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Yes, I finally got off my ass and went to an event.
I don't like camping over much. It's not because I'm a wimp, it's because I'm prone to debilitating leg cramps that feel like muscle is being torn out with hooks. I don't like pain. Ok, maybe I am a wimp.
Anyway, War Camp was a happy Pennsic microcosm. The weather was mostly wet and miserable and our tent leaked like an untrained puppy. I mean, our stuff was soaked. Really, really soaked. Asa took this with unexpected calm, "it's just like boat conditions." Mental note, boats are bad.
We both got to try out the new wickelbander. They bear a striking resemblance to ace bandages, complete with the little hooks. I want some slang for these things, since all apropos names (wickelbander, legwraps, putte, winingas) kind of suck. Birka Bandaid keeps running through my mind.
Not only did they look spiffy, intentionally, 9-11th century Saxon-Danish, they were very comfortable. I had some slippage issues, but I suspect those will fade as we get the hang of wrapping them. Asa did all the weaving and even made the little tags. I ended up sewing the tags on; I was glad they stayed secure.
I go to events primarily to see friends and chat. I got to see tons of people I hadn't seen in too long. I had the fun of introducing some old friends to the SCA, it was their second event.
I actually sat through court. It was nice to see people I like get various recognitions. I must say that Brion makes a cool king. The pirate schtick was actually led by an old friend of mine. I later tracked him down ("Howie, you dork!") and he explained that the king had put him up to it. He felt a long court needed some comic relief. Vivat!
The Bhakail potluck was awesome, as usual. There's a reason we choose to camp with a barony that has nothing to do with were we live; we just like these people. Everyone seemed to enjoy our offering. We'll be talking more to Christoff about food stuff, I think. He did a great job pulling everything together for our meal.
I drank, um, a lot. I will take this moment to apologize to my camp. Myself and my comrades, in our inebriation, were probably far to annoying for those desiring sleep. There was absinthe and Gavin's always exceptional mead. Hmm... since Gavin doesn't read this...
If you want to know about brewing, talk to this man. There is simply no one who knows more about mead. He seems to methodically apply the scientific method to his historical research. He makes literally dozens of batches of mead with minor variants to test thoroughly one aspect or another of a process. I've never had anything he's made that wasn't exceptional. I've also never managed to ask him a question to which his answer wasn't well researched and well reasoned.
Ok, that's it. I've rambled on long enough. I'm not going to Pennsic, so this was it for me. I'm tired but content.
I don't like camping over much. It's not because I'm a wimp, it's because I'm prone to debilitating leg cramps that feel like muscle is being torn out with hooks. I don't like pain. Ok, maybe I am a wimp.
Anyway, War Camp was a happy Pennsic microcosm. The weather was mostly wet and miserable and our tent leaked like an untrained puppy. I mean, our stuff was soaked. Really, really soaked. Asa took this with unexpected calm, "it's just like boat conditions." Mental note, boats are bad.
We both got to try out the new wickelbander. They bear a striking resemblance to ace bandages, complete with the little hooks. I want some slang for these things, since all apropos names (wickelbander, legwraps, putte, winingas) kind of suck. Birka Bandaid keeps running through my mind.
Not only did they look spiffy, intentionally, 9-11th century Saxon-Danish, they were very comfortable. I had some slippage issues, but I suspect those will fade as we get the hang of wrapping them. Asa did all the weaving and even made the little tags. I ended up sewing the tags on; I was glad they stayed secure.
I go to events primarily to see friends and chat. I got to see tons of people I hadn't seen in too long. I had the fun of introducing some old friends to the SCA, it was their second event.
I actually sat through court. It was nice to see people I like get various recognitions. I must say that Brion makes a cool king. The pirate schtick was actually led by an old friend of mine. I later tracked him down ("Howie, you dork!") and he explained that the king had put him up to it. He felt a long court needed some comic relief. Vivat!
The Bhakail potluck was awesome, as usual. There's a reason we choose to camp with a barony that has nothing to do with were we live; we just like these people. Everyone seemed to enjoy our offering. We'll be talking more to Christoff about food stuff, I think. He did a great job pulling everything together for our meal.
I drank, um, a lot. I will take this moment to apologize to my camp. Myself and my comrades, in our inebriation, were probably far to annoying for those desiring sleep. There was absinthe and Gavin's always exceptional mead. Hmm... since Gavin doesn't read this...
If you want to know about brewing, talk to this man. There is simply no one who knows more about mead. He seems to methodically apply the scientific method to his historical research. He makes literally dozens of batches of mead with minor variants to test thoroughly one aspect or another of a process. I've never had anything he's made that wasn't exceptional. I've also never managed to ask him a question to which his answer wasn't well researched and well reasoned.
Ok, that's it. I've rambled on long enough. I'm not going to Pennsic, so this was it for me. I'm tired but content.