I was last here in early spring with Hanah, Liza and Sergay. Yesterday they moved into a new house with a big back yard full of irises, Japanese Cherry Trees and River Birch. You can sit on their big back porch and watch the yellow finches and cardinals bounching around on the limbs.
I have stopped here on my way home. It is no longer summer. The leaves are turning yellow and red and falling to the forest floor. Big acorns are plopping all around.
Here is where Colonel Campbell and his 910 patriots from Virginia joined with the rough men from the Carolinas to rout the British troops. There were three African American patriot soldiers as well.
And here on the saddle of the ridge where the British were camped, Patrick Ferguson was shot eight times, a perfect target in his red and white checkered duster. Three men from each side gathered beside his body to witness his passing. A stone marks where he fell. I carried a small rock and tossed it on his cairn which was what we did when I was as child. Later I heard it was considered disrespectful to throw a rock onto the big pile, but for me, it is a ritual of remembrance of the brave Scottish soldier and of the past as well.
Boofa is in solitary confinement( meaning not going on walks) since he attacked the big white lab puppy. Boofa is a wired dog and may need mood balancing medication. I talked to the breeder who sold him to me and she told me that cockers have this tendency and that she was recently bitten while trying to take two female dogs apart in a fight.
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