An Outing

The evening took us away from our house and to an event hall filled with people, many of whom we knew.

The occasion was the celebration of a friend's 25th year in business. She is a massage therapist (with emphasis on the therapist), and now about 64 years old. I saw her for many years, and sent my husband to see her, and gave gift certificates to friends and family to enjoy her services (though I suspect most of those went unused, stuffed in some drawer).

It is unusual for a massage therapist to last so long; they generally wear out, from what I understand. Bing says the average career of a massage therapist is 5 to 8 years. The fact that Karen has worked for long - and kept herself in shape so that she was able to do it - was indeed something to celebrate. Giving a massage is hard work.

Despite the fact that we have 33,000 people in our county, it's really a small community. The event was held at the Kyle House, once known as Bolton's Store, in the county seat. The building is an events venue, and there were easily 50 plus people there when we arrived.

Since the most public places I have been since 2019 are grocery stores, this was a bit much for me; the sweet, cloying scent of perfumes, powders, and colognes, so many people in a smaller space than a massive market.

But I had accepted the invitation knowing that I am trying to claw my way back to civilization, having become almost - but not quite - agoraphobic during the pandemic, seldom leaving the house, only venturing out to purchase food. As for other items, let's just say the UPS man and I are on a first-name basis.

So, this was a personal test, which I passed. I am grateful that I went, happy to have seen so many familiar faces after so many years of seeing only scowls in the supermarket. These people were happy, caring on pleasant conversations, and enjoying themselves.

The people I knew included my physical therapist, whom I hadn't seen since 2019. She suffocated me in an embracing and long hug the moment I walked in the door. I stiffened at first, having determined previously that I didn't want physical contact, but she was so sincere, and I like her so much that it was only a moment of light panic, and then I hugged her back with similar intensity. 

I also saw a former county supervisor, whom I'd really enjoyed working with and was sorry to see retire many years ago, a cousin who said she wants to meet for coffee, my dear friend Leslie (another hug) and her brother, who informed us he had retired as a surveyor that very day, (I also called him by another brother's name, oops), and an ex-husband of another dear friend. I also greeted a former employer and his wife, a contractor and his wife, both of whom have known my husband most of his life, a former high school pal, a former firefighter's wife, and of course Karen, who was throwing herself this bash.

I had a couple of chicken salad sandwiches and a cookie, along with water. A pile of articles about Karen sat on the end of one table, and I only had to flip over a page before I saw my byline, again and again. I've written so much about this county and its people over the last 30 years. Of course I'd written about Karen. In fact, I wrote the first article about Karen's business, I think.

My former employer (a lawyer then, retired now) saw one of the articles and then chased me down to show me. "Here's your name," he said, thrusting the story at me. He pointed it out to someone I didn't know. "She wrote this."

Yes, I wrote that. It was nice to know it meant something to someone, or several someones, even though it was years old.

No one had on masks, including me. Everyone is over that, although I still wear one when I go pick up drugs at the drug counter. If there are going to be germs anywhere, it's in there. I had a mask in my pocket, but I didn't put it on (I admit it was tempting).

Almost everyone was dressed up, in nice work clothes or church clothes, including us (although I had on my sneakers because I can't get my orthotic in any other shoe). I enjoyed myself. My husband enjoyed it. We left after an hour, with things still going full swing, when I finally felt the perfumes and smells seeping into my lungs and felt an asthmatic wheeze coming on.

I guess I'm coming out into the world again.

The Bolton Bible

These photos are of the Bolton Bible. This is my husband's side of the family. They once owned the land we farm. His many great-grandfather on his great-grandmother's side purchased the property in 1859.

I do not know a lot of about these folks as I haven't pursued that line very far. A distant cousin in California found us and she shared these pictures with us. She had located the family Bible and now has it in her possession. She has become the family historian, although she is not from the same son as our line. The relationship goes further back.

The last photo is a picture of a piece of paper that was in the Bible. I cannot make out what it says.

This did make me wonder if there is a family Bible for my lineage, like my mother's and father's. I don't know of a family Bible for either parent. My mother is dead but I shall have to remember to ask my father the next time I talk to him. If there was a family Bible, that doesn't mean anyone in his line has it. It could have found its way to Memphis, for all I know.

I had planned to do more genealogy work this spring as we revved up our county celebrations for its 250th birthday. Those plans all derailed with the pandemic and my husband's retirement. I have information on a few specific lines but I am missing much on my father's side of the family along with several branches on my mother's side. I would like to sort out my husband's lineage as well, as it does not appear anyone but me has an interest in it.

It is a time consuming project and not one I wanted to get into while worrying over diseases and retiring husbands. My ol' brain can only stand so much stress.

However, it is on my list of things to work on.

Sunday Stealing

Sunday Stealing

1. Have you ever known anyone that’s been on tv, including you?

A. Yes. I have been on TV myself and one of my friends' husband is a TV news anchor. I met a lot of TV news reporters who were covering the same story as I was when I was a print journalist. I have also met several Virginia governors, who of course were on TV all the time, and our current member of the state House of Delegates, who is also on TV a great deal, hugs me when he sees me.

2. What do you find yourself buying all the time?

A. Chocolate and books.

3. When was the last time you got a real letter in the mail?

A. Saturday, sort of. I have a friend who sends out mass letters about her life on a quarterly basis.

4. Have you ever lived in a house/apartment that has been broken into?

A. No.

5. Did you walk to school with your friends? Take a school bus? Ever have someone carry your books home from school?

A. I rode a bus until I started high school. Then my mother dropped me off in the mornings on her way to work (she drove right past the high school) and rode the bus home. Then after I turned 16, I drove myself to school. I don't recall anyone ever carrying my books home from school.

6. Do you like pumpkin seeds? Do you carve the pumpkin and roast the seeds? Do you buy packaged, prepared pumpkin seeds?

A. I will eat pumpkin seeds but I don't go out of my way to do so. I haven't carved a pumpkin in years.

7. Does your car or did a family car have a name?

A. No.

8. The first week of October was National Mystery Series Week. Do you sleuth alongside Nancy Drew or Miss Marple? Fan of Nero Wolfe?

A. I was a fan of Nancy Drew and haven't yet checked out the new series but I taped it and am waiting to do so. Otherwise not a fan of the two mentioned, but I liked Sue Grafton's books.

9. Have you ever spent ages writing something on your computer when it suddenly crashed and you lost it all?

A. I have. However, I have my backup settings set to save every 10 minutes now.

10. Are you one of those people who can sleep through anything?

A. No. My husband can, but I cannot.

11. What type or kind of art do you like? And do you draw or paint yourself?

A. I like most any kind of art, even stuff that I don't understand or find weird. I do not draw or paint but I color. I like to color.

12. If you went to London, where would you go first?

A. I would visit my friend who lives in Bolton which is not London but it is in England. If I have to stay in London, then I suppose I would go see Big Ben.

13. What is one quote that you love to quote?

A. "Not all who wander are lost." - J.R.R. Tolkien.

14. Do you ever at times see the world in black and white?

A. My eyes are still working well enough that I see colors.

15. Do you believe there is life somewhere else in the universe?

A. Yes. It might not be life like we understand it, but I think that it would not be farfetched to find life of some sort. We will likely never get there, though. We're not that advanced.

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I encourage you to visit other participants in Sunday Stealing posts and leave a comment. Cheers to all us thieves who love memes, however we come by them.

Crazy Quilt - 1885

One of the more interesting aspects of my life as I have lived it is that I see a lot of things and am asked a lot of things. Usually I don't know the answer. I am smart because I know I don't know the answers and so I look things up or seek answers. It is what it is.

Anyway, recently I was asked to look at a crazy quilt at the Botetourt County History Museum in Fincastle. The reasoning was that because I am a Firebaugh I would have some idea about quilts donated by Firebaughs.

The quilt has a date of 1885 on it. I am not that old! I'm afraid I am not much help with this particular query.

Apparently this particular quilt was made by Boozes or Zimmermans, both familiar names to the area. I am taking a guess at that because of the Bs and Zs on the quilt.  I suppose it could be Bolton. How it ended up being associated with Firebaugh I do not know, although the Firebaughs and Boltons are related.

An old card, created probably in the early 1990s, indicated the quilt was donated by Firebaughs and there was a question as to whether or not it was created/made or otherwise involved with Willie Firebaugh who was a daughter of a Major Firebaugh (CSA), so I suppose that is where the inquiry came from.

The piece is very delicate but exquisitely sewn. I am not a person familiar with quilting nor do I know much about textile work, but I can tell fine needlework when I see it. This included what looked like embroidery and other types of needlework as well as simply quilting.

I suspect this piece needs to be reviewed by a textile historian.

Here are photos:

The Bolton Cemetery

When you live on a farm that has been in operation since before 1800, there is a bit of history there.

A piece of that history lies on the ridge. We call it Cemetery Hill because that is where the Bolton Cemetery is.

The cemetery is in a state of disrepair.

The stone reads:

The soul has now taken its flight

To mansions of glory above.

To mingle with angels of light

And walk in the kingdom of love.

This stone says: In remembrance of Mary K. Bolton, Born May 1, 1821, Died May 19, 1915. I am not able to read the epitaph below.

This stone has four names around it, apparently children of Henry Bolton. The farm, called Rose Hill Farm, was once owned by the Boltons. These people are some relation to my husband's family.

I had not been near this cemetery in years. I did not realize it was in such a sorry state.

Not particularly spooky, eh?

The Barn

This barn has stood on Rose Hill Farm since 1860. That's the date found cut into the logs on this side of the structure.

The barn was covered with clapboard and had been used up until a few years ago. This side of the barn began falling in as the logs slipped from the foundation and it became unsafe.

My father-in-law owns the barn. He listed it for sale in the paper. Someone purchased it and will move it to Bent Mountain, as I understand it, to make a log cabin of it.

These are the logs with the date "1860" carved in it. Below is the name E. E. Shaw 1901, which must be the date something was added.

Most likely the barn was built by Henry Bolton, who purchased the property in 1859. He is buried in a cemetery on the farm.

The house that stands on the land was built prior t0 1816 and is made of bricks allegedly made from slave labor on the farm.