I thought I would get this semi-political post on its way before the drumbeat of Christmas and New Year’s drowns out almost everything until January. I’ve consistently had very few nice things to say about the government and its politicians. I once leaned to the political right but in truth it’s gotten to the point where you really can’t tell the political parties apart. Most people would rather be known as Independents rather than Republican or Democrat. As I’m a fan of the English language I decided that maybe I should make an attempt to soften my rhetoric a little. So, in the future my new term for these people will be “fools”, who are being “foolish”, and accomplishing nothing but “foolishness”.
Dictionary Definition
fool’ish
Resulting from poor showing a lack of sense; ill considered; unwise: a foolish action, a foolish speech.
Lacking forethought or caution.Trifling, insignificant, or paltry.
It sounds pretty tame to me and maybe it’s too tame. I’m afraid that at times I won’t be able to control my anger and an F-bomb or two may make an appearance. Oh well, I’m only human and “to err is human, to forgive divine” after all. I’m still working hard on reaching the “divine” stage. Every expert or intellectual feels a certain responsibility to make some grand quote on the term “foolish” and one or two are actually worth repeating. Here are few I’ve found but I make no guarantees as to their worth.
“A foolish man tells a woman to stop talking, but a wise man tells her that her mouth is extremely beautiful when her lips are closed.”
“You may fool all the people some of the time, you can even fool some of the people all of the time, but you cannot fool all of the people all of the time.” Abraham Lincoln
“You can educate a fool, but you cannot make him think “. The Talmad
And my all-time favorite:
“He who is born a fool is never cured.” Proverbs
“Any fool can make a rule, and any fool will mind.” Henry David Thoreau
“When in doubt, make a fool of yourself. There is a microscopically thin line between being brilliantly creative and acting like the most gigantic idiot on earth. So what the hell, leap.” Cynthia Heimel
“By the time the fool has learned the game, the players have dispersed.” African Proverb
“A fool may be known by six things: anger, without cause; speech, without profit; change, without progress; inquiry, without object; putting trust in a stranger, and mistaking foes for friends.” Arabian Proverb
IT IS BETTER TO KEEP YOUR MOUTH CLOSED AND LET PEOPLE THINK YOU A FOOL
I’m about to write a short story which is a multilevel PSA (Public Service Announcement). I’ll explain what that means in a few minutes but first I wanted to mention a video I watched on Facebook a few days ago. It was a home video taken by Taylor Swift’s mother a short while after she’d had her wisdom teeth removed. She was a bit loopy, confused, and hysterically funny. I laughed along with everyone else until I sat down and started thinking about when I had my wisdom teeth removed. I’ve written about it in the past and it’s still funny now, but it wasn’t funny then as you’ll see.
It’s March of 1974, Richard Nixon resigned the presidency, gas is $.55 a gallon, and I’m getting my damn wisdom teeth removed. I’m a 28-year-old police officer who was being driven to the dentist by his wife anticipating I wouldn’t be able to drive home. The dentist puts me in the chair, fills me with an anesthesia, and removes the wisdom teeth. I woke up a short time later in a side room and had no idea who or where I was. I’m force-fed a painkiller that in company with the residual anesthesia left me a damn zombie. I’m loaded into my car and driven a short distance to a local drugstore to pick up my painkiller prescription and ordered by my wife to stay in the car.
It’s March and it’s cold so I turn on the heater, close the windows, and relax. But only for a moment. Being the conscientious police officer I was, I remembered that I’d left my loaded pistol in the glove compartment. I removed the pistol, popped out the magazine, and placed it in my pocket. So far, so good. Out of habit I took the unloaded weapon and aimed it casually at the end of my foot and dry fired. Oops, I forgot about the round in the chamber and being a relatively good shot, I hit what I aimed at. The bullet punched a neat round hole through the toe of my shoe, removed a small crescent shaped chunk from the side of my big toe, on through the floor of the car, hitting the pavement and ricocheting into the passenger side tire.
I was hammered and stunned all at the same time. The car was filled with smoke, I couldn’t hear a thing and found myself laughing hysterically. In fact, the sound of the shot in the car deafened me for about 15 minutes. My wife arrived, opened the door, and four or five F-bombs later finally asked me if my foot was okay. Of course, her first priority was the tire, seeing as it was her car.
The moral of the story is simple. First never, ever, handle a gun while “stoned” with legal or illegal drugs. Secondly, never operate machinery, vehicles, or small pistols while taking painkillers, and thirdly, never trust a smiling dentist or a soon-to-be ex-wife. That’s my tale of woe and my admission to sheer stupidity. I’m hanging my head in shame even remembering it again. It sounds just as stupid now as it did then. What was I thinking? I obviously wasn’t.
The subject of this posting is synchronicity which is just another fancy word for coincidence. Being a former criminal investigator I was trained to believe there is no such thing as coincidence. For quite a few years I truly believed that there weren’t but one midnight shift in the summer of 1974 change all that. I’ll try to keep this as short as possible but I tend to ramble so bear with me.
It was an extremely hot August night; it was Sunday which was one of the slowest days of the week for police business. My partner and I were bored out of our minds because due to the heat there was very little activity. Around 2:30 in the morning we drove back to the state police barracks to check on the desk man who was working alone in the building. We brought him some soft drinks and lunch and we settled down to kill a few minutes.
We walked into the desk area, and it was like a bomb went off in there. He had been given an assignment on a slow night to start purging old reports from the files. We’re talking reports going back for years or more and he had three large trash barrels completely filled with pink slips. The pink slips were slips where each call was recorded and then forwarded to the appropriate officers for follow-up and reports. While both of us felt really sorry for the desk man, we didn’t feel sorry enough to jump into that nightmare. After 20 minutes of whining, we were guilted into helping the poor guy.
I was standing over one of the trash barrels that must’ve contained at least 400 old pink slips. While I was talking to the desk man I randomly picked one up and quickly read the title. Now you got to go back with me a few minutes because an hour or so prior to our visit to the barracks we’d been on a call for a suspicious vehicle at a specific residence at a specific time in the northern part of our county. I looked down at the pink slip I’d picked out of the barrel, and it was dated exactly one year ago and concerned a suspicious vehicle at a specific residence at a specific time in the northern part of the county. It was identical to the call we just completed. Exactly the same residence at exactly the same time and for the same reason. Then it got really weird because the officers assigned to the original complaint were my partner and me. To say we were stunned is an understatement.
To this day I can hardly believe the whole thing happened but it did. I have absolutely no explanation as to how that could have come about which I suppose is what keeps it interesting to this day. It’s made me wonder upon occasion if some of the weird coincidences we hear about are absolutely true.
I just finished reading a book titled Incredible Coincidences, written by Alan Vaughan. He documents dozens and dozens of cases similar to this and of course can offer no explanation for his either. It seems to me that it happens way more than we think if his book is any indicator. I’m still not a big believer in all the weirdness that people alleged is out there, but this incident gave me pause.
I’ve posted many times that I was a cat person. When I was a kid, my father raised beagles and trained them for hunting. We never had less than 10 or 12 puppies scampering around the yard and it was one of my chores to feed them, play with them, and shovel up after them. I would leave the house with food and I would be mobbed by gangs of puppies and it was a lot of fun but it got old after a few years. I’ve always found dogs to be very needy to the extreme and that put me off a little bit. My parents continued after the closing of the kennel to have one or two dogs for the rest of their lives. It was just how they were raised and they could never understand why I preferred cats. I’m not about to get into a long explanation on why I prefer cats because I’m sure you’ve all heard the pros and cons. It just seems that people raised with dogs prefer dogs and people who were raised with cats prefer cats. I’m not saying that’s the way it is for everyone but that’s the way it was for the people that I knew and why I took so much grief when I refused to have dogs as pets. I’ve loved every cat that’s been in my life regardless of their quirks.
Relationship between cats and humans goes back as far as you can imagine. Most historians believe it all began in ancient Egypt where cats were worshiped and, according to legend, were responsible for eliminating a plague of rats in Egypt. Egyptians not only mummified their dead pharaohs, but also mummified their dead cats. Over the centuries many superstitions have developed concerning cats and I think I’d like to review a few of them now especially for those of you who are dog people. Let’s go…
In the dark ages cats were mistrusted and believed to consort with witches and warlocks. They allegedly brought evil and bad luck as well. Some folks reason that the bubonic plague that killed thousands of people in Europe during the medieval ages was caused by killing the then believed “evil cats.” In killing the cats, they were killing the natural predator of rats – the creatures who actually were spreading the plague with their fleas.
Most superstitions about cats have been passed down from generation to generation and most are utter nonsense but believed nonetheless. To this day many people actually believe that if your path is crossed by a black cat, you are in for some bad luck.
If a cat washes it’s ears, then bad weather is on its way. Or if the cat licks its tail, it is sure to rain. Of course, this has to be nonsense since that’s about all cats do is constantly wash their ears and tails. Cats are always cleaning themselves and are known to be exceptionally fastidious.
If the first person a cat looks at after washing itself is young and single that person will marry soon. For this superstition to work, you have to be young and single. You middle-aged people can forget about it.
It is said that if a cat is present at the marriage of a couple, they will have good luck in that marriage.
For those of you cat haters, don’t throw a cat overboard while on a boat. It is said that will cause a storm to blow up. And honestly if you throw a cat into the sea, you deserve to have a storm blow up.
Black cats spawned a variety of superstitions. If a black cat comes to your door, you will soon have a lover in your life. If a black cat adopts you, you will have bad luck, so send it away. If a black cat lies on a grave, it means the dead person’s soul is being possessed by the devil. And last but not least if you stroke a black cat’s tail seven times you will have good luck in cards.
If you see a white cat, that means poverty, just seeing a black cat means wealth. And if during a full moon you see a white cat it means you’ll be married soon.
The superstition that cats “suck” a baby’s breath away comes from the Dark Ages. A cat cannot and does not “take” a baby’s breath away. In fact, cats like babies and will often sleep at the bottom of their cribs the way they will sleep at the end of their masters or mistress’s bed.
Many people are frustrated in dealing with cats because they are not obedient. They obey no one unless they feel like it. In some circles they have a bad reputation similar to those given to independent women. What kind of a world would it be without cats or independent women? Think about it.
I’ve owned seven cats in my life, some good and a few not so good. I would never ever be happy unless I had a cat at my side. In my opinion they are absolutely the best pets ever. As with any pets if you rescue them from a shelter, you could get some surprises. Cats like any other animals if treated badly or abused never forget it. If you adopt from a shelter, be prepared to deal with the issues they bring into the relationship. If you spend the time, you can bring them around and you’ll be even closer to them than you would’ve been without all of those problems. I’ll recommend to anyone a shelter cat and would never turn one way. Pets are to be enjoyed but as with anything you must put forth the appropriate effort to welcome them into your family.
It’s again time to visit the statements of past men of achievement. Only in studying their words and thoughts can we appreciate or detest our current leaders and circumstances. Joe Biden our current president, is just a poor copy of Barack Obama who himself was a poor copy of Jimmy Carter. Biden is slowly but surely sinking into a legacy much like his Democratic idols which will do the country more harm than good. He will likely accomplish more once he leaves office than he ever was able to accomplish while in office. At least those accomplishments won’t be paid for by our hard-earned tax dollars. Let’s hear from a few past leaders now.
“He who is the greatest among you shall be your servant; whoever exalts himself will be humbled, and whoever humbles himself will be exalted. “ Jesus (AD first century) Matthew 23:11-12
“The public does not in the long run respect leaders who mirror its own insecurities or see only the symptoms of crisis rather than the long-term trends. The role of leader is to assume the burden of acting on the basis of a confidence in his own assessment of the direction of events and how they can be influenced.” Henry A Kissinger, Diplomacy, 5, 1994
“He is a man of his most recent word.” William F Buckley Junior
“[A] sheep in sheep’s clothing” Winston Churchill 1976
“A leader or a man of action in a crisis almost always acts subconsciously and then thinks of the reasons for his action.” Jawaharial Nehru (1889-1964)
I’ve written many postings about the Christmas season over the years and as I recently read back through them, they appeared varied, somewhat interesting, and some even boring. I hate to admit that I was ever boring but there are times when Christmas can be a huge pain in the butt. I just don’t get the “buzz” like I did when I was a kid and it still amazes me that some people (without kids) turn into Christmas fanatics and go wild over it. I loved Christmas as a young child but each year I lost a little of the holiday magic everyone seems to be searching for. It saddens me a little but “it is what it is”. The only real enjoyment for me now is when the young grandchildren are running through the house wearing Christmas apparel and having a grand old time. I thoroughly enjoy living vicariously through them.
After my last two years of medical problems, I didn’t feel things would ever be getting any better. The years, 2019 and 2020, drained away what little fun I had left in me. If not for my better-half and a few other close family members I might not have survived to enjoy Christmas 2021, for that I am eternally grateful.
All of that being said, it’s time to prepare for the holidays once again. With the pandemic still gumming up the works I’m not sure what direction to take. Now that I’m cancer free you’d think I’d be ready to celebrate the hell out of just about anything. After the experiences of the last two years I’ve entered a phase in my life that was totally unexpected. I’ve become calmer, more thoughtful, and seriously introspective.
The grandchildren are no longer toddlers and are becoming actual people. They now can speak their minds and voice their feelings like never before. While I find that refreshing it makes my preparations for the holiday a little more troublesome. My education continues but now they are the teachers and I’m the student.
I now know more about Pokémon and the thousands of cards involved with that experience. It’s supposed to be a game but I have no idea what the rules are. I think he’s just messing with me because he seems to win every game. Which cards are rare and which ones are crappy, who knows?
I’ve seen the Alvin & the Chipmunks movie a hundred times and have been hearing that theme song in my head for five years. I find myself humming it at the oddest times, in the shower and while I’m cutting grass. Don’t even get me started about “Lady and the Tramp”.
I’ll bet you any amount of money that I know more about the cartoon “Larva” than anyone you know over the age of 15. I actually found myself purchasing a “Larva” tee shirt three years ago that the grandson wanted to give to his grandmother. Apparently, it was a bigger hit than I anticipated since she still wears it occasionally in odd moments.
I’ve also been coerced into becoming a soccer fan. I’ve hated soccer with a passion and have avoided it for most of my life. Not anymore unfortunately. Both grandsons have decided that soccer is a great game but it’s always much more fun when family members come to the games to cheer them on. So, my newest job is the official family sports photographer. I get to sit and watch groups of five-six-seven-eight-year-old boys and girls playing “at” soccer. Just shoot me now. It’s finally improving this year since they’ve added a real game to their curriculum, baseball. This I actually enjoy watching.
I guess I should be happy. Those boys have enough energy for us all and I think it’s rubbing off on me a little. They now have me looking forward to a Christmas I wasn’t sure I’d ever get to celebrate.
Celebrities are once again the subject of a post. I’m still amazed at how many people in this country live and die or gossip about celebrities. I suppose the quotation “get a life” no longer has much meaning. If I wanted to bore you by listing celebrities who died young from drug overdoses, plane crashes, or sheer stupidity, I’d be here writing forever. Today’s topic is the amount of death that seems to follow celebrities on a regular basis. There are times when being around a celebrity is also life-threatening as you’ll see as you review this list of interesting facts and how dangerous it can be as a hanger-on. Here we go . . .
In 2003 a rapper named Big Lurch was convicted of the murder and partial consumption of his roommate while under the influence of PCP.
In 1978, Oscar-winning actor Gig Young shot his fourth wife to death in their New York City apartment and then turned the gun on himself.
In 2001 actress Rebecca Gayheart struck and killed a nine-year-old pedestrian with her car in Los Angeles. She pled no contest to vehicular manslaughter and was sentenced to three years probation and a fine
In 1963, future first lady Laura Welsh Bush ran a stop sign and accidentally crashed her car into the vehicle of a 17-year-old man, killing him.
In 1936, eccentric billionaire-to-be Howard Hughes struck and killed a pedestrian in Los Angeles.
In 1984, Motley Crue lead singer Vince Neil was arrested for drunk driving and vehicular manslaughter after he crashed into an oncoming car his passenger was killed and two occupants of the other vehicle were injured.
At age 12, future Illinois governor and presidential candidate Adlai Stevenson shot and killed a 16-year-old girl when his gun went off accidentally.
Boxing promoter Don King killed two people. One murder was ruled justifiable because King was being robbed at the time. He spent four years in prison for the stomping death of a second man.
In 1978 punk rocker Sid vicious of the group, Sex Pistols, stabbed to death his girlfriend, Nancy Spungen, Vicious died of a heroin overdose before he could be brought to trial.
In 2009, famed record producer Phil Spector was convicted of the murder of Alanna Clarkson. He is currently serving a prison term of 19 years to life.
In 2002 a wrapper C-Murder, a.k.a. Cory Miller, was found guilty for beating and shooting a 16-year-old boy who had allegedly embarrassed Miller during a club’s rap contest.
In 1987, actor Matthew Broderick killed two women in Northern Ireland when his car veered into the oncoming lane.
In 1951 writer William S Burroughs shot and killed his common-law wife, Joan Vollmer. He claimed he was trying to shoot a glass off of Vollmer’s head and missed. He was found guilty of manslaughter and sentenced to two years but only served two weeks behind bars.
In 1927 Tony award-winning actor Paul Kelly spent more than two years in prison after beating another man to death with a club. Kelly later married the dead man’s widow.
In 1970 Keith Moon, the late drummer of The Who, accidentally ran over and killed his bodyguard while fleeing attackers. Moon was not charged.
I could go on and on but there’ve been so many others it would take forever to list them all but my point has been made. If you’re going to idolize and worship the never-ending supply of celebrities and those who are seeking their 15 min. of fame, do it from a distance. It’s much safer that way.
Since posting the real letters of a real Pilgrim yesterday I thought I’d covered the holiday rather well. Today I did a little net surfing and made the mistake of reading the Wikipedia entry on the history of Thanksgiving. It irritates me a little when they spend so much time telling me about some meaningless conflict over where Thanksgiving originated. In their opinion 36 colonists arriving in Virginia in 1619 gave thanks that they survived the crossing and years later it was claimed by some Virginians as the birth place of Thanksgiving. I just don’t see that as the real Thanksgiving. Did they celebrate with the native Americans? Who knows? Did any of them survive that first winter? Who knows? Maybe in 1000 A.D. Leif Ericson and a few Vikings landed in northern Maine and were thankful for not running out of food and water. Was that the real Thanksgiving? Now that I think about it, how about Ponce de Leon. He landed in Florida in late March of 1513, near present-day St. Augustine. He claimed this beautiful land for Spain and I’m sure he gave thanks for surviving his arrival. Then we must of course celebrate Thanksgiving as a Spanish holiday in March. Really, I think I’d prefer to celebrate that Viking holiday in Maine as the real one compared something Spanish. These kinds of arguments are all so much hogwash and an entire waste of everyone’s time.
I wasn’t planning a rant against Wikipedia but once again I want it understood I’m skeptical of a lot of their information, but that’s just my humble opinion.
Why I’m even bothering to rant is the real question. Well, I once lived in Kingston, Massachusetts, just a few short miles from where the Mayflower is berthed in Plymouth harbor. A few of my friends were actual descendants of the Wampanoag Indian tribe who assisted the Pilgrims back in the day. I was lucky enough to hear from them about their version of Thanksgiving. I’ve visited the Plimouth Plantation on many occasions and once even ate Thanksgiving dinner there with some family and friends. Screw Wikipedia and their politically correct nonsense.
The traditional celebration is one of the few holidays left that has actual meaning for me. I just can’t allow that tradition to be watered down with a lot of political nonsense. Enjoy your holiday with your friends and family. Give thanks for every good thing you can think of. Have a great meal and a pleasant day and hug your kids.
Just as a side note. I won’t be posting tomorrow because I’ll be doing all of those things myself.
With Thanksgiving only two days away I thought you might find this little bit of our history appropriate. Being a lover of history has been a source of pleasure for me for many years. I love reading about anything historical especially everything I could find on the United States and how it was created. We’re coming up on one of my most favorite holidays, Thanksgiving. In my mind it was the only holiday that we had that meant something real to me. People giving thanks for the things in their life that needed to be appreciated and shared with friends and family. To show appreciation for the many good things and good people that have impacted our lives in the last year and before.
I sometimes think how many of our holidays have changed in the eyes of the citizenry. Christmas went from being a religious celebration of the birth of Christ and turned into an insanely greedy holiday about gifts and presents. Thanksgiving always meant much more to me than any holiday for all of the best reasons. Time with family and friends that was hard to come by most of the year. When Thanksgiving came everyone showed up regardless of any interruptions from outside influences like work and business. It was quality time for me and mine which was sorely lacking most of the year. It was time to eat grandma’s special gravy of which she never gave anyone that recipe. It was the goal of all of the younger generations to somehow convince her to give that up but the old girl took it to her grave except for a few hints she gave me. I make a one helluva gravy but it’s still not as good as hers.
These days Thanksgiving is just a prelude to shopping. I’d like to meet the guy that came up with the Black Friday nonsense and beat him senseless. I hate to say this but there might be one plus coming out of this pandemic and that is the hope that Thanksgiving will return to what it was in years past. Most of the younger generations now know little or nothing about the history of how Thanksgiving became Thanksgiving and all of the people that suffered and died to make the first one happen. I’m finishing this post with three letters written by a young lady named Lizzy to her aunt Constance. The first letter was written during the crossing from England to Plymouth on the Mayflower, the second is about her arrival and the setup of the colony, and the third is concerning the first Thanksgiving celebration with the local Indians. Put yourself in her place as you read these letters and show or read them to your children or grandchildren. It’ll give all of you a better understanding and perspective on what it actually means to be thankful for something. I hope you enjoy them.
LETTER #1
Dearest Aunt Constance,
You wondered what life in a ship would be like. I can now tell you, I would trade my bed for yours in the beat of a heart! I sleep on a damp bed in a tiny cabin with mother and father. We are all packed in like so much cargo below deck. We do not know many of the other passengers, yet we live nearly on top of each other. Few of us have ever been aboard a ship, and there is much seasickness. The stench is most awful! I welcome the times when we are allowed to go on deck to empty our chamber pots and breathe the fresh air.
When the weather is fair, the days are much the same. We pray as we rise in the morning and before and after we take our meals. For food we commonly have pease or bean pottage, cheese and ship’s biscuit. For drink, we have beer. We have some water but they say it will soon go bad.
Did I tell you that I have a friend? Her name is Mary and I am so grateful for her. Mary and I play games, tell riddles, sing or just speak to each other. It is often too dark to even read. There are few other lasses on the ship since most families left their daughters behind until our town is built. The sailors will sometimes allow us on deck, but they are a hard lot and frighten me somewhat. Master Goodman brought his two dogs—a mastiff and a spaniel—and we chase them as they chase the mousers that chase the rats. Have I made mention of the rats? They are almost as great in size as the mousers!
May the Lord help us when the weather is not fair. Father told me that sailors usually seek safe harbor in the autumn and now I know why. The storms are fearsome! They roll and toss our poor ship which creaks and moans as though it will break apart. My arms and legs are bruised from being thrown about and having things fall on me. In one storm, a young man was thrown into the sea, but by God’s good will he caught hold of a line that was dragging in the water and was saved. Just a fortnight ago came the worst storm yet. Aunt Constance, I thought we would all surely drown and become food for the fishes. The ship’s upper works were leaking and of a sudden there was a great snap! Master Carver told us that one of the ship’s main beams had cracked. Many of the crew wanted to turn back, but after much consultation, t’was decided that we would continue . The carpenters and sailors mended the beam and caulked the leaks.
Thus we put our faith in God and we press on. I do not think that I can stand such a fright again. I pray that we reach the New World soon.
Your loving niece,
Lizzy
LETTER #2
Dearest Aunt Constance,
I was so grateful to arrive in the New World, but I am now beginning to wish that we had never left home. I know that father had a hard life in England because he was punished for following his conscience and worshipping in the Separatist Church, but I wonder if it could have been as hard as this.
We arrived here just as winter did. It is bitter cold and snow is almost always upon the ground, but God has blessed us with a place to start our new town. There is a fair brook running under a high hill that Father says will offer us protection from our enemies. The men have begun building houses on land, but we must remain on the ship until they are nearer to being finished. I never thought I would still be aboard the ship for so long after we arrived! I suppose it is safer on the ship. I know not what to think of the naturals of this place that are called Indians. The first time some of our men encountered them, there was a fight though by God’s blessing no one was injured. We are on our guard now.
Master Goodman—the one with the dogs—has become quite ill. He was out cutting thatch with Peter Brown when his dogs chased a great deer deep into the forest. They chased after them and were soon lost, and had to pass the night in the wilderness. When they found their way back the next afternoon, Master Goodman had to have his shoes cut off his feet as they were so swollen with the cold. Many of our party have already died, among them Mary’s mother and father. I cannot think how lost I would be in this strange and frightful place without mother and father. I pray that they will not succumb to scurvy and other diseases. I mean not to be so grim, but I fear that things could get far worse. We are near to scraping the bottoms of the barrels of rice, peas, and biscuit, and the men have had little fortune in hunting. I am worried, though I know that with God’s help we will survive this dark winter.
Your loving niece,
Lizzy
LETTER #3
Dearest Aunt Constance,
Pray forgive me for being so long between letters. After the great sickness it seemed that there was little good to write about. By the time spring arrived, nearly half of our number had died. Twas truly a mournful time. Since then we have continued to build houses and have planted our gardens and many acres of our English corns. In time, I think we may come to prosper here. We have even begun to grow a curious corn that we call Indian corn or turkey wheat.
How we learned to grow this Indian corn was most unexpected. Last spring a tall Indian walked into our town, causing great alarm. To our great astonishment, he spoke in our tongue, saying “Welcome Englishmen.” He told us that his name was Samoset and that he had learned English from fishermen to the north of here. Samoset returned the next day with Tisquantum, whose English was as fine as yours and mine. Tisquantum told us how his people used to live where we now live, but that a few years before we arrived a plague had come and wiped out the town. He has been a great blessing to us, showing us how to grow Indian corn in mounds. He even told us to put herring in the ground to make the corn grow better. It works as well as using manure and our harvest was quite fine. Tisquantum also showed us how to fish and the best places to hunt. I fear that we would not have survived here were it not for the help of Tisquantum and others.
To celebrate our first harvest our Governor, Master Bradford, called for a celebration. Four men went hunting wild fowl and brought back enough geese, ducks and other birds to last nearly a week! We ate, played at games, and the men practiced shooting their muskets. The Indians came amongst us as well, among them their greatest King Massasoit and more than 90 men! I was most frightened at first, but they stayed for three days and we entertained and feasted them. And they went out and brought us five deer. While they were here I even saw some of their children! One boy, father says he thinks that his name is Po-met-a-comet, threw a ball to me. Of course he could not speak English and I could not speak the Indian tongue.
And now we have a new ship in the harbor! It is wonderful that we have new folk to settle here, but I fear that our harvest, which seemed plentiful enough, will not be enough for all of us and the newcomers. Father says that we will fill this ship full of timber and furs to send back to England. Perhaps on the next ship they will send over cows!
Dearest Aunt Constance, I truly hope that you will come to join us in New Plimoth. I pray that soon we will be a thriving town.
everyuselessthing.com 