Real Men Eat Hard Tack

I managed to get my computer up and running again, sans hard drive. It had bad sectors in it and it wouldn't format properl...~glaze over, skip to the end~...now I am back to square one. So, enough computer talk.

These last two weekends the House of Coffee was attempting to benefit from the last of the nice weather. We don't tan in our neck of the woods, just rust a little. Consequently, we adapt by using sunny days to our best advantage.

Saturday, we pulled our rusty selves out of bed and had a little family outing that included a history lesson. We attended a yearly event at The Fort Vancouver National Historical Site on the Columbia River. They had reenactors, biplanes, camps from Civil war, WWI, WWII, and pioneers from 1849 to the Oregon Trail Days. Before you glaze over again, I'll show you some of the highlights with my usual demented intuitiveness. Just click to enlarge the pictures, or you can see these and more on my flickr page.

Here is part of the WWII camp. Mr. Coffee studies military history and I enjoy researching my genealogy. For us, this was a blast to take the kids. Mr. Coffee wanted to take a few souvenirs with him, starting with the M1 Garands these Reinactor Dudes are holding. Dear Santa...





The kids sampled hard tack ("blech!") and asked multiple questions such as, "Were you really in the Civil War?". I loved that the Reenactor Dudes would answer in character. Mr. Coffee busied himself, talking with a uniformed few. These Stars and Stripes replicas were serious men with every semblance of guts and glory. Mr. Coffee was in his element, and holy cow, I almost grew a beard with all the testosterone floating around me.

Forget seemingly manly things like golf, Monday night football, or poker. Real Men reenact including Mr. Coffee who now has a personal invite to kick some German half-track in a couple of weeks. I love it when he can go do things he really loves, if only he can pry himself from practicing his bass.

I like how they had all these camps around in their canvas and drab colors and smack in the center of the field is this fiery red historic hot dog / burrito cart. Honestly, they were good burritos but a burrito cart? Maybe this one came up from south of the border with the Rough Riders from TX. Is this where historic burrito carts come from? I don't know and Wikipedia has squat on this. Darnnnnn them.



I managed to escape the testosterone-filled air without growing a beard. I ended up amusing the kids and myself, joking about the giant doggy door (below), and laughing together at the crotch powder. I knew you wouldn't believe me, so I took pictures. The hard tack in the picture is a dental nightmare but if I was starving I'd be horking it down, too.

I'd hate to get the tooth powder and crotch powder mixed up. One slip before your morning coffee, you could easily end up with a peppermint clean crotch and soothing teeth that don't chafe and rub. I'm just saying......

Now this is a doggy door.



She does her momma proud. Grinding coffee, old school.



Have it be known, the Cavalry had the first drive-thru coffee idea.

That's what I've been up to. Meeting Real Men with rifles, drinking drive-thru Starbucks while using crotch powder behind the doggy door to get in line at the historic burrito cart.