks

Happy New Year to you! I worked some more on my postcard project so here is an update. If you would like one of these, stay tuned - I am going to have a drawing when they are finished. There are 9 postcards, and if there are not more people than nine interested, then you can have a choice. Otherwise, I will choose. More information soon!

The original post is here and update #2 is here.

I dabbed pearl white over the tiny glass beads and some other textured parts.

Small makeup sponges, easily found at the drug store, make great paint applicators!

I use lots of the Polymer Medium, so I buy it in the largest size and fill up the bottle on my art table as needed.

Here is a dried white orchid on a dark rose petal. The Polymer Medium is on there very thickly, and will dry clear. This helps the blossom be more flexible and gives a strong seal. This will take a while to dry and may need more to finish it.

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FIREWORKS

39th in the Tuesday Story Series

As we listened to the fireworks explode and light up the sky in the dark this past New Year's eve, it reminded me of celebrations we had as a child. Often on New Year's Eve and the 4th of July we would drive up to my grandparents and meet other family members there. I have written before of how my grandfather had a quintessential country store in a small hamlet ner the center of South Carolina. It was on these holidays that we children would watch my father and his brothers take part what must have been a family tradition, but has not been repeated down into my generation.

My grandfather purchased all types of fireworks in anticipation of the get-together. For the children, he had sparklers which I must say were far superior to what is available today. They would last much longer and we would wave them around into magical designs in the air. There were poppers we could throw on the paved area which would give a satisfying "BANG". The adults would light strings of firecrackers, bottle rockets and even cherry bombs. Loud noises, brief colors in the air above us and the rat-a-tat-tat of the firework strings kept all of us children shouting and cheering. But the biggest event was the anvil jump.

Most farms and ranches still have anvils. Used by blacksmiths, farmers and craftsmen in the early 20th century, they were a necessary part of survival before the advent of modern welding. It was a basic tool, usually made of solid iron, now made of steel, with a hard surface to lay another object on for striking. The inertia of the anvil allows the energy of the striking tool to transfer to the object; it was also used as a forging implement for the shaping of hot metal. So, an anvil was a large and very heavy thing!

My grandfather, uncles and father would haul one out of the back of the store and place it out front. The aunts and my mother would start murmuring to each other and began to call all of the children back to what they considered a safe distance. The men would dig a shallow hole in the sandy ground, shaping it just right and lift the anvil over it from time to time to make sure all of the dimensions were correct. Then there would be a discussion about the technique of how to place the fireworks, whether the newer ones offered any advantages over the tried and true. Finally, they would arrange the fireworks carefully and then place the anvil on top. 

The goal was to see how high they could lift the anvil. As they were making all of the preparations, the women would be making the same comments they made before:

"Boys will be boys!" 

"Sometimes they never grow up, do they?"

"Oh, I hope they don't hurt themselves!"

"I wish they would get it over with!"

Most of the older children begged to be over there with them. Of course the answer would be a firm "NO". 

Then, the moment came and the fireworks were lit. There was a bright light, a very loud "WHUMP" and the anvil would be actually jump. The men and most of the children cheered, while the women and the rest of the children heaved a sigh of relief. There would be discussions about the height of the jump, comparisons to the last time they did it and a lot of back slapping. This event would draw the night to a close.

As I stated, it is not a tradition which is being passed on in this generation and I'm sure it's probably a good idea that it isn't! None of my cousins have an anvil as far as I know, and there are certainly safer ways to celebrate. It's something I remember fondly, though, watching my father, uncles and grandfather behaving like young boys!

Come see my latest postcards I've received on Postcards Buffet!

Tag Tuesday - Winter, and a story: Grandpop's Store

Last week for we got to think ahead for Spring on Theme Thursday, and today we are reminded there is still beauty in the current season. Today Louise's theme on Kard Krazy is simply Winter. We are still dealing with the "blizzard" we had in our area, and I noticed in the News today that the northeastern section of the US is having insult to injury with more ice and snow. So it's good to remember the beauty there instead of seeing all of the problems.

Winter Maiden

(click for details)

I really enjoyed making this tag! I used gel medium, Lumiere paint, and tissue paper for the background. I added an image copied from an old postcard, and then used acrylic paint with a little Lumiere for the scenery. The large snowflakes are vintage bronze ones, with Stickles added. Ribbon, a jeweled button, more Stickles and Skakura pens were used for details.

On yesterday's blog I mentioned an idea I had for a Upcycle Giveaway and I need some feedback. You can comment about it on that post or on this one. If there is no interest, I won't pursue it. I know I don't have the readers some of my blog friends do, but perhaps if there is interest, you can help spread the word!

GRANDPOP'S STORE

In today's story (4th in a series), I am borrowing from an earlier post in October to share again about my grandfather's store I used to visit when I was growing up. I had been making an altered cigar box for a project and it brought back those memories, as you will read.

"I finished my Altered Cigar Box today for the Bloggerettes Fall Findings Swap; it was a new experience for me to alter a cigar box.

I have several that used to belong to my mother, she used them to store everything from art supplies to rubber bands. I think she got them back when my grandfather used to own and operate a small country store/gasoline station back in the 50's and 60's. It was in a tiny village in South Carolina and some of the grandkids would take turns spending a week there during the summer. It was the classic country store, with items on shelves, a large butcher case with meats, a soda vending machine where you had to slide the pop bottle out by its neck along a horizontal track, a pickle barrel, potbellied stove with a checker board nearby and a couple of chairs. Grandpop sold everything from food, gardening implements, shotgun shells, hardware, household supplies, gasoline and candy. The candy sat on the counter in large glass jars, and we were offered a variety while we were there. The old gasoline pumps used to fill up at the top with a gallon of gas before it would come out through the hose to the car's gas tank. Later, he got more modern tanks, which would make a "ding" sound each time a gallon was dispersed. There was a train track across the highway from the store, and several times a week, Grandpop would take a large sack of mail up the steps to a small platform alongside the tracks and hoist it up to the top of a beam. When the train would come through, it slowed down enough for the engineer to take a long gaffer pole and hook the sack and bring it into the train. At the same time, another sack would be dumped onto the platform. That was how the mail came and went in this small village.

Outside, set back a little way from the store, was an ice house, where huge chunks of ice were kept cool with large bales of straw and complete darkness. The store itself was L shaped, with the bottom part of the L being my grandparent's living quarters. They had a generous front porch on which the adults would sit, and the cousins would play in the china berry tree. We would always be scolded for using the china berries as weapons, because they were so hard, they would leave little bruises when one would be flung toward an adversary and found its mark. That's also where I saw my first Lantana bush as a child. I was fascinated with the clusters of small, multicolored flowers all on one shrub.

Anyway, my parents grew up in the Great Depression and literally never threw anything away. And with six children in my household, it made a difference, although there were times when we really disliked some of my parent's money saving habits. However, my father could repair almost anything, having grown up on a farm, and we very rarely ever saw a repairman at our house. So, I came by these cigar boxes in a round about way and they remind me of much of which is lost today. Frugality has its place and I think many families are finding that out."

Determined to enjoy the beauty in Winter, hope you can do the same!!