Updated Schedule

I have updated the SCHEDULE page to more accurately reflect my season and travels during this present year! Hope to see you on the road.

A very busy schedule!

Greetings again gentle reader. If you have a keen eye, you may have noticed that I have made a few alterations to the journal before you in recent days. Never fear, it is only my attempt to remove clutter and make it function in a more efficient manner. I have made some additions to the SCHEDULE page and made some graphic modifications to the PRAISE page with the hope of making more changes to it in the near future.

A scene from my Nashborough visit.

My trip to Fort Nashborough was hot, but fruitful, in that it allowed me to serve the grand old site, as well as make a few business connections and visit with friends.

I have discover'd the hiding place of my copy of DOMESTIC MEDICINE! Having sent Lucy, my eldest, out to clean out our blue wagon, she returned with it in her arms.

Said I, "Where did you find it?"

Says she with a smile, "T'was pushed under the front seat Father."

Upon the week's end of August the 13th I shall travel once again unto Fort Loudoun upon the Tenasee River. Upon further review of my schedule, I have discover'd that Loudoun will be the beginning of a TEN WEEK travel marathon!

AUGUST

Week One
Fort Loudoun Garrison Weekend August 13-14 Vonore, TN. 
Wherein I shall be in charge of His Majesty's Infirmary whilst Dr. Anderson is away on the King's Business.

Week Two
Battle of Blue Licks August 20-21 Mt Olivet, KY.
Wherein I shall be giving two medical lectures for the benefit of the publick and the Governess will be giving a discussion on women's fashion.


Week Three

RSATN Garden Party Rock Castle, Hendersonville TN August 28th


SEPTEMBER

Week Four
Fair at New Boston September 3 & 4, 2011 Springfield, OH

Week Five
Painted Stone Settlers Long Run Massacre September 9-11 Shelbyville, KY.
Wherein I shall be giving medical lectures for the publick and the Governess will be giving a discussion on women's fashion.

Week Six
100 Years at the Falls Farnsley-Moremon Landing, September 16-18 Louisville, KY.
Where I shall again discuss discuss the Art & Mystery of my craft.

Week Seven
Muster on the Wabash September 24-25 Vincennes, IN.
Where the SECOND DOCTOR will discuss medicine and Surgery and Miss Waterman will be discussing fashion.

OCTOBER


Week Eight

JASNA Medical Lecture Dayton, Ohio October 1st
Where the SECOND DOCTOR will discuss medicine and Surgery

Week Nine
Mississinewa 1812: October 7 - 9, 2011 Marion, IN.

Week Ten
Schoenbrunn Village Fair New Philadelphia, Ohio.
Wherein I shall be giving medical lectures for the publick.

MAJOR JOURNAL MODIFICATION

If you are a follower of my TWO Journals, one for the Colonial Doctor and one for the Regency Doctor, then have I got news for you!

I have decided to take the TWO journals and turn them into ONE big Doctor journal. So now there will be in character posts for the two main Doctors I do. The Colonial Doctor and the Regency Doctor.

I hope this isn't TOO confusing for you fair reader, but I do believe that it will be the easiest thing for all parties concerned. Me in that I only have to update ONE journal, and you in that you only have to remember to keep up with ONE journal.

I have also begun to add LABELS to my posts, so if you have particular topics of interest, you can find them easier. The LABELS can be found at the bottom of each post below where it says "Written by the hand of The Doctor at".

You can also find a guide to the various types of LABELS along the left side of the page just above my Facebook badge.

From ye Frontier of Kentuckee (UPDATED!)

This brief note from mr. Barker concerning his oxen.

The new ox is beautiful... He has no name recognition so we decided to rename him 'William Too'.

It is hard to tell yet if the others are accepting him. I drove everybody this afternoon. I'm going to try to have them out a long time tomorrow. I need to thank everyone that helped.

Another note from mr. Barker concerning his oxen.

Here is William Too (the one with the most white on him) in the off side leader slot hooked to a small log. He is intelligent, fast and not sure what these crazy people are doing to him. I think he is a good natured animal though, just not used to handling or work.

We did a second training session this afternoon and hauled some light logs. I don't think William has ever gone two miles before. He does not understand "steady" movement. George is trying to work it all out, but it is confusing for him. Maybe a little easier on Charles and James because they still have each other. You can see confusion on William's face.

A SUNNY WEEK'S END

SPENT a goodly portion of the past few days in the out of doors. The weather was unseasonably sunny and warm, glorious! I fiddled about in the garden to make ready for Spring, and worked on a project that has required my attention for a while.

I found a long branch and cut it down to about five feet in length, using a rather over-sized amputation saw made for me by a gunsmith... whose name has completely escaped me, I really am rubbish with names, for I can see his face clearly in my mind, but his name is a mystery. I met him first at Traveller's Rest some time back. Curse my overly busy brain! What WAS his name?

Then the girls and I took turns cutting the bark from its length. It doesn't seem like much, but it will aid me in my pursuits as an amateur Naturalist this year, carrying small specimen cages in the field and the like.

I have done a good deal of letter writing and receiving of late, with more promised in the near future. Currently, I am expecting letters from Bridgett McGee, the Widow Black, Jas. Moore, as well as several others who will be paying for their recent orders of Mrs. Phillips' products.

The calendar has also occupied my mind of late. With the addition of events in Kentuckee and the Indiana territory, this promises to be the busiest year for me to date. You will note that I have added several new events and locations to my Schedule.

I have begun to discover just how many of these events overlap, a singular problem that I have heard others speak of, but that has never effected me to any great degree until this present year.

And, speaking of letters, I have sent several to well placed people that should introduce me into society at Williamsburg for a trip that I have been trying to make there for several years. If I am able to secure entry, I will be going in June, around the end of that month.

UPDATE FROM Ye FRONTIER

This brief note from mr. Barker concerning his oxen.

E were supposed to leave to pick up the new ox today. The fellow who was going to meet us asked that we put it off for a week. Mixed feelings, the weather was supposed to be bad and I do not want to risk an animal or make him uncomfortable, but I really want to get to introducing the animal to the others and get on with the training. Worked George with James yesterday moving a round bale.

mr. Barker at Mansker's Station with,

what appears to be, a very clean Maggie.

I will, upon this coming Saturday, travel up to the Kentuckee region to the Talbott Tavern (built in 1785) for dinner and drinks with friends. I look forward to having several daughts of the fine dark beer brewed by mr. A. Guinness.

Mr. Guinness founded his brewery in 1759 when he sign'd a 9,000 (Yes, you read correctly fair reader, nine THOUSAND)-year lease on an unused brewery at St. James’s Gate, DUBLIN. It costs him an initial £100 with an annual rent of £45 - this includes crucial water rights. The brewery covers four acres and consists of a copper, a kieve, a mill, two malthouses, stabling for 12 horses and a loft to hold 200 tons of hay.

There is also a trade fair to be held just a few extra miles to the Northeast of the tavern that I have decided to attend, not because of any over abundance of funds mind you, but merely to have a look at what is to be had. I have so little restraint, that such excursions are often the source of my financial ruin.

From Mr. BARKER

This was written by the hand of our friend mr. G. Barker, and giv'n to me by the Parson John to post here for you, fair-reader.

ILLIAM was sweet. He was always willing to be petted. At events when the others would wear out on little hands, William was ready for another scratch under the chin up to the bitter end. One of the things we had happen was near the close of the day at Vincennes a couple of years ago I was talking to some people and a pair of parents held a little girl, I’d guess about five years old up to pet Will. Without warning, a cannon fired for a demonstration. The girl screamed. She was autistic and sound sensitive. She screamed long and loud, right in Will’s face. He stood there unmoving. When he died Friday he was a seven year old Durham ox that weighed 1700 pounds last time I weighed him. He was the off side leader in a team of four oxen affectionately called “The Four Kings”, George, William, Charles and James.

His best stunt may have been at New Boston. Last September, I was stopped talking to a bunch of students during their “school day”. One little girl came up beside William with a stick of rock candy in her hand. William stood there unmoving. Suddenly the ten inch long tongue flicked out, took the rock candy and ate it, stick and all.

Of the many oxen we have had, I think he was the only one we ever really did call stupid. For example, we always line the team up in the same way: George, William, Charles and James. In six years with us, he was the one ox that never quite could figure this out. The other three would simply pass him down the line and push him into place.

We had constant examples of the other three oxen protecting him and boosting him along. They would nudge him when he forgot to move. George, his partner, pushed him and pulled him on turns when he seemed lost in day dreams. But, when the going was tough, he was not a shirker. He would pull with the best of them.

Friday, we put a new round bale in the hay ring in the pasture. I had gone in town to get feed, and when I came back all four were eating merrily at the bale. I went to the house and started on chores. I got back to the pasture to feed the oxen about an hour later. Will was down, his head in one of the slots of the feeder, his two feet in the next slot. He was dead, but still warm. The other three oxen were standing around, not eating. I tried to disentangle him but I couldn’t do more than get a single foot free.

I fed the remaining oxen and went home. George did not eat. I checked on him twice more that evening. He just stood there by the hay feeder.

The next morning a friend, Mark Simpson and his son, Travis, came to help Maria and I get Will out of the pasture. We had to use the tractor. We tipped the hay ring up and pulled it out from under him then with the ring anchored to the tractor pulled Will out with a neighbor’s four wheel drive pick-up.

Maria comforted George while some of the work was gong on. At one point she called me over. He seemed to want my attention. After we got finished, George went to the gate beside which Will lay. I have read that cattle will cry, but I am not sure if I have ever seen it before. George was dripping tiny grey tears.

I stayed with him a while, left and fed the horses, and came back to him. He just seemed to want me beside him. I stayed as long as I though I could then had to go back home to host Mark and Travis, at least say thank you.

I came back twice more during the day. Each time George was still by the gate. The second time, I was standing by George and Charlie came up. I am sure he felt that if loving was being given out he would like some. (Maybe I should add that each time I was there I gave at least a little time to Charles and James.) Anyway, George shook his horns, snorted and lowered his head at Charles, clear warnings to stay away. Charles raised his head (submission signal), and instantly backed off. When I felt it was time to go back to work, I took George over to the hay and stood with him while he began to eat. James took George’s place at the gate.

When I came back for evening chores (an hour or so later) George was still eating hay. Charlie was now at the gate. I fed everybody, loved up on them a bit and had to go. George went back to the hay ring. I don’t know if anyone went to the gate.

Sunday morning when I went back to the pasture for feeding, George was back at his station by the gate. I could see by the flat spot without frost and the droppings that he had slept there by the gate. He did eat. He spent a long time licking my leg after the feeding and when I left he was back at the hay ring. I checked on him after feeding the horses and he was nibbling grass up by one of the training pens. Charlie was back at the gate.

I went to the pasture to check on and feed the oxen four times Sunday. Each time George was somewhere. If I stayed with him, he would go to the round bale feeder and eat and he is eating sweetfeed, but he is still keeping watch over Will’s body. If he left the gate area, Charlie generally took his place. James only did that once on Saturday. George is extremely affectionate and does not want me to leave. The other two are also, but George is demanding. After evening chores as I was leaving, George planted himself on my path out the gate and stood there blocking my way so I would have to pay attention to him.

Maria and I searched the net for a replacement for Will. Our big fear is losing George and we both think that getting him a new partner and getting him working are the best ways to ensure his survival. We found a shorthorn ox in Massachusetts that sounds like he will work. We agreed to buy him. We have very little money on hand and this is the off season so none will be coming in until April. We have borrowed $1500 and Frank Jarboe, Tom Ruly and Terre Lawson have offered help. We have even had Albert Roberts children break into their piggy bank to send us money for a new ox. There has been a tremendous outpouring of sympathy on the internet; something like a hundred messages.

Monday morning the oxen stood mid pasture waiting for Maria and I. Judging by the tracks in the snow, no one slept near the gate. They all wanted affection before feeding, which sometimes happens. It is not that unusual. After feeding them, I had to cover Will back up. The wind had blown the tarp off. George came to the gate and really wanted more contact. I think we are really over the hump. The next goal is to get him working, and the weather is fighting us. I think it is too icy to hook an ox to a load, even with shoes with ice caulks. I don’t want to hurt an animal.

HELP SAVE GEORGE!!!

George is the lead ox for the Four Kings, Gerry Barker's oxen that appear at many Reenactments around the country. George and William are the two in the lead in the above photo.

On last Friday, George's partner William suddenly died.

When this happens, the partner usually dies also from grief. The best remedy is to get George back to doing the thing he loves, working. A replacement has been found and funds are urgently and quickly needed to help with transportation this week. Tax deductable donations can be made to this need through the Purefinder Fund ... www.purefinder.org to to the needs page.

Just click DONATE to help!

I have spent the two last years encamped with mr. Barker and the oxen at the Fair at New Boston. They are really fantastic animals. My girls donated their collective allowances to help out their favorite 'boys'.

UPDATED PROMOTIONAL MATERIALS

I have, this very day, completed the alterations to my promotional materials. It involved some small changes to existing pages and the addition of an all new THIRD page of nothing but images from my various adventures. Let me know what you think, I'd love to get your opinion on these.

The cover page... can you find the ONE tiny change I made here?

Page two, I added my fees to the bottom of the block of body copy.

The all new THIRD page.

Page four, now with even more testimonials!

A GLIMPSE OF THINGS TO COME

A journey... Part VI

N the week that I have been a guest in the home of mr. C----- and his goode wife, there has been snow and freezing weather in great abundance. The cabin has been so cold that even with a good blaze in the hearth, I can see my breath on the opposite side of the room.

Mr. C----- is much return'd to his health I think. He has been up and about and back to work around the cabin and even a bit in the out-of-doors. The two of us have taken care to repair some of the chinking between the logs and to stuff additional bits of wool in some of the gaps in the floor and around the window and door. It has helped little to fend off the extreme cold.

The weather has broken and the freezing temperatures subsided. The ice has begun to thaw a bit, a perfect time to make my return trip home. I fear if I am to stay much longer, mrs. C-----'s cooking will cause my cloathes to become too tight in the waist.

I will go to Bledsoe his fort tomorrow and find a companion to make the trip back with. Perhaps mr. Flynn, my neighbor, has concluded his business and will be ready to return with me.

Not a day over 260...

It has been brought to my attention that Herr Mozart has posted something in his journal regarding my birthday upon this coming Saturday! Some excellent suggestions are giv'n for what I might do to occupy myself... flip over and have a look!

In case you were curious, I was born Jan. 9th 1745, what a year! Here's to my dear old mum and my no good brother Nigel back home, pour the beer and bring out the cakes!

A journey... Part IV

HE words of Mr. Burton found their way into my dreams long before I heard them with my ears.

Rouse him, says he.

It was barely morning and I was soaked to the bone after a night with scarcely two hours of sleep strung together in small bits. The oiled canvas could only provide so much protection against the heavy rains of the night before.

Mr. Burton and Flynn were on their feet, and the Bryant brothers were down the hill having a look around at what had been the indian camp. They seemed particularly interested in some of the refuse they were finding on the ground, as they were crouching to examine it.

At some point, as I was sleeping, the natives had picked up and moved on, southward according to Burton, who had the fierce and exhausted look of a man who had been on guard all night.

With little ceremony, we gathered up and continued eastward along the trail, still assaulted by a light drizzle of rain. It was still aforenoon when we arrived at the small cabin that belonged to mr. C-----'s family. I bid the other gentlemen in the party farewell as they continued on the next few miles to Bledsoe his fort.

Mrs. C----- was elated to see me when I arrived at the door, and made such a fuss over my general condition that I could not get a word in edgewise. The state of my poor cloathing, I would surely catch my death of cold, have you ever seen such a thing dear, she would see to getting me into to dry things, had I eaten yet, I looked so thin since we last met, I surely had not eaten, look dear it's the Doctor come to see you.

The small, one room cabin was crammed full of stores for the winter months. The entire wall opposite the fire was filled with hanging corn and all manner of vegetables and herbs to dry. On the wall by the door was a great salted ham that they had already begun to carve at. Their little home was scarcely more than a spot for a bed and a table, packed so full it was, I could barely find a place to set down my blue box.

Mrs. C----- saw to it that a line was run next to the fire so that my wet cloathes and things could be hung up to dry and she gave me a rather rough and ill-fitting suit of mr. C-----'s to wear whilst mine were occupied.

A journey... Part III

cold, miserable night spent shivering. I buttoned up and rolled my blankets up to make ready. My breakfast consisted of a combination of nuts and dried fruits from my haversack.

Light sleet early on as our path begins to make a slow, gradual rise uphill. Mr. Burton, who has made this trip several times in the past, seems to be of the opinion that we can be in the vicinity of Bledsoe his Fort by nightfall. I will be pleased not to sleep outdoors again this night.

The weather gives way to a cloudy, overcast day, but warmer weather. I am just beginning to reach into my haversack for a bite of dried meat when Mr. Burton, who is at the front of the party, stops in the middle of the trail. The brothers Bryant take up their arms and leave the path to gain the cover of the trees, Mr. Flynn and I do the same.

Burton very slowly moves to a cluster of trees and lays himself out flat upon the ground. He stretches his arm out and silently gestures for the Bryant boys to join him. They look down the slope and converse quietly for a while before they gesture Flynn and I over.

We all look down the slope to espy a group of fur-clad natives that have set up a small camp just off the path. Burton's eyes are better than my own, I would never have seen them if left to my own devices.

It is not their habit to be in this area in the cold months, says Burton.

Why is it that they come to be here? asks Flynn, face red, hands shaking.

It would seem that, like us, they are traveling, says Burton.

The Bryants look eager to greet them, tightening their grip on their weapons.

What are we to do? They are eleven and we are five, says I, not excited by the prospect of running to an early grave.

It is the opinion of Burton that we should stay where we are and wait for the indians to leave in the morning. It is his fear that if we make any attempt to attack, or even to go around, that they may discover us. All members of the party agree, after some grumbling from the young brothers.

The sun sets, and rain begins to fall. We stay flat on our stomachs and carefully cover ourselves with a large oiled canvas that Burton brought with him. It does little to keep us warm, but staves off the majority of the wet.

We shall keep watch all night, in the hopes that they move on in the morning.

A journey... Part II

ITTER cold with high gusts greet us as we depart, not a good time of year to be moving about in the out-of-doors. Mr. Burton assures me that we should have no trouble from any indians, much to the disappointment of the brothers Bryant. We crossed the river to the North and then turned Eastward along a well beaten trail. The trail lead East Northeast along fairly even ground for the majority of the morning.

I wore my heavy gray wool overshirt on top of my heavy black wool coat, and a wool scarf about my head and ears (and atop my wig) to fend off the cold. I have not missed the looks given me by Mr. Flynn, Burton and the brothers Bryant concerning my dark cloathes. Each of them, being poor men, wear simple drab brown cloathing in comparison to my own.

We travel all day without stopping, save a few moments to refresh our supplies of water, we even walk whilst eating. It is far easier to take a few handfuls of sustenance from one's haversack while moving, than to spend a prolonged period exposed to these elements.

My travel companions move quickly, their feet sure and silent on the cold, dry ground. We have made good progress today. As the sun sets, we turn off the trail and into the woods to find shelter for the night. We built a fire, but it did very little, shedding more light than warmth. The night sky is clear and cloudless, I can see every star in the Heavens against the black pool of the sky.

I lay my wool blankets out atop a bed of leaves, careful that the red one goes underneath and the dark gray one goes above, to keep me hidden in the night. I sleep with all my cloathing on, even my boots stay on tonight. I simply loosen my neck stock and unbutton my shirt collar and the top two buttons of my waistcoat for comfort.

A journey to tend to Mr. C-----

HAVE received word through a mutual friend that Mr. C-----, my first surviving amputee here upon this frontier is ailing. I have therefore resolved to pack up my instruments and travel to his homestead to pay him a visit in my capacity as his Physician.

We were first introduced several years ago, when I was housed at Mansker his station, Mr. C------ came into the area much like any other. He was giv'n some acres as payment for past military service, and claimed land near Bledsoe's fort. He was inexperienced as a farmer and was injured by his plow, I had no recourse but to amputate his left leg below the knee at the tibia.

He and his wife had little capacity for payment, which I finally took in the way of several chickens, a week's worth of meals prepared (as I oversaw the recovery of the patient), some tidy repairs to my clothing by mr. C-----'s goode wife and a lovely Beaver pelt (which hung in my office above the mantle for some time).

He sought me out the following October complaining of pain in the stump. I bled him vigorously, and he returned home, restored to his health.

After the destruction of the old fort, I traveled down Mansker's creek to the Cumberland River, where I went downstream until I found a spot that I could claim for my own that was a suitable distance from Fort Nashborough. My land is but a day's travel by boat to the fort, as it is all downstream. I am loathe to confess, however, that it takes me two days (three on occasion) of steady rowing to make the return trip.

I had built for myself a small sturdy cabin on a nice flat plot of ground and have since plied my trade sufficiently and with some success.

Since the word has come to me of his ailing, I have begun to make arrangements to travel with a party of gentlemen to pay Mr. C------ a visit at his homestead up near the area of Issac Bledsoe's Lick. The party is to be made up of myself, Mr. Flynn, Mr. Burton and the young brothers Bryant. Mr. Flynn is my closest neighbor, and the other gentlemen are, I believe, hunters and trappers by profession.

Mrs. Flynn has agreed to keep the girls whilst I am away. I have packed up my blue box and have made ready to travel upon the morrow.

AWARDS

In an attempt to relieve my left margin of some unsightly clutter, I have removed the awards from the bottom area, and placed them on the PRAISE page. A hearty word of thanks to those of you who have seen fit to grace my writings (and scribbles) with any form of acknowledgment. I do so hope that you continue to enjoy them into the future.

I have also temporarily placed the list of readers at the top of the page just below the heading. I wanted to have a look at all you kind folk, and doing it in this manner allows me to gaze upon all you brilliant people. Never you fear, gentle reader, it will only stay there for a few days time.

BLOG AWARDS

The Amadeus Award for Taste & Excellence

The Excessively Diverting Blog Award

Proximade Friendliness Award

Nearly DECEMBER

HIS morning the postman brought a package from Kentuckee from the Bible binder with my newly bound Medical text. It is even more beautiful than I imagined it could be! The detailing is marvelous and the leather he used is soft and lovely. I look forward to being able to carry it in the field again!

I would highly recommend the goode Bible-man's work to anyone looking for a quality Bible or Journal.

I have of late received a letter from one of the fine fellows from the Sea Rats Atlantic, offering me well wishes regarding my recent letter of intent. They are a fantastic looking lot of seamen, whom I first encounter'd briefly at Fort Niagara this summer last.

The END OF NOVEMBER

HE weather has turned cold in the mornings, and the tree outside has shed its leaves. It seems quite some time since I last made post in my journal.

There has been little activity here upon ye frontier, as it would seem that the local natives have retired in preparation of winter.

My activities have turned to the writing of letters to send to friends at Christmas-time. I have a goodly number of them ready to be sent, and am all-a-gog to find someone willing to carry them out of this region on my behalf.

I am quite pleased and encouraged by the responses to my recent letter of intent. I feel it bodes well for the coming year. I am likewise pleased by the rebinding of my tattered copy of "Plain Concise Practical Remarks on the Treatment of Wounds and Fractures". It will be fit to carry on my person.