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Sep. 2nd, 2015
finally: crossposting from Tumblr to LJ/DW
Sep. 2nd, 2015 02:40 amoh and this is rad-- i accidentally posted that entry like fifty times to tumblr and had to hand-delete the accidentally unedited duplicates and accidentally deleted the one edited one with my commentary, and that's so great.
but what the fuck ever. the point is, i'm an idiot and incompetent, and i'm done with it now, and it worked. sort of.
the upside is that it automatically deleted the crosspostings to live journal when i nuked them here.
i just...
i give up.
but what the fuck ever. the point is, i'm an idiot and incompetent, and i'm done with it now, and it worked. sort of.
the upside is that it automatically deleted the crosspostings to live journal when i nuked them here.
i just...
i give up.
via http://ift.tt/1LSV2iD:
Thank you.
*sobs*
and you probably got like four hundred thousand notifications because of my broken xkit that reblogged it fifty times while I was trying to type an addendum
and it’s just hard to be bad at shit and I thank you very much for having bothered to write the tutorial in the first place and being kind about my utter inability to follow it.
Thank you.
*sobs*
and you probably got like four hundred thousand notifications because of my broken xkit that reblogged it fifty times while I was trying to type an addendum
and it’s just hard to be bad at shit and I thank you very much for having bothered to write the tutorial in the first place and being kind about my utter inability to follow it.
via http://ift.tt/1LSV2ix:
bomberqueen17:
and now for the hey, sometimes my xkit is so broken that if i try to type into the post entry window it executes keyboard shortcuts instead, so every time I type a word with a d in it it saves the original post to my drafts, every time I type a word with an r in it it reblogs the original post without my edits, etc.
and then i have to manually delete them all and after literally six months of this my drafts folder is a literal pit of horror and i have no fucking idea what to do except delete xkit and the xkit guy is gone and the site is fucking awful without it
and i give up on fucking EVERYTHING right now and am going to … well, i don’t sleep well so it’s not like i can do that, so
UGH WHATEVER
feathasthekitten said: There’s a new group that has taken over xkit and repaired it. You have to go reinstall the new version.
I saw that but I have no fucking idea how and given how hard it was for me to do something that was billed as One Two Three Easy! the odds that I will actually do so are infinitesimal. I saw instructions go by and then never saw them again, and I don’t know how to do it and it’ll probably be too hard for me anyway. So, I am doomed to lie in my PIT OF INCOMPETENCE. Because I am an INCOMPETENT.
&c &c ad infinitum I know, it gets pretty old for me too but there doesn’t seem to be a cure.
bomberqueen17:
and now for the hey, sometimes my xkit is so broken that if i try to type into the post entry window it executes keyboard shortcuts instead, so every time I type a word with a d in it it saves the original post to my drafts, every time I type a word with an r in it it reblogs the original post without my edits, etc.
and then i have to manually delete them all and after literally six months of this my drafts folder is a literal pit of horror and i have no fucking idea what to do except delete xkit and the xkit guy is gone and the site is fucking awful without it
and i give up on fucking EVERYTHING right now and am going to … well, i don’t sleep well so it’s not like i can do that, so
UGH WHATEVER
feathasthekitten said: There’s a new group that has taken over xkit and repaired it. You have to go reinstall the new version.
I saw that but I have no fucking idea how and given how hard it was for me to do something that was billed as One Two Three Easy! the odds that I will actually do so are infinitesimal. I saw instructions go by and then never saw them again, and I don’t know how to do it and it’ll probably be too hard for me anyway. So, I am doomed to lie in my PIT OF INCOMPETENCE. Because I am an INCOMPETENT.
&c &c ad infinitum I know, it gets pretty old for me too but there doesn’t seem to be a cure.
via http://ift.tt/1O6SCdC:
and now for the hey, sometimes my xkit is so broken that if i try to type into the post entry window it executes keyboard shortcuts instead, so every time I type a word with a d in it it saves the original post to my drafts, every time I type a word with an r in it it reblogs the original post without my edits, etc.
and then i have to manually delete them all and after literally six months of this my drafts folder is a literal pit of horror and i have no fucking idea what to do except delete xkit and the xkit guy is gone and the site is fucking awful without it
and i give up on fucking EVERYTHING right now and am going to … well, i don’t sleep well so it’s not like i can do that, so
UGH WHATEVER
and now for the hey, sometimes my xkit is so broken that if i try to type into the post entry window it executes keyboard shortcuts instead, so every time I type a word with a d in it it saves the original post to my drafts, every time I type a word with an r in it it reblogs the original post without my edits, etc.
and then i have to manually delete them all and after literally six months of this my drafts folder is a literal pit of horror and i have no fucking idea what to do except delete xkit and the xkit guy is gone and the site is fucking awful without it
and i give up on fucking EVERYTHING right now and am going to … well, i don’t sleep well so it’s not like i can do that, so
UGH WHATEVER
via http://ift.tt/1Q7tSmO:
but in the end you all win, because what got me through today was torturing bucky barnes some more, interspersed only with torturing Natasha some more, and i’m going to go back and keep doing that, and i swear to you the Hour of Our Death series is going to be a fucking goldmine of fucking torture. I can’t wait.
It’s about the only thing I’m good at. What can I say. I embrace my strengths. Here, have a chunk.
Nick stopped dead when he saw the shadowy figure in the hallway. “Kid,” he said, “you havin’ a mental breakdown or just tryin’ to give me a heart attack?”
“I don’t mean to be a pest,” Barnes said. Nick flicked the light on and made a face; Barnes looked fucking awful, too-skinny and run-down and eyes like starved hollows. “I just, you’re a hard man to meet up with.”
“I’m dead,” Nick said. He considered that. “Then again, so are you, so…”
Barnes nodded absently. He looked really, really awful. Like maybe he was genuinely ill. Like maybe…
“You heard anything from Natasha lately?” Nick asked. If there was trouble between those two, he didn’t want to think about what would happen.
Barnes looked slightly stricken, then blank. “That’s what I wanted to ask you,” he said. That sounded like defeat. “She went out on a mission and said she’d be off the grid and it’s been six weeks.”
Nick frowned. “What mission?”
Barnes spread his hands. “I don’t know,” he said. “I didn’t ask at the time because I figured I’d find out, but– there’s nothing. None of the usual ways I can find out. No one I know has heard anything.”
Nick thought about it, and went back into his bedroom to retrieve his phone. “Let’s see,” he said. “Natasha.” He had several communications with her, but nothing particularly recent. “She sent me a couple information requests… mm, most recent about three weeks ago.” He scrolled through a couple more things. “Sent me a stupid eyepatch joke four weeks ago. Nothing more recent.”
“That’s more recently than I’ve heard from her,” Barnes said, low and miserable, head down, no eye contact. “I didn’t–” He visibly composed himself. “She left of her own free will and I got no reason to suspect anything’s happened, I just– it’s longer than she usually goes without checking in.”
“For me too,” Nick said, frowning. “For me too. I had kinda been wondering but to be honest I figured she was doing something with you.”
Barnes didn’t look up. “No sir,” he said.
“Clint heard anything?” Nick asked.
Barnes shook his head. “Said he figured she was doin’ something for you. S’why I was lookin’ for you.”
“I don’t really… assign missions, anymore,” Nick said. “I have only unofficial insights into the activities the new SHIELD would be actively pursuing.”
“Tried them too,” Barnes said. “Bunch of ‘em are for sale, by the way. Your Coulson could really stand to do some housecleaning. I got a pretty comprehensive list of currently-active missions, staffing rosters, all of that. The only thing locked down was medical records and home of record addresses.”
“Huh,” Nick said. “Well, I mean, you are good.”
“It wasn’t hard,” Barnes said. He couldn’t even work up a good scowl, though. He just looked beat-down, faded. “I told Steve, those guys don’t got his back, but he doesn’t believe me.” He hunched his shoulders a little, and the metal arm whirred somewhere under layers of clothes. “He don’t know where Natasha is either, an’ he figured I was fuckin’ with him when I asked.”
“Huh,” Nick said again. “Well, guess I’ll have me a little chat with Phil.”
“Yeah,” Barnes said, “SHIELD’s not any cleaner than it was when I worked for it outta a cryo tank with an octopus on it.” He scuffed his toe against the floor. “Might be worse. Disrespecting your legacy, I figure.” He glanced up, then away again. “You want my source stuff, I’ll send it over. Coulson doesn’t gotta know it was me. So long’s he stays off the list that knows about me, yeah?”
“He’s not on the list,” Fury said. “I take care of everything to do with you personally. He doesn’t know who my double agent is. I let him think it’s a pretty girl.”
Barnes let a hint of a smile ghost across his face, at that. “I’d be pretty if I was a dame, for sure.”
“No doubt of that,” Nick said. “So, Natasha’s on a mission I didn’t send her on, you didn’t send her on, and SHIELD didn’t send her on, that Clint doesn’t know about, and she hasn’t set up any check-ins and hasn’t made any.”
“No sir,” Barnes said.
“And her nominal team leader, Rogers, doesn’t know her whereabouts either,” Nick went on.
“No sir,” Barnes said.
He looked so beat-down, so dejected, that Fury added, “And her boyfriend doesn’t know where she is either.”
Barnes looked up, at that, and there was alarm in his expression. It kind of jabbed Nick right under the ribs: Barnes thought he was telling him that there was someone else. Barnes blinked once, twice, and looked back down, perfectly blank, no expression but Fury still had the distinct sensation he’d just yanked the guy’s heart out straight through his guts.
“I meant you,” Fury said gently.
“I don’t know nothin’ about that,” Barnes said, hoarse nearly to the point of whispering. “You probably got to be human to know stuff about that kind of thing.”
“You’re human enough that it counts,” Nick said, a little sternly. Natasha had said something similar, not all that long before, and he’d chastised her, but he was never sure that kind of thing stuck.
Barnes shrugged. “About eighty percent,” he said, a little glumly. He glanced up. “Estimated. By volume, not weight.”
“You calculate that out?” Fury asked, skeptical.
“Nah,” Barnes said. “I’m good at math, but that’s not my style.” He scuffed his toe against the ground again. “There’s a whole big chunk of the Internet devoted to conspiracy theories about me and they did the math for me. If you go by weight I’m only like sixty-five percent human.”
“How’d they know all the relative weights?” Fury asked.
“I told ‘em,” Barnes said. He managed a shadow of a cheeky grin. “I hang out in that chunk of the Internet a lot. Makes me feel better about it. There was a six percent fudge factor for whether I was eating right or not. I weighed myself every day for two weeks. It was a fun science experiment.”
“Volume, though,” Fury said.
“That involved a bathtub and a lot more fudging of data than I’m comfortable admitting,” Barnes said. “I told myself I had to keep some mystery alive. Especially if someone might be able to reverse engineer something about the arm. I gotta keep the arm under wraps.”
“And you just… openly did this as yourself,” Fury said.
Barnes shrugged. “Sure,” he said. “I got a verified account, Natasha got it for me. The Internet knows who I am.”
but in the end you all win, because what got me through today was torturing bucky barnes some more, interspersed only with torturing Natasha some more, and i’m going to go back and keep doing that, and i swear to you the Hour of Our Death series is going to be a fucking goldmine of fucking torture. I can’t wait.
It’s about the only thing I’m good at. What can I say. I embrace my strengths. Here, have a chunk.
Nick stopped dead when he saw the shadowy figure in the hallway. “Kid,” he said, “you havin’ a mental breakdown or just tryin’ to give me a heart attack?”
“I don’t mean to be a pest,” Barnes said. Nick flicked the light on and made a face; Barnes looked fucking awful, too-skinny and run-down and eyes like starved hollows. “I just, you’re a hard man to meet up with.”
“I’m dead,” Nick said. He considered that. “Then again, so are you, so…”
Barnes nodded absently. He looked really, really awful. Like maybe he was genuinely ill. Like maybe…
“You heard anything from Natasha lately?” Nick asked. If there was trouble between those two, he didn’t want to think about what would happen.
Barnes looked slightly stricken, then blank. “That’s what I wanted to ask you,” he said. That sounded like defeat. “She went out on a mission and said she’d be off the grid and it’s been six weeks.”
Nick frowned. “What mission?”
Barnes spread his hands. “I don’t know,” he said. “I didn’t ask at the time because I figured I’d find out, but– there’s nothing. None of the usual ways I can find out. No one I know has heard anything.”
Nick thought about it, and went back into his bedroom to retrieve his phone. “Let’s see,” he said. “Natasha.” He had several communications with her, but nothing particularly recent. “She sent me a couple information requests… mm, most recent about three weeks ago.” He scrolled through a couple more things. “Sent me a stupid eyepatch joke four weeks ago. Nothing more recent.”
“That’s more recently than I’ve heard from her,” Barnes said, low and miserable, head down, no eye contact. “I didn’t–” He visibly composed himself. “She left of her own free will and I got no reason to suspect anything’s happened, I just– it’s longer than she usually goes without checking in.”
“For me too,” Nick said, frowning. “For me too. I had kinda been wondering but to be honest I figured she was doing something with you.”
Barnes didn’t look up. “No sir,” he said.
“Clint heard anything?” Nick asked.
Barnes shook his head. “Said he figured she was doin’ something for you. S’why I was lookin’ for you.”
“I don’t really… assign missions, anymore,” Nick said. “I have only unofficial insights into the activities the new SHIELD would be actively pursuing.”
“Tried them too,” Barnes said. “Bunch of ‘em are for sale, by the way. Your Coulson could really stand to do some housecleaning. I got a pretty comprehensive list of currently-active missions, staffing rosters, all of that. The only thing locked down was medical records and home of record addresses.”
“Huh,” Nick said. “Well, I mean, you are good.”
“It wasn’t hard,” Barnes said. He couldn’t even work up a good scowl, though. He just looked beat-down, faded. “I told Steve, those guys don’t got his back, but he doesn’t believe me.” He hunched his shoulders a little, and the metal arm whirred somewhere under layers of clothes. “He don’t know where Natasha is either, an’ he figured I was fuckin’ with him when I asked.”
“Huh,” Nick said again. “Well, guess I’ll have me a little chat with Phil.”
“Yeah,” Barnes said, “SHIELD’s not any cleaner than it was when I worked for it outta a cryo tank with an octopus on it.” He scuffed his toe against the floor. “Might be worse. Disrespecting your legacy, I figure.” He glanced up, then away again. “You want my source stuff, I’ll send it over. Coulson doesn’t gotta know it was me. So long’s he stays off the list that knows about me, yeah?”
“He’s not on the list,” Fury said. “I take care of everything to do with you personally. He doesn’t know who my double agent is. I let him think it’s a pretty girl.”
Barnes let a hint of a smile ghost across his face, at that. “I’d be pretty if I was a dame, for sure.”
“No doubt of that,” Nick said. “So, Natasha’s on a mission I didn’t send her on, you didn’t send her on, and SHIELD didn’t send her on, that Clint doesn’t know about, and she hasn’t set up any check-ins and hasn’t made any.”
“No sir,” Barnes said.
“And her nominal team leader, Rogers, doesn’t know her whereabouts either,” Nick went on.
“No sir,” Barnes said.
He looked so beat-down, so dejected, that Fury added, “And her boyfriend doesn’t know where she is either.”
Barnes looked up, at that, and there was alarm in his expression. It kind of jabbed Nick right under the ribs: Barnes thought he was telling him that there was someone else. Barnes blinked once, twice, and looked back down, perfectly blank, no expression but Fury still had the distinct sensation he’d just yanked the guy’s heart out straight through his guts.
“I meant you,” Fury said gently.
“I don’t know nothin’ about that,” Barnes said, hoarse nearly to the point of whispering. “You probably got to be human to know stuff about that kind of thing.”
“You’re human enough that it counts,” Nick said, a little sternly. Natasha had said something similar, not all that long before, and he’d chastised her, but he was never sure that kind of thing stuck.
Barnes shrugged. “About eighty percent,” he said, a little glumly. He glanced up. “Estimated. By volume, not weight.”
“You calculate that out?” Fury asked, skeptical.
“Nah,” Barnes said. “I’m good at math, but that’s not my style.” He scuffed his toe against the ground again. “There’s a whole big chunk of the Internet devoted to conspiracy theories about me and they did the math for me. If you go by weight I’m only like sixty-five percent human.”
“How’d they know all the relative weights?” Fury asked.
“I told ‘em,” Barnes said. He managed a shadow of a cheeky grin. “I hang out in that chunk of the Internet a lot. Makes me feel better about it. There was a six percent fudge factor for whether I was eating right or not. I weighed myself every day for two weeks. It was a fun science experiment.”
“Volume, though,” Fury said.
“That involved a bathtub and a lot more fudging of data than I’m comfortable admitting,” Barnes said. “I told myself I had to keep some mystery alive. Especially if someone might be able to reverse engineer something about the arm. I gotta keep the arm under wraps.”
“And you just… openly did this as yourself,” Fury said.
Barnes shrugged. “Sure,” he said. “I got a verified account, Natasha got it for me. The Internet knows who I am.”
(no subject)
Sep. 2nd, 2015 01:40 pmSo a DW/LJ exclusive, I guess--
I need to find more people on these two platforms. I've found a number of lovely people on Tumblr, though at the moment I have a post that has gone very mildly viral and am therefore getting a bunch of spam followers (mostly accounts with nonsense names and pornographic photos as avatars). Mostly, there are people on there I enjoy and wish I could get to know. Tumblr does not really allow for that, and the ones I've tried, I keep getting confused with one another because there's so little individuality in that space.
Anyway. I've been very active on Tumblr for the last, like, uh, couple of years, that's how long it's been, ugh-- but it's not meeting a ton of needs and they just keep making the site harder to use. And so when Mhalachai posted the IFTTT recipe I thought, that's what I need to do!
And then I was totally shitty at it. But M saw my notifications and followed me and that made me sort of squee internally and I suppose that, along with all the nice messages many people sent me and other expressions of support, surely makes it worth it.
So I apologize in advance if crossposting makes this space weird, or obnoxious. I take criticism poorly but I will try to be receptive to people telling me if it's really awful, and do something about it. So far it's just made me post to Tumblr less, but that's probably for the best; I hate the whole reblogging culture and sort of tend to go easy on it anyway.
Anyway-- if anyone knew me from before and missed me, it's lovely to be in touch again and I will try better to be around. Sorry if my surface interests have shifted slightly; Tumblr has broken me of my earlier habit of being very shy about posting fanfic, and so I'm a lot more prolific about it now. Lately I've been obsessively in the Captain America fandom, mostly polyshipping Steve and Bucky because OMG how can you not, plus Bucky and Natasha, and pretty much everyone with everyone except for some reason for my very short list of NOTPs.
So I have a huuuuuge Stucky/poly epic up on AO3, and am more done than I can quite admit to myself with a fairly complicated and weird Bucky/Natasha thing, and I have my eye set in the future on working on some original stuff.
Partly the barbarians novel from like 2003 (remember that, anyone?) and partly, I am super intrigued by this book my mother just self-published about the Civil War. It's nonfiction, exhaustively researched-- she looked up everything she could find about every man she could find who fought in the Civil War who either 1) served with our county's regiment or 2) had some other involvement with our town before or after the war. This included going to the sites of battles, visiting graveyards, and in general a great deal of personal expense and trouble to write the stories! They're fairly dry but comprehensive reportings of facts, as well as well-labeled speculation and some cultural context.
Here's a random sampling:
"James Mabb enlisted in Schaghticoke on August 1, 1862 in Company K of the 125th. According to his record card, he was a 34-year old farmer, born in Malta, Saratoga County. He was 5’7” tall, with blue eyes and light hair. Unlike many of his comrades, he was a married man with a family.
James E. Mabb N.Y.S. Record Card [scanned image]
James started out his service well, making it through the surrender at Harpers Ferry and the parole camp in Chicago, but he was reported sick on July 2, 1863. That was the date of the battle of Gettysburg, so I wonder if he was in fact wounded. He was also reported sick in hospital in June of 1864, and in April of 1865, and was ill enough that he was discharged from Campbell Hospital in July 1865, after the rest of the regiment had been mustered out.
He applied for an invalid pension on February 7, 1880, and reported in the 1890 Veterans Census that he had been wounded in the shoulder and leg, and that he was a prisoner in Richmond, Virginia for ten days. There is no reason to doubt either of those events, but they are not reflected on his record card. He must have been disabled in some way to have applied for a pension before they were available just based on old age. It certainly confirms that he was wounded at Gettysburg.
I could not find James in the census before the war, but he returned to Schaghticoke after the war. In the 1865 census, I found him plus his wife Eliza, 30, and three children: Harriet, age 13, and twins Eugene and Loren, age 6. There ages would indicate that he had been married since about 1851. James and family stayed in town at least until 1870, when he and his wife were both listed as 42 in the census, and just the twins were at home, now listed as 12 years old. James was a laborer.
By 1880, James and family had moved to Milton, Saratoga County, where James worked in a tannery. Sons Eugene and Loren, 21, worked in a collar shop. James reported that his parents had both been born in Ireland. The family remained in Milton. Wife Elizabeth Adams died in 1898. The 1900 census reflects this, listing James, 71, as a widower. He and son Loren boarded with the family of Cyrus and Cora Webster. Neither listed any occupation. Find-A-Grave states that James was born in 1828 and died October 16, 1907 and is buried in Section 5, grave 106 of the Ballston Spa Village Cemetery next to his wife. His service is noted on his tombstone. He lived a long life despite disability. "
I want desperately to flesh some of these out! It's such a fascinating resource, but as-is, is so dry! I think it would be really neat to fictionalize some of these profiles. I'd love to collaborate with her on some of it. Maybe with our own ancestors instead of local people, as I know we've a couple of candidates in our own family tree-- just so nobody thinks I'm a weirdo stealing their 5-greats-uncle or whatever-- but I love the idea. Anyway.
I probably couldn't resist either putting in magic or making it all an "id-tastic" porn-fest. (A fellow-Tumblrite summed up all my writing as "idtastic" and I am rather fond of the phrase, but a bit resigned about the implications.)
Anyway. That's the state of the me. Just had my 36th birthday, and got my toenails painted by my 1.5-yr-old niece, and so on. Life is good, if complicated, and continues apace, as it does.
I need to find more people on these two platforms. I've found a number of lovely people on Tumblr, though at the moment I have a post that has gone very mildly viral and am therefore getting a bunch of spam followers (mostly accounts with nonsense names and pornographic photos as avatars). Mostly, there are people on there I enjoy and wish I could get to know. Tumblr does not really allow for that, and the ones I've tried, I keep getting confused with one another because there's so little individuality in that space.
Anyway. I've been very active on Tumblr for the last, like, uh, couple of years, that's how long it's been, ugh-- but it's not meeting a ton of needs and they just keep making the site harder to use. And so when Mhalachai posted the IFTTT recipe I thought, that's what I need to do!
And then I was totally shitty at it. But M saw my notifications and followed me and that made me sort of squee internally and I suppose that, along with all the nice messages many people sent me and other expressions of support, surely makes it worth it.
So I apologize in advance if crossposting makes this space weird, or obnoxious. I take criticism poorly but I will try to be receptive to people telling me if it's really awful, and do something about it. So far it's just made me post to Tumblr less, but that's probably for the best; I hate the whole reblogging culture and sort of tend to go easy on it anyway.
Anyway-- if anyone knew me from before and missed me, it's lovely to be in touch again and I will try better to be around. Sorry if my surface interests have shifted slightly; Tumblr has broken me of my earlier habit of being very shy about posting fanfic, and so I'm a lot more prolific about it now. Lately I've been obsessively in the Captain America fandom, mostly polyshipping Steve and Bucky because OMG how can you not, plus Bucky and Natasha, and pretty much everyone with everyone except for some reason for my very short list of NOTPs.
So I have a huuuuuge Stucky/poly epic up on AO3, and am more done than I can quite admit to myself with a fairly complicated and weird Bucky/Natasha thing, and I have my eye set in the future on working on some original stuff.
Partly the barbarians novel from like 2003 (remember that, anyone?) and partly, I am super intrigued by this book my mother just self-published about the Civil War. It's nonfiction, exhaustively researched-- she looked up everything she could find about every man she could find who fought in the Civil War who either 1) served with our county's regiment or 2) had some other involvement with our town before or after the war. This included going to the sites of battles, visiting graveyards, and in general a great deal of personal expense and trouble to write the stories! They're fairly dry but comprehensive reportings of facts, as well as well-labeled speculation and some cultural context.
Here's a random sampling:
"James Mabb enlisted in Schaghticoke on August 1, 1862 in Company K of the 125th. According to his record card, he was a 34-year old farmer, born in Malta, Saratoga County. He was 5’7” tall, with blue eyes and light hair. Unlike many of his comrades, he was a married man with a family.
James E. Mabb N.Y.S. Record Card [scanned image]
James started out his service well, making it through the surrender at Harpers Ferry and the parole camp in Chicago, but he was reported sick on July 2, 1863. That was the date of the battle of Gettysburg, so I wonder if he was in fact wounded. He was also reported sick in hospital in June of 1864, and in April of 1865, and was ill enough that he was discharged from Campbell Hospital in July 1865, after the rest of the regiment had been mustered out.
He applied for an invalid pension on February 7, 1880, and reported in the 1890 Veterans Census that he had been wounded in the shoulder and leg, and that he was a prisoner in Richmond, Virginia for ten days. There is no reason to doubt either of those events, but they are not reflected on his record card. He must have been disabled in some way to have applied for a pension before they were available just based on old age. It certainly confirms that he was wounded at Gettysburg.
I could not find James in the census before the war, but he returned to Schaghticoke after the war. In the 1865 census, I found him plus his wife Eliza, 30, and three children: Harriet, age 13, and twins Eugene and Loren, age 6. There ages would indicate that he had been married since about 1851. James and family stayed in town at least until 1870, when he and his wife were both listed as 42 in the census, and just the twins were at home, now listed as 12 years old. James was a laborer.
By 1880, James and family had moved to Milton, Saratoga County, where James worked in a tannery. Sons Eugene and Loren, 21, worked in a collar shop. James reported that his parents had both been born in Ireland. The family remained in Milton. Wife Elizabeth Adams died in 1898. The 1900 census reflects this, listing James, 71, as a widower. He and son Loren boarded with the family of Cyrus and Cora Webster. Neither listed any occupation. Find-A-Grave states that James was born in 1828 and died October 16, 1907 and is buried in Section 5, grave 106 of the Ballston Spa Village Cemetery next to his wife. His service is noted on his tombstone. He lived a long life despite disability. "
I want desperately to flesh some of these out! It's such a fascinating resource, but as-is, is so dry! I think it would be really neat to fictionalize some of these profiles. I'd love to collaborate with her on some of it. Maybe with our own ancestors instead of local people, as I know we've a couple of candidates in our own family tree-- just so nobody thinks I'm a weirdo stealing their 5-greats-uncle or whatever-- but I love the idea. Anyway.
I probably couldn't resist either putting in magic or making it all an "id-tastic" porn-fest. (A fellow-Tumblrite summed up all my writing as "idtastic" and I am rather fond of the phrase, but a bit resigned about the implications.)
Anyway. That's the state of the me. Just had my 36th birthday, and got my toenails painted by my 1.5-yr-old niece, and so on. Life is good, if complicated, and continues apace, as it does.
via http://ift.tt/1LUxWIr:
Current status of mermaid hair ends. Keep meaning to to redye, it’s a bit faded. What’s fascinating is how the purple-ish shades are so fugitive, and the yellowish shades endure, meaning blue shifts quickly to green and then lingers.
This weekend I cut off about three inches from the ends, into the bathroom sink, and it just made no difference. The very ends were pretty beat-up and fading to yellow though.
Current status of mermaid hair ends. Keep meaning to to redye, it’s a bit faded. What’s fascinating is how the purple-ish shades are so fugitive, and the yellowish shades endure, meaning blue shifts quickly to green and then lingers.
This weekend I cut off about three inches from the ends, into the bathroom sink, and it just made no difference. The very ends were pretty beat-up and fading to yellow though.