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"Welcome to Pennsic, where topless hopscotch is *not* the weirdest… - Then You Get Up And Have Breakfast [entries|archive|friends|userinfo]
Whole lotta labia.

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[Aug. 11th, 2008|09:03 pm]
Whole lotta labia.
"Welcome to Pennsic, where topless hopscotch is *not* the weirdest thing happening on your block tonight."

Just to interrupt - Mym has the most awesome car repair story.. and it's not even her car repair story.

The rental trailer got me there in one piece and was remarkably easy to drive, if a bit of a cunt to back up. I liked being able to pack with some abandon but found that it made me more cavalier and less organized. Next year I'll stage better beforehand rather than just chucking in just because we have space. I did manage a win at making sure the bedding was readily available when we got on site. The parking lot party was fantastic, as always, and though the land grab was a bit mussed we were still pretty early getting through land grab and getting all the gear on site.

Setup was remarkably fast. Either we're all getting really good at this, the weather was just perfect, or many hands make light work. Or some combination of the three. Regardless, it was lovely. I did okay without the girl for a night though I missed her terribly. But I was so exhausted I fell asleep before I could get sniffly about it.

Speaking of TBD, she handled set-up week like a champ. She ate what we ate (including jambalaya, garlic chicken pasta, and her weight in mandarin orange slices), she slept remarkably well including some champion afternoon naps, she was pleasant, cute, and while she was into everything she wasn't in any danger. My lovely clan was great about stepping in if they thought I needed a hand even though I felt sheepish asking. While we have the camp rule that all adults are in charge of all the kids that *doesn't* mean that all adults are responsible for all the kids. We'll pull them out of the fire pit if necessary and chastise them appropriately but we're not default child care for each other so I didn't want to impose too much. This is my war with my kid and if Steve and I can't handle her ourselves we shouldn't bring her. We did a great job of that but I'm thankful that my child is so easy that other people graciously offered to hold her while I peed or get her out of the rain while I parked the car or some such.

I found that pushing her in the stroller really didn't work though. For one thing it's big and clunky and I felt awkward and clumsy. For another it puts her quite far away from me and facing in the other direction which makes me feel distant from her and like we're not really together. I realized this and a few other things about parenting at War on like Tuesday of setup week and did a serious mental reset on Wednesday. I wore her in the sling all day, we spent a lot more time together, and I found that I was enjoying myself and her a hell of a lot more. Nicely done. She had good days with me, good days with Daddy, and she was an utter delight. I was sad to see her go on Sunday morning but the few days of quiet time as adults were nice too. Hopefully St's folks will be up for a repeat next year.

War week was a rush of stuff, classes, people, bartending, laughing, and one three hour nap that I, apparently, really needed. I got a couple of lovely gifts from my lovely husband and some lovely wee pressies from others (yay turtle veil pin!) I wore my Turkish coats (which need tweaking), my Viking dresses (which I still love like craziness) and actually managed to avoid wearing my pajamas up to the food court like I've done in past years. I brought too many clothes and yet wore the same things over and over because I like them best. When I pack the laundry after it's cleaned I'm going to do a serious vetting and try to figure out who needs what's left because it can't come to War with me again and just sit there taking up space.

In the "stuff bought" category there are bits to make more dance stuff, spices, incense, beads to remake my viking swag, belt findings, buttons, books, and (at last count) sixty-five yards of fabric. *gulp* That's a fun story though. I went up to the place where I usually buy my linen and there were bolts and bolts of crappy colors. Well, crappy for reenacting anyway. Bright aquas and hot pinks and these atrocious lime greens. But they were $3 a yard. For LINEN! So I asked how they handled overdying. The proprietor said he didn't know, apparently he bought somewhere in the neighborhood of 30,000 yards thinking he'd get it overdyed at a mill and no mill would touch it. I said I'd love to see how they did and that I'd take a yard of fabric for each of the families of colors (a blue, a pink, and a couple of greens) he recommended which colors in those families might do best and he didn't charge me on the condition that I bring the results back.

Dude. People. The colors!! Gorgeous forest and hunter greens, navy, royal, scarlet, plum, indigo, just amazing. With a box of RIT and a stockpot on the camp stove. Not perfect, but enough for a proof of concept. I took them back and the owners were just tickled pink. By the time I'd left they'd cleared out all but a couple of small bolts based just on the swatches they'd laid out on the table. I might have hoped for a small discount for my efforts but exactly how much cheaper did I want to get 58" 100% linen? So I bought a lot and I'll dye it based on the yardage I need for certain projects and we'll see how it looks. cussata has some supplies, I'm getting others, it'll be fun. TBD's going to need clothes, St's going to need chausses, cotes, and a couple of arming tunics and I'm going to want

I took a class on prostitution in medieval India, one on relic lists (not relics, as I had originally thought) and a couple of other really fun ones. I made it to exactly none of the dance classes I wanted to take. Really it was just a matter of not wanting to hike over there or having other things to do or not having company. Next year I draft more company. I had tea in the coffee house, read a bit (but not as much as I'd planned), and plotted and planned project for next year. The "You Never Eat the Tuna" list for this year is long and varied and I think it'll make a big difference in my War next year.

And I danced. And danced. And danced. I had a great time. I even got dolled up to dance the night of our party but the drummers stopped too early. Feh. Still, our party was seven shades of awesome and we made enough in tips to pay for the storage unit! ST and the baby headed home on Saturday afternoon and I finished packing up, had dinner at the Gate, played cards with the guys in the pub, and told stories around the fire for a few hours before heading to bed just as the rain started. I finished loading up on Sunday morning, did the run to storage and got to give a little love to our beloved Brock the Cutie, and then came back to bid goodbye to Mym and Widge, Kendrah and Rook and the lovely Silver Phoenix crew, and meet up with the remnants of the pub for lunch at the diner. A splendid grilled cheese later and I was on the road home. I got in about 6:30 and kissed and loved on my family before falling *hard* asleep.

Now begins the parade of laundry.

I won't go into the trailer shenanigans for the ride home, it will suffice to say that we have a fantastic, free, and fully operational trailer parked in front of our house and we'll make good use of it in future years.

War was, as always, fantastic. Not quite as good as 35 but the weather was stunning, the people were perfection, and there were just enough "I taste a hint of cinnamon in this beer" style asshats to make life interesting. (The beer in question? Budweiser.) Stories upon request.

The weirdest thing happening on our block that night? Hat golf.

[User Picture]From: wizardglick
2008-08-12 01:17 am (UTC)
"Welcome to Pennsic, where topless hopscotch is *not* the weirdest thing happening on your block tonight."

You win quote of the year. :-)
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[User Picture]From: make_your_move
2008-08-12 01:54 am (UTC)
Miss you already.

Being home in comfy pajamas though? Total. Score
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[User Picture]From: eklectick
2008-08-14 05:34 pm (UTC)
"sixty-five yards of fabric"

*Blink* *blink, blink, blink* Dude, that might beat Johanna and Dame Brenna put together. On a good year... Go you. And your RIT adventure just saved be from some horrible past mistakes "now what the hell do I do with this" - thank you!

Best part of my war was getting my guy into real Italian Ren, and getting my hair wound up in a seven-strand braid round and round the top of my head, with pearls, - never had that before.
(Reply) (Thread)