Reviews of books that have held my interest. And things that happen along the way.
I have made it simpler to leave a comment. Just hit the comment selection and choose anonymous at the bottom- Or at my yahoo;
robertrswwilliams@yahoo.com
And let's not forget my friends at the Public Libraries!Most of my selections come from the Libraries listed on my sidebar. They are a great resource and a wonderful use of our tax dollars.
Have you hugged a Librarian today?
In an effort to remain current,we dispatched our correspondent, Stacey Redgrave, who happens to be my cousin and works cheaply, to London to cover the Royal Wedding. This postcard arrived yesterday. Notice the date and postmark. We will have to get all the details from her when she returns. The groom was an unemployed fellow by the name of William. Actually, I'm told that he is from a wealthy family. He married the elder Milligan daughter, Kate. We wish them all the best. Co-incidentally, these were the first names of my great-grandparents, William and Kate Williams. Meantime, on the local social scene, we have the following to report;
Our frog, has returned from his winter vacation home. It only took a couple of weeks, but he now comes willingly when called. He gained a bit of weight over the winter, but that's to be expected when you just lay about all day for several months. We're looking for a frog family, preferably in the area, with a young frog of their own, one who has not been in any significant trouble, to meet our frog. Who knows? They just might hit it off and make some beautiful frog music together.
Sue and I took a trip to Brattonsville, South Carolina yesterday. We have been meaning to visit this 38 structure town for quite awhile, but never seem to have gotten around to it. The town is a unique collection of buildings, most of which once belonged to the Bratton family. The 5 Bratton brothers came to America from Ulster in Northern Ireland sometime around 1730, first settling in the Pennsylvania area and then Virginia, before William Bratton and his wife Matha, purchased these 770 acres in present day York County in 1766. They immediately began to build for their growing family, which would eventually number 14 children. Not to mention William's 4 brothers.
The first home reflected the urgency of building something for a dwelling. It is a simple log cabin with a hearth on the first floor and an upstairs loft area for the kids to sleep. The most unusual part of this building is the latch on the OUTSIDE of the doorway leading to the children's sleeping area in the loft. I suppose that when Momma and Papa wanted to have some time alone, they just latched the kids in upstairs. Not a bad system when you think about it!
Eventually William and Martha needed a larger home, and so, they built one right next door. When that one grew cramped, they built an annex to it. After awhile, with all of the outbuildings, and dwellings, along with a store run by the family, there were 38 structures in all!
Historically, the property is significant, in that it played a key role on the road to Yorktown and the British surrender there. Brattonsville was the site of what is known as the "Battle of Huck's Defeat", which was fought on July 12th, 1780. William Bratton's slave, Watt, chanced upon the British troops under Huck's command. He was able to get back to William Bratton in time to summom all the local militia and defeat Huck, who was on his way to re-inforce Cornwallis in Virginia. A victory for him at Brattonsville might have changed the outcome of the war. There is a marker to Watt erected on the site of the Visitor's Center.
The real pleasure of this visit was the unhurried, and unescorted, pace. There were no tour guides moving groups of people about. It was a relaxing way to tour an historical site, an approach which allows the visitor to really absorb the novelty of living in the woods, far from the main roads. The property is still home to some goats, and I heard some chickens roosting about in one of the outbuildings.
But, the lizards were the best. Sue spotted them first, and I was lucky enough to become friendly with this red headed lizard, who allowed me to take numerous photos of him. Of course, I expected him to speak in an Australian accent and sell me insurance, but I would be a liar if I were to tell you that is what happened.
This little village really was self sufficent. Along with the hen house, the pastures for the sheep and cattle, alongside of the vegetable and herb gardens, and the smokehouse, was the most important building of all- the gin house, which allowed them to gin their own cotton, resulting in a larger profit from the cotton crop, which was the mainstay of the village. They even had a loom house, where they spun their own cotton into cloth.
This is a wonderful place to visit for a look back at what life was really like in the last days of the 18th Century. With it's lack of regimentation, it is the perfect way to spend a spring afternoon in the past.
For more about this historical village visit the website at;
The Lake Norman Chapter of Pickle Boat Racers held their First Annual Regatta yesterday. The entrants first gathered at Vinnie's Restaurant and Oyster Bar, located just across the road from the site of the race, which was held in Mooresville.
It was an exciting moment for Rooftop Reviews when we launched our own craft, the aptly named "RT". Though this year's version, which is based upon a Viking Longboat, sported a plain white sail, we hope that, by next year, we will be able to afford something a bit more flashy.
While we cannot announce that we took first prize in the Regatta, we are proud to inform you that we did manage to stay upright and afloat throughout the entire ordeal.
There are 2 versions of this song "La Vie en Rose" which will live forever. Louis Armstrong's version is my favorite- the plaintive sound of his coronet and the abbreviated lyrics make this a tight and soulful version of Edith Piaf's original recording of the song. These are the lyrics, as translated for Mr. Armstrong;
(Il existe 2 versions de cette chanson "La Vie en Rose" qui vivra éternellement. La version de Louis Armstrong est mon préféré-le son plaintif de sa couronne et le lyrics cette version abrégée un virage serré et soul de l'enregistrement original d'Edith Piaf de la chanson. Ce sont les paroles, traduit de M. Armstrong;)
Hold me close and hold me fast
The magic spell you cast
This is la vie en rose
When you kiss me heaven sighs
And tho I close my eyes
I see la vie en rose
When you press me to your heart
I'm in a world apart
A world where roses bloom
And when you speak...angels sing from above
Everyday words seem...to turn into love songs
Give your heart and soul to me
And life will always be
La vie en rose
This is the original version by Edith Piaf, the noted French chauntuse. The lyrics are a bit more complicated, but it was originally intended as a woman's song, which is why the lyrics of Mr. Armstrong's version were simplified.
(Il s'agit de la version originale par Edith Piaf, l'a noté chauntuse français. Les paroles sont un peu plus compliqué, mais il était initialement conçu comme un chant d'une femme, ce qui explique pourquoi les paroles de la version de M. Armstrong ont été simplifiées.)
(intro)
Des yeux qui font baisser les miens
Un rire qui se perd sur sa bouche
Voilà le portrait sans retouche
De l’homme auquel j’appartiens
Quand il me prend dans ses bras
Il me parle tout bas
Je vois la vie en rose
Il me dit des mots d’amour
Des mots de tous les jours
Et ça me fait quelque chose
Il est entré dans mon coeur
Une part de bonheur
Dont je connais la cause
C’est lui pour moi, moi pour lui dans la vie
Il me l’a dit, l’a juré pour la vie
Et dès que je l’aperçois
Alors je sens en moi
Mon coeur qui bat
Des nuits d’amour à plus finir
Un grand bonheur qui prend sa place
Les ennuis, les chagrins s’effacent
Heureux, heureux à en mourir
Quand il me prend dans ses bras
Il me parle tout bas
Je vois la vie en rose
Il me dit des mots d’amour
Des mots de tous les jours
Et ça me fait quelque chose
Il est entré dans mon coeur
Une part de bonheur
Dont je connais la cause
C’est toi pour moi, moi pour lui dans la vie
Il me l’a dit, l’a juré pour la vie
Et dès que je l’aperçois
Alors je sens en moi
Mon coeur qui bat
English
(intro)
Eyes that gaze into mine,
A smile that is lost on his lips—
That is the unretouched portrait
Of the man to whom I belong.
When he takes me in his arms
And speaks softly to me,
I see life in rosy hues.
He tells me words of love,
Words of every day,
And in them I become something.
He has entered my heart,
A part of happiness
Whereof I understand the reason.
It’s he for me and I for him, throughout life,
He has told me, he has sworn to me, for life.
And from the things that I sense,
Now I can feel within me
My heart that beats.
In endless nights of love,
A great delight that comes about,
The pains and bothers are banished,
Happy, happy to die of love.
When he takes me in his arms
And speaks softly to me,
I see life in rosy hues.
He tells me words of love,
Words of every day,
And in them I become something.
He has entered my heart,
A part of happiness
Whereof I understand the reason.
It’s he for me and I for him, throughout life,
He has told me, he has sworn to me, for life.
And from the things that I sense,
Now I can feel within me
My heart that beats.
My daughter Sarah, and her husband Michael, were out paddling about in the creek which runs behind their apartment. The creek leads to a part of Lake Norman which is filled with wildlife of all descriptions. It is not all that unusual to see a heron, or groups of geese (I think that's called a "gaggle")as well as various wildlife ashore, which include deer, raccoons, groundhogs and, in this case, the occasional beaver. This is the text of the e-mail from Michael, sent while still paddling about. Technology, ain't it grand?
IT'S A BEAVER!!!
During our excursion over the nearby portion of the lake, Sarah and I were relaxing when your daughter glimpsed something just peeking from the water's surface, moving across the inlet.
"A water-dwelling mammal!"she exclaimed and led the way as we took our individual inflatable rafts to follow in the creature's wake. After it disappeared beneath the surface, Sarah spotted it once again, eating leaves calmly as it edged out of the water. For nearly one half of an hour we watched the beaver eat, and I endeavored to capture it's presence with the low quality camera on my cellular phone. What I have attached to this e-mail is the best of my attempts, and while it may not be visible here, we guarantee you it's tail was flat, and glorious.
Thanks to Coleman, our 2 year old neighbor, for proving that the Age of Chivalry is not dead. Sue was out doing the lawn today when Coleman came outside with his mom, Ashley. Sizing up the situation in a glance, he grabbed his trusty, lightweight mower and pitched right in. He didn't even ask for gas money! Watch out for this little guy,he's going to break hearts someday...
There are so many books written about the sea, and for the most part, they are very entertaining. However, they usually confine themselves to one topic; either a ship's voyage, a discovery, a wreck, a storm, and even the occasional mutiny. But this book has it all.
The author, Simon Winchester, author of about 20 books, ranging from travel to history, has outdone himself with this all encompassing tome to the world's most well traveled ocean. His love of the sea began in earnest at age 18, in 1963, when he booked passage from Liverpool aboard the Empress of Britain, bound for Montreal.
From the formation of the oceans and the first voyages upon them, the author carefully delves into all the major aspects of the history of the Atlantic. The Vikings conquest of Northern Europe, and the battle for control of the continent during the Crusades is well documented and lively. The interplay between the politics of the Mediterranean Sea, with it's marauding pirates on the ocean, and bandits on the land trade routes, blocked access to the Far East, and lent a new urgency to explore the vast Atlantic Ocean as an alternative.
Further exploring the history of European expansion, the author takes us on the voyages to the New World, the conquests of South America, and the attendant decimation of the native popoulation. The first slave ships of the 16th Century, were mostly comprised of native prisoners taken from South America by the Spanish. Later, the French and English, and even the newly founded American colonies, would occupy themselves with the importation of slaves from Africa to work the plantations of the South. The last slave to have come over on an American slave ship was Cudjoe Lewis, who died at age 94 in 1935, living just outside Mobile, Alabama. He had been taken from his native Benin in about 1858.
One of the most unusual slave stories involves James Riley, a farmer's son from Connecticut, who set out on the brig Commerce from Hartford in 1815. They were off to North Africa, looking for slaves. But, as luck would have it, the shearers became the shorn. The Commerce ran aground in a fog, and Mr. Riley was captured, along with his crew and, you guessed it, they were enslaved by a group of Sahara nomads. His ordeal lasted 2 years and came to an end only after he managed to slip a note to the British Consul in Essaouira. Ransom was arranged in the amount of $920 and two double barreled shotguns in order to secure the release of Mr. Riley and his crew. Upon his return home Mr. Riley penned "An Authentic Narrative of the Loss of the American Brig Commerce", which sold over a million copies. The book is back in print today under the title "Sufferings in Africa." Abraham Lincoln described it as having more influence upon him than any other book, save for the Bible and "Pilgrim's Progress."
The author also explores the ocean currents and their effects upon trade and travel. The progress made by technology is also addressed in this sweeping history of the Atlantic Ocean. The triumphs and tragedies, the joys and sorrrows, the mysteries of forgotten ships; are all gathered in this one remarkable collection that will keep you reading past bedtime. And even then, when you do fall asleep, you will probably dream of the sea.
In an effort to remain current,we dispatched our correspondent, Stacey Redgrave, who happens to be my cousin and works cheaply, to London to cover the Royal Wedding. This postcard arrived yesterday. Notice the date and postmark. We will have to get all the details from her when she returns. The groom was an unemployed fellow by the name of William. Actually, I'm told that he is from a wealthy family. He married the elder Milligan daughter, Kate. We wish them all the best. Co-incidentally, these were the first names of my great-grandparents, William and Kate Williams. Meantime, on the local social scene, we have the following to report; 
Our frog, has returned from his winter vacation home. It only took a couple of weeks, but he now comes willingly when called. He gained a bit of weight over the winter, but that's to be expected when you just lay about all day for several months. We're looking for a frog family, preferably in the area, with a young frog of their own, one who has not been in any significant trouble, to meet our frog. Who knows? They just might hit it off and make some beautiful frog music together.
