Fort Marion? - The Castillo...!

I am much better today than I was yesterday. It's kind of gray out, and we have a 50% chance of rain through this afternoon and snow this evening. But it's 40 degrees outside, and I have the patio door open so the kits can run around before I deliver brownies and walk doggies. Nedi just came running back in, smelling of rich damp earth, and making me want to plant something and watch it grow... Thirteen of us appeared for the Easter gathering at Kathy and Jim's; Grandma Anne was snowed in up on Sugarloaf Mountain and had a pea-soup fog to contend with, so she decided to stay at home. Nephew Mike was a whiz in the kitchen - he baked the ham, cooked and mashed the garlic and rosemary potatoes, made a gravy from the ham drippings, and baked fresh pineapple in teriyaki sauce. I had my friend Bret make a fresh fruit tart for me to take, as well as taking fruit cookies and teeny Easter baskets for all the Mom's who were attending. (The baskets had Jolly Rancher jelly beans and Dove dark chocolate eggs in them.)
> In reading about Native American/ Indian history, I have, lately, come across multiple references to "troublesome redskins" being sent to Fort Marion in Florida. I've dug through my memories of state history that I was taught in Florida, and the only place I could think of was the Castillo de San Marcos in Saint Augustine. Having dug through the detritus in my brain, I then looked it up on Google, and was pleased that I had correctly identified the place. No wonder the Indians, who had grown up on the Great Plains and the Southwest, thought going to Fort Marion was such an awful ordeal. They were right on the ocean; the year round heat and humidity would have been oppressive after living out in the open west; being confined inside the Castillo and forced to share the areas with other natural-born enemies; and, of course, the cramped areas and more exposure to the white man's diseases, against which they had no immunity. I can't think of anything more inhumane. - Or is that my 13-times great grandmother's (supposed) Powhatan blood speaking? - All I know is I agree with the old standard, "Don't Fence Me In" ! And every time I see open plains with few fences, I want to climb into a saddle and just ride on forever....