Thursday, June 9, 2011

Meta

My initial plan was to post once a week, maybe a story chapter or maybe some history or ethnology, etc. Realistically, I seem to manage 1 story chapter a month so that's the plan from now on. At the same time I plan on posting one "other" type post a month as well.

BTW, feel free to comment!!! What would you like to see more of for example? And are the Swedes who come here just looking for my  Vänsterpartiblogg or do some of y'all stay and read about South Carolina?!!!

Friday, June 3, 2011

Uneasy times

He looked somewhat disdainfully at the them both and said, “Captain Chavis will meet with you now. Assuming of course that you two are finished with your sartorial discourse.” Captain Willie suspected he saw a slight smirk on the man’s face as he turned away but he could have been mistaken.

The wooden fort contained more of the same inside. Same log walls, log cabins, wooden benches made from sturdy hardwood. Captain Willie followed his guide into one of the larger cabins where Captain Chavis awaited them. He was somewhat stout and smoked a pipe but otherwise was dressed much the same as his men in tunic and leggings. He strode towards Captain Willie, hand extended.
“Ah, you must be the new courier we were told to expect.”
Captain Willie shrugged, “Courier, taxi service, postal service, conveyor of packages both large and small.”
“I see,” although Captain Chavis clearly didn’t. “Please join us and dine. Then we can discuss your business.” He gestured towards a fairly large table across the room from the open door.
“This is my lieutenant, Martin Turner,” mentioned Captain Chavis.
The tall indian then took a seat at the table as the two captains each settled into a chair.

First they ate a hearty meal of bean bread, apple cobbler and venison. Captain Willie knew from long experience that there was no point in trying to hurry the process. Besides, this was his second “home cooked” meal in two days!. The Sandflea had tinned and dried foods and not much variety in them. Why not make the most of the opportunity?

“That was real good, y’all. Now let’s down to some business. Maybe you can tell me if you Cherokee have seen some weird goings on?”
“Tsalagi”
“Huh? What’s that? Somethin’ you’ve run-across in the woods?”
“Tsalagi is our name for ourselves. Cherokee is the name outsiders use.”
“You don’t say. Really? Somebody might of told me. Didn’t mean to be rude,” said Captain Willie.
“Yeah, we’ve seen a few things. And Captain Ross wouldn’t have taken her ship this far into the mountains without a damn good reason.”
“Funny, that’s what she said about the Virginian ship,” remarked Captain Willie.
Captain Chavis hmmphed his agreement but his companion was slightly more communicative.
“What do you think is goin’ on?”
“No notion and that’s what makes me twitchy. I don’t know what to expect. Don’t even know what to watch out for. We’re headin’ southeast down to the coast and then southwards to Charleston. And I aim to keep a real sharp eye on the border while I’m at it.”
“We’ve had reports from almost all our scouts that have noticed oddities. The remains of campfires where none of us have reason to build them. Abandoned hunting blinds where one of us would not normally be hunting. No signs of a sucessful hunt either. We patrol more often now and perhaps that has settled the matter. Even so, we caution all our folk to stay close to home and not to go alone to gather wild plants in the woods.”

Monday, April 25, 2011

Finally!

The Captain waved at the two guards lounging at the Border Station compound as soon as he came into their line of vision. He knew they were suspicious of strangers and figured there was no point in putting them more on edge while they were already concerned about shady activities in the area.

“Hey y’all! I’m Willie James, captain of the Sandflea airship. I’m here to catch-up on news with y’all.”

Two men stood outside the fort’s front gate with the shorter one leaning against the left-side gatepost. Both men were dressed similarly in long cotton-print shirts belted at the waistline, bandoleers and gaiter-leggings. One wore red leggings and the other brown, each fastened with colourful woven bands.

As he came closer one of the guards looked at Captain Willie and then silently turned on his heel and entered the compound . The other, shorter man continued standing where he was without offering any particular greeting as Captain Willie approached.

“We’ve been expecting you, “ he said.
“Yeah, well we a bit delayed so to speak. That’s what I need to talk to y’all about. There’s some weird shit goin’ on and I reckon y’all know more about it than I do.”
“Why’s that? You’re the one with that fancy airship. Why don’t ya just fly-up real high and check things out from above?”
“Not a bad idea at all except that all we’d see around here is treetops. Besides the air currents aren’t too friendly in these mountains.”
“Yeah.”
“When’s your friend comin’ back and lettin’ me in the fort?”
“Soon.”
“What’s your name anyway?”
“Little John.”
“Nah, really. Like in Robin Hood?”
“Yes, really. And no, nothing to do with Robin Hood. Do I look like a Merry Man to you?” The Captain was forced to agree that he didn’t and they waited in silence for a while.

“Nice turban,” he said to break the silence and pointed at the aforementioned headgear. That prompted a smile from Little John.
The shorter man nodded at Captain Willie’s moccasins. “You tryin’ to play Indian or somethin’?”
“Naw, you try climbing up and down a rope ladder in hard-soled shoes!”

At that point the second Indian returned.

Thursday, March 17, 2011

Border Station

Because the Mountain Pass Border Station was perched on an escarpment, Captain Willie moored the Sandflea some distance away in a relatively open area. The area where the airship was moored was quite small and the Sandflea bobbed in the local air currents hard enough to nearly hit the trees once in a while. He was the only one to leave the airship and make the short hike to the Border Station.


The Captain grumbled slightly to himself as he made his way down a footpath to the Station. Because the Blue Ridge Mountains are ancient, their peaks are rounded and well-worn. The trees here were mostly oak and hickory and pine and their leaves formed a thick coating on the ground. Unfortunately, copperhead snakes also liked the area and easily blended in with the leaves. The woods are inhabited by black bears, red wolves and mountain lions, none of which our dauntless captain cared to meet while on foot! Fortunately Captain Willie arrived at the Border Station unscathed but out of breath.












**************
Note: I found these photographs at Wikicommons and do NOT own the copyrights to them!
First picture:
({{Information |Description={{en|1=A backcountry campsite at Deep Gap in the Black Mountains of North Carolina, in the southeastern United States.}} |Source=Own work by uploader |Author=Brian Stansberry |Date=5/28/2007 |Permission= |other_)
Second picture:
(== Summary == Reconstructed Fort Randolph, Point Pleasant, West Virginia, photographed 2005. == Licensing == {{GFDL-user-en|Kevin Myers}}

Thursday, February 17, 2011

Carolina Foodways: Akara

Black-eyed Peas (aka Cowpeas Vigna unguiculata) originated in Africa and were brought to North America during the slave trade. Slave ship captains saw that more of their human cargo survived the Middle Passage when fed their traditional foods and provisioned accordingly. The best source for information on African foodways in North and South America is Judith Carney's work:
In the Shadow of Slavery: Africa's Botanical Legacy in the Atlantic World (2009) and
Black Rice: the African Origins of Rice Cultivation in the Americas (2001).

The first time I served this recipe to a guest he exclaimed that he thought people only ate Black-eyed Peas in the American South. I responded by asking "how do you think they got here?"

AKARA (Black-eyed Pea Balls)
(serves 4)
1 cup fresh (or soaked until they are soft) black-eye peas
1 egg
1/2 of a small onion, finely chopped
1/2 tsp chili pepper
1/2 salt
? wheat flour
oil for frying.
Lazy soul that I am, I just toss all the above into a bowl and puree it with a blender (or you could use a food processor). I add a bit of wheat flour as thickener to the dough because the presoaked black-eyed peas can be a bit soggy. Remember, you want a thick dough! Fry in oil at 190 C (375 F) degrees until golden brown, then drain on paper towels.

I took this recipe from The Africa News Cookbook: African Cooking for Western Kitchens (1985) so it is far less spicy than in Nigeria. Feel free to increase the pepper; I do! The recipe book says this the above amount serves 4 but I love these so much that I multiply the amounts by 3 or 4 times with no problem.

Saturday, January 8, 2011

Time to Go

As he climbed back through the Sandflea’s hatch Captain Willie’s crew peppered him with questions.

“What did she say? What’s going on? You were gone for two hours! What did y’all talk about all that time?”

“Just one damn minute here! Let me catch my breath will ya?” Captain Willie shook his head. “There’s something goin’ on but doesn’t look like anyone knows. Just have to see what they say at the Border Station. Everyone to your posts, we're not wastin' any more time here!" He snapped.

Thursday, December 23, 2010

Captain Ross. . .continued

Araminta Ross continued, “Something’s afoot alright, but especially just here at the northern border. Or do you really think that the King Jesus just happened to be in the neighbourhood?” Captain Ross narrowed her eyes. “We’ve been playing hide-and-seek with them for weeks. Wish I knew what they are up to.”
“You know the Cherokee don’t like to volunteer information to outsiders. I doubt they’ll say anything more to me than to you.”
“You just use some of that famous Captain Willie charm on them and see if they don’t warm-up to you.” Captain Ross stood up and offered her right hand. “Good luck to you and your crew.” She waved Captain Willie out of the alcove, taking a notebook out of one of the multitude of pockets on her tunic-dress as she turned away from him.

The tiny man who had guided Captain Willie to Captain Ross’ alcove mysteriously reappeared despite not having been summoned (at least not by any method that Willie knew). Just to break the silence Captain Willie made an attempt at conversation.
“What’s your name and are you doin’ here?”
“This way out,” gestured the small man and turned away. He glanced back over his shoulder and said, “They call me Little James. Come on now! Down this latter.”
“This ain’t the same way we came in.”
“No, it’s quicker. We’ve outa here as soon as you are off this airship.”

After navigating a bewildering maze of bulkheads, cargo nets hanging from the ceiling and boxes containing godknowswhat, Captain Willie was back at the hatch and heading down the rope-ladder.