I just finished a history of Andrew Jackson, which is what had me thinking about the Chickasaw. By Blount, I think…a good book.

But Jackson’s role was as the conqueror, and the book had little real history of the Indians. There is a museum near here of Native American history, and the kids and I may go this coming week (they’re off, and I want some activities to do with them that are fun!) I’m hoping I’ll find a good history book there—I’ll pass it along if I do.

It’s nice to be at a place in life where I enjoy reading things I’ve never thought much about before. Like history. Did I ever tell you my mother was an archeologist, and fascinated with the Indian tribes in the southern United States? I remember being taken on many a dig in Arkansas and Texas with my younger brother. It ishilarious, looking back…there I was, age 13 or so, just old enough to be terribly self-conscious of how I looked, and we’d be stuck in the desert for a week in the camp, sifting DIRT, sweat rolling off us. Mom loved every minute of it. I was taught how to frame a site, and carefully brush away the dirt, looking for ?what? They never could tell me exactly, but I figured arrowheads were good. Once we did find one, and I was narrowly stopped from yanking it out. “Why not?!” I was shocked! They wanted to brush the dirt carefully away, and at the end of the week, they were still brushing…..so I never got to see the whole thing.

Thus ended any interest I might have had in archeology!