I’m not sure how long the weather’s been this nice in Atlanta, because I spent all of last week sick and stuck inside. I’ve had bad allergies, plus some weird kind of Victorian lady faintness, which is funny in theory but annoying in real life. I couldn’t do much except for sit in the house and rest, but I did get a lot of reading done, and I’m almost finally done with the first book of the Civil War trilogy. Lately it’s been hard to put it down–the battles keep getting more and more interesting, and the generals even more so. Then our PBS station aired a new American Experience documentary called Death and the Civil War, and it made the war become even more real to me, in a very morbid way.
So on Saturday when the day was beautiful and we had nothing planned, we decided to go to Pickett’s Mill Battlefield, west of the city. I’ve been wanting to see it for a long time, especially since it’s one of the few battlefields around Atlanta that was preserved. But then I started to feel dizzy again, or maybe I just imagined I was feeling dizzy since I’d fainted the night before. So we put off the battlefield and went to the Atlanta History Center instead. The exhibits are air-conditioned, and even though I’d already seen the Civl War ones I wanted to see them again. Especially the exhibit about the war in Atlanta. I can never get over the photos of 1860s Atlanta, when the heart of downtown looked like a little country village. I like looking at the old maps and picking out our neighborhood, which back then was just a forest on the way to Pace’s Ferry.
After that we walked out back to the Tullie Smith House to take photos for a Southerly post, and accidentally caught the tail end of the Fall Folk Life Festival. The only thing still open was the petting zoo, which was fine by me. I made a beeline straight to the goats because I love them, but then I saw an alpaca that was even cuter. His name was Dudley, and he was just a baby who needed someone by him at all times. He snuggled and then would cry whenever you tried to walk away. When I was 23 or so and had just learned to knit, I wanted more than anything else to move to the country and start an alpaca farm. Now I kind of want to again.