So, we have returned from our mini vacation to Stone Mountain. I must say, it was most definitely worth the trip. Its not every day you can watch a real live kitchen from the 1800’s in action. They were cooking a Christmas turkey over a Bell Fire-pit/fireplace, along with homemade Hot Apple Cider, real honest to goodness Gingerbread, and had the authentic Christmas pudding cooking in the boiled cloth in the boiling water…how cool is that. We were lucky enough to be given samples of the Hot cider and gingerbread..in a word awesome..nom nom nom nom. They were dressed in period as well, and the three of them were in continuous motion while elaborating what they were doing and why. I pried for their recipes, however, the level of secrecy there would rival that of the Sons of Priory. So, I had to make do with watching, savoring the samples, and enjoying the scents that lingered on the air. Outback on the plantation was the old smokehouse, the slaves quarters, and a medicine house made only of Georgia clay and wood…yes, thats right, I didn’t spy a single nail in the structure. The petting farm was open as well. Inhabiting said farm were a few African pygmy goats, and some Norwegian dwarf goats, with some sheep, and pigs, and one very possessive and territorial kitty who seems to have been extremely camera shy. The goats were very friendly, as well as somewhat hungry for fabrics of various types. As one nibbled on my wifes pants, the other was determined to take a bite out of my leather coat. Needless to say, they both settled for some hay and a scratch behind the ear. The old stage coach and the frame of another coach proved an interesting photo op.
The rest of Stone Mountain was enjoyable as well, but not nearly as much. Sources say I could be seen sitting with the Snow Angel just before her big appearance in the parade, however, I say such things don’t happen to grown men. (*ahem). The big man himself made an appearance on his sleigh and was his normal jolly self.
The wife and I rode the tram to the top of said mountain, and viewed the area from above. While colder, I would much prefer living up there, than down in the mix of things. The altitude was great for clearly thinking that I have not written much here lately. So, on the tram ride down I vowed to complete 5000 words on DRC by the end of the month. Now, you may say thats not very much, you must also keep in mind that I will now have my two children home, and it’s cold outside so I can not kick them out. I also will be cooking the Christmas turkey myself as I do every holiday, and will be busily wrapping presents which must be placed every so carefully under the tree. Nevertheless, I will have my 5000 or more by the end of the month.
So, that’s it. Huh? What…oh. That’s right. Thanks for reminding me.
So, you want to know about the title…deforestation and the mountain. Well, the mountain is described above, and as for the deforestation…well my neighbor seems to have taken to war on his pine trees in his yard. For the last three days he has had a crew of tree killers out in his hard, and has since had them hack down 26, yes I said twenty six, of his pine trees, and has had them cut up into workable sections, then tossed into the chipper/shredder and turned into little bite size pieces of their former selves. Then the great stump-grinder made his appearance and erased all traces of their existence from the surface of the earth. Tis a shame, and extremely noisy. I will be glad when its done and over, but I am sorry to see all them wonderful oxygen producing members of our neighborhood die a most violent death.
OK. That’s all so far. Stews almost done, and I must warm the bread. Till ‘morrow. Night.
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Ah, well the innocence of being a child knows no better. But, since my minions will be hard at work tomorrow at their school, I must be hard at work as well. I have done the math, and the result is not to my liking. I will need to hit 1358 words per day, for the next 60 days (yes SIXTY) in order to finish DRC within my allotted time limit. This is just draft Zero mind you. So, in order for me to slice and dice that number down, I need to pound out closer to 2500 wpd. *wipes sweat from brow line*.
