Estrella War
Feb. 19th, 2008 08:16 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
gurdymonkeyExhausted. Things are starting to blur, like dye running on rain sodden sleeves.
Bookended by two very long stints in the truck, and punctuated by just enough rain to turn the roads into chocolate pudding for three days, I confess, I did not get out of camp much. Bardic whup-ass, in fact, bardic anything just did not happen for me. If I blew off showering for three days because it involved hiking through ankle deep mud to and from, I was certainly not going to venture far from camp at night in the dark, especially after losing my footing on the way to the privy one night and deciding that a pile of garbage bags was a better target than the puddle beside it. Just as well, my voice was pretty much shot after one night in the cold and I probably didn't need to try to sing anyhow.
When I drove down Harfleur Road on Wednesday afternoon and saw the gate thatpurplepenguin had built for us, I about wept.(Lanterns and banners were not up, but the gate and walls were). It was perfect. He and Yoshi had set-up well underway and I got unloaded and pitched my pavilion near the front entrance. Sakurai-dono, all the way from Newfoundland and at his first really big event, turned up at the gate while I was still banging around in a T-shirt and my new tattsukebakama. He bowed. I bowed - then suddenly found myself with a double armful of beaming bushi. Just as sweet as he is online, the softspoken Canadian accent was a bonus.
I did get out Thursday for a bit with George and the hurdy gurdy for a few laps around Merchant's Row and ended up talking hurdy-gurdy shop with Bruno (Kevin) from Wolgemut for a few minutes because he recognized me, of all things. Ran into Jenne and Malcolm, former Rusted Woodlands friends, scored a hug from the King of the East (!), had lunch with Rowan and Guernin, two bardic laurels from the Outlands, and ran intosirtanaka and one of his new squires. The Katayama contingent of our camp rolled in late that afternoon. No sign of Otagiri-dono though. The sake party was intimate and laid back, though we did ring in the lunar new year with 108 strokes upon purplepenguin's gong, some good sake and umeshu. Mitsuhide offered to play bartender, so I let him help pour. Of the various sake I had amassed, the only one that was a complete waste was the Takara Sierra Cold. One of our guests, a friend of purplepenguin's treated us to the exquisitely complex taste of Kurosawa sake. Amazing stuff. dustinmartinez once again rained destruction - and glitter - with one of his Chinese New Year confetti bazookas (the Han bastard), while his lovely Lady Wu and I contemplated how long it would take to reach the plums in the bottom of the Choya bottle.
We got rain Thursday night into Friday morning. It was grey, cold and drizzling when Otagiri pulled up across the road. I was shrugging into my heavy green wool tunic when I heard Yoshi ask him if he needed help. I heard him say no. Yoshi believed him. Not being a Big Dumb Barely Awake Guy, I didn't, waded through the mud and started helping put together pieces of carport. (OK, so he's Colorado Rocky Mountain High Guy and saw nothing wrong with going shirtless in the rain, but I could see my breath! Not Mine To Worry About, I told myself and didn't say a word.)
purplepenguin noticed I had not hit the kitchen tent for tea and showed up to help turn the carport into a shack with a roof and three walls made almost entirely out of plastic bamboo blinds. Tea was made and ferried across the road into Dragonsspine territory at least twice before he armored up and went out to fight.
I took my camera and went down to the battlefield with the Katayamas. Ran into Sakurai-dono who was playing with the Calontir army with permission from his king. Managed to get some decent photos, despite the fact that I was trying to shoot friends from five different kingdoms, most of whom stand 5'9" or under and are easy to lose in a melee.
EDIT. I forgot Cotter Pin Guy! I had stopped to get something out of my haversack and was looking down when I see something shiny sail into view and land at my feet. "THERE it is!" I hear and look up to see a man in armor fiddling with his tabard, just as I bend to pick it up. He declares me to be "good luck." The pin had been holding his pauldron in place, he'd been hit, it had come out and fallen down inside his tabard during the fight. I, of course, insist on helping put it back where it belongs, which involves a fair bit of fiddling and getting grommetted straps back over the stud on his shoulder without tangling them back up in the tabard and ramming the pin into place. I'm glad I was good luck for somebody.
Otagiri hadn't eaten anything, so I had an iced tea with him while he ate lunch and we got some face time in the food court before I went off to teach my class at 5. I stopped by the period encampment to say hi to Johann, who was teaching people how to make plucked psalteries. I only had one of my four sign-ups actually attend Musical History Tour, but she did seem to enjoy it. By then the roads had gotten quite muddy and getting around was starting to be challenging.
Hatshepsut,purplepenguin's lady, arrived that evening. It was cold and there was a great deal of effort expended in trying to get a fire going with wet wood. She and Otagiri took turns fanning away and after application of a large quantity of lighter fluid, we did get a rather smoky fire - and a bit more rain.
Out of the night, a dark figure appeared in the gate, perkily cried "Ohayo gozaimasu!" despite the time and bowed before entering. I bowed back and welcomed her in English. I think her name was Aki something and I want to know if her parents knew where she was. She proceeded to blurt out a highly complicated and improbable persona story about being kidnapped by ninja Vikings who cut her hair so she can never go back to Japan or something. I refrained from pointing out to a thirteen year old the eminently viable option of taking the tonsure as a Buddhist nun as being far too historically accurate for her.
Saturday continued to be muddy. Otagiri splashed over with a box of oatmeal and a bowl when we hailed his shack and told him hot water was up. I blew off a shower in favor of a sponge bath in my tent with a billy of warm water and some wet wipes. I shoulda packed the higher geta. The short ones were muddy to the tops and my non-period blue wool socks were a horror show by the time I got down the road in them. I did get some "Wow" reactions in Merchant's Row while sailing around in my veiled hat, including a "Hey, you're HER!" from someone who'd seen my website.takadai_no_tora and Yukiko attended my Literary Ladies class in the afternoon. (Note to self, take textile books to Crown - must consult with Yukiko-hime on new wafuku she can fence in.)
I made Japanese "chicken noodle soup." Knorr's Chinese chicken and shiitake mushroom soup mix, water, BIG chunks of white meat chicken, green onion and daikon, simmered. I was going to boil the soba separately, but the second pot would NOT come to a boil, so I ended up just chucking them into the soup pot. It's a winner. I will make this again. Tasty, hearty and filling.
Mitsuhide was to be squired to Duke Jonathon von Trotha of Atenveldt. After waiting out the end of Great Court (part of it hanging out in the Chirurgeon's Point with Hatshepsut, part of it cruising Merchants' Row), we returned to camp. Mitsuhide came and found us and Yoshi, Otagiri, Yagyu (all wearing or carrying swords) and I walked up the block for the proceedings. His knight's household was a bastion of European-ness and I can't help wondering what they thought of the squire-to-be arriving with reinforcements. Mitsuhide talks like Bill and Ted, can't remember my name five times out of seven and is at a stage in life where he doesn't realize that HE is the one who ultimately will define what sort of person he is, not his knight, but he's a sweet guy, so we went, radiating Japanese support. When he was presented with his new red, obligatory leather belt with a ring for a buckle, his knight suggested that he might eventually get one more appropriate to his persona. Upon offering my congratulations to Mitsuhide following the proceedings, I offered to make him an obi for dress wear. (I think I still have some of the red silk left from the "Shoot Me" kosode....)
Saturday night was freaking cold. Sunday morning, barefoot and muddy to the knees, Otagiri began tearing down and packing as much as he could, presumably before trying to get in one more battle before leaving. I had to be presentable and at the A&S display by 10:30. Again, despite not being able to get to the showers, I looked fabulously period from the ankles up and you can't actually SEE the red fleece socks and mud caked Birkenstock clogs in this photo.
The display coordinator stuck me at the end of a table where I could be seen. Trouble is, people expect to see garb displayed on dummies or artifacts out on the table. Some people noticed me, some just could not put 2 + 2 (portrait on the documentation folder cover and what I was wearing) together. I wanted to clout the idiot who was trying to convince the young ladies beside me that they could've used a computer with a calligraphic font and a photo editor to create their stunning scrolls. I likewise wanted to clout the laurel who told me he "didn't give 10's," but my outfit was a 9 and he was going to come back and steal it from me. "Over my cold, dead body, sir," I informed him. Go give someone else a 9 in your tatty tunic and slouch hat. I am not here to be quantified, I am here to redefine your world view, monkey boy. And while we're at it, a clout for the organizers who had cookies, but no water for the prisoners chained to their tables for three hours in the desert, thank you very much. I did get my picture taken several times, got told by a kid who'd seen my website how inspiring I was - I'm never quite sure how to take that. I also passed out more business cards than I amassed tokens.
I decided I was going to have a root beer float for lunch after that! Despite dire tales of illness, who do I spy in the food court but a turban looming atop a very tall man, namelysasha_khan. We managed a bit of a visit in an empty merchant's tent along with takadai_no_tora before I headed back to camp. I received several compliments on my outfit on the way back. In fact, I passed a camp in which two kids were poring over a book and double-taked when they saw me. It took a prompting from Mom for one of them to hold up the Dover coloring book of Japanese Fashions and ask me. "Oh, yes, I'm in there!" I said, and flipped it to the page showing a Kamakura lady in bughat with a kakemamori around her neck. The illos are obviously based on the Kyoto Costume Museum's exhibits.
When I returned to camp it was to discover that I'd missed saying goodbye to Otagiri and that the Katayamas were packing out. I saw them off, changed into a tunic and got out the hurdy gurdy. It was just too nice an afternoon and I wanted to play a little, which I did. Had dinner and made a fire with Hatshepsut and Yagyu, then crashed for the night.
I was up, packed and off site on schedule Monday morning and made it home in excellent time, staying up only long enough to have a shower and wash my hair.
Rising Sun worked. Everyone got along. Everyone loved it. Everyone said, "Yes, let's do it again." I am tickled silly, I am relieved, I am profoundly grateful to everyone who got on board with this project and made a what-if a reality.
When I drove down Harfleur Road on Wednesday afternoon and saw the gate that
purplepenguin had built for us, I about wept.(Lanterns and banners were not up, but the gate and walls were). It was perfect. He and Yoshi had set-up well underway and I got unloaded and pitched my pavilion near the front entrance. Sakurai-dono, all the way from Newfoundland and at his first really big event, turned up at the gate while I was still banging around in a T-shirt and my new tattsukebakama. He bowed. I bowed - then suddenly found myself with a double armful of beaming bushi. Just as sweet as he is online, the softspoken Canadian accent was a bonus. I did get out Thursday for a bit with George and the hurdy gurdy for a few laps around Merchant's Row and ended up talking hurdy-gurdy shop with Bruno (Kevin) from Wolgemut for a few minutes because he recognized me, of all things. Ran into Jenne and Malcolm, former Rusted Woodlands friends, scored a hug from the King of the East (!), had lunch with Rowan and Guernin, two bardic laurels from the Outlands, and ran into
sirtanaka and one of his new squires. The Katayama contingent of our camp rolled in late that afternoon. No sign of Otagiri-dono though. The sake party was intimate and laid back, though we did ring in the lunar new year with 108 strokes upon purplepenguin's gong, some good sake and umeshu. Mitsuhide offered to play bartender, so I let him help pour. Of the various sake I had amassed, the only one that was a complete waste was the Takara Sierra Cold. One of our guests, a friend of purplepenguin's treated us to the exquisitely complex taste of Kurosawa sake. Amazing stuff. dustinmartinez once again rained destruction - and glitter - with one of his Chinese New Year confetti bazookas (the Han bastard), while his lovely Lady Wu and I contemplated how long it would take to reach the plums in the bottom of the Choya bottle. We got rain Thursday night into Friday morning. It was grey, cold and drizzling when Otagiri pulled up across the road. I was shrugging into my heavy green wool tunic when I heard Yoshi ask him if he needed help. I heard him say no. Yoshi believed him. Not being a Big Dumb Barely Awake Guy, I didn't, waded through the mud and started helping put together pieces of carport. (OK, so he's Colorado Rocky Mountain High Guy and saw nothing wrong with going shirtless in the rain, but I could see my breath! Not Mine To Worry About, I told myself and didn't say a word.)
purplepenguin noticed I had not hit the kitchen tent for tea and showed up to help turn the carport into a shack with a roof and three walls made almost entirely out of plastic bamboo blinds. Tea was made and ferried across the road into Dragonsspine territory at least twice before he armored up and went out to fight. I took my camera and went down to the battlefield with the Katayamas. Ran into Sakurai-dono who was playing with the Calontir army with permission from his king. Managed to get some decent photos, despite the fact that I was trying to shoot friends from five different kingdoms, most of whom stand 5'9" or under and are easy to lose in a melee.
EDIT. I forgot Cotter Pin Guy! I had stopped to get something out of my haversack and was looking down when I see something shiny sail into view and land at my feet. "THERE it is!" I hear and look up to see a man in armor fiddling with his tabard, just as I bend to pick it up. He declares me to be "good luck." The pin had been holding his pauldron in place, he'd been hit, it had come out and fallen down inside his tabard during the fight. I, of course, insist on helping put it back where it belongs, which involves a fair bit of fiddling and getting grommetted straps back over the stud on his shoulder without tangling them back up in the tabard and ramming the pin into place. I'm glad I was good luck for somebody.
Otagiri hadn't eaten anything, so I had an iced tea with him while he ate lunch and we got some face time in the food court before I went off to teach my class at 5. I stopped by the period encampment to say hi to Johann, who was teaching people how to make plucked psalteries. I only had one of my four sign-ups actually attend Musical History Tour, but she did seem to enjoy it. By then the roads had gotten quite muddy and getting around was starting to be challenging.
Hatshepsut,
purplepenguin's lady, arrived that evening. It was cold and there was a great deal of effort expended in trying to get a fire going with wet wood. She and Otagiri took turns fanning away and after application of a large quantity of lighter fluid, we did get a rather smoky fire - and a bit more rain. Out of the night, a dark figure appeared in the gate, perkily cried "Ohayo gozaimasu!" despite the time and bowed before entering. I bowed back and welcomed her in English. I think her name was Aki something and I want to know if her parents knew where she was. She proceeded to blurt out a highly complicated and improbable persona story about being kidnapped by ninja Vikings who cut her hair so she can never go back to Japan or something. I refrained from pointing out to a thirteen year old the eminently viable option of taking the tonsure as a Buddhist nun as being far too historically accurate for her.
Saturday continued to be muddy. Otagiri splashed over with a box of oatmeal and a bowl when we hailed his shack and told him hot water was up. I blew off a shower in favor of a sponge bath in my tent with a billy of warm water and some wet wipes. I shoulda packed the higher geta. The short ones were muddy to the tops and my non-period blue wool socks were a horror show by the time I got down the road in them. I did get some "Wow" reactions in Merchant's Row while sailing around in my veiled hat, including a "Hey, you're HER!" from someone who'd seen my website.
takadai_no_tora and Yukiko attended my Literary Ladies class in the afternoon. (Note to self, take textile books to Crown - must consult with Yukiko-hime on new wafuku she can fence in.)I made Japanese "chicken noodle soup." Knorr's Chinese chicken and shiitake mushroom soup mix, water, BIG chunks of white meat chicken, green onion and daikon, simmered. I was going to boil the soba separately, but the second pot would NOT come to a boil, so I ended up just chucking them into the soup pot. It's a winner. I will make this again. Tasty, hearty and filling.
Mitsuhide was to be squired to Duke Jonathon von Trotha of Atenveldt. After waiting out the end of Great Court (part of it hanging out in the Chirurgeon's Point with Hatshepsut, part of it cruising Merchants' Row), we returned to camp. Mitsuhide came and found us and Yoshi, Otagiri, Yagyu (all wearing or carrying swords) and I walked up the block for the proceedings. His knight's household was a bastion of European-ness and I can't help wondering what they thought of the squire-to-be arriving with reinforcements. Mitsuhide talks like Bill and Ted, can't remember my name five times out of seven and is at a stage in life where he doesn't realize that HE is the one who ultimately will define what sort of person he is, not his knight, but he's a sweet guy, so we went, radiating Japanese support. When he was presented with his new red, obligatory leather belt with a ring for a buckle, his knight suggested that he might eventually get one more appropriate to his persona. Upon offering my congratulations to Mitsuhide following the proceedings, I offered to make him an obi for dress wear. (I think I still have some of the red silk left from the "Shoot Me" kosode....)
Saturday night was freaking cold. Sunday morning, barefoot and muddy to the knees, Otagiri began tearing down and packing as much as he could, presumably before trying to get in one more battle before leaving. I had to be presentable and at the A&S display by 10:30. Again, despite not being able to get to the showers, I looked fabulously period from the ankles up and you can't actually SEE the red fleece socks and mud caked Birkenstock clogs in this photo.
The display coordinator stuck me at the end of a table where I could be seen. Trouble is, people expect to see garb displayed on dummies or artifacts out on the table. Some people noticed me, some just could not put 2 + 2 (portrait on the documentation folder cover and what I was wearing) together. I wanted to clout the idiot who was trying to convince the young ladies beside me that they could've used a computer with a calligraphic font and a photo editor to create their stunning scrolls. I likewise wanted to clout the laurel who told me he "didn't give 10's," but my outfit was a 9 and he was going to come back and steal it from me. "Over my cold, dead body, sir," I informed him. Go give someone else a 9 in your tatty tunic and slouch hat. I am not here to be quantified, I am here to redefine your world view, monkey boy. And while we're at it, a clout for the organizers who had cookies, but no water for the prisoners chained to their tables for three hours in the desert, thank you very much. I did get my picture taken several times, got told by a kid who'd seen my website how inspiring I was - I'm never quite sure how to take that. I also passed out more business cards than I amassed tokens.
I decided I was going to have a root beer float for lunch after that! Despite dire tales of illness, who do I spy in the food court but a turban looming atop a very tall man, namely
sasha_khan. We managed a bit of a visit in an empty merchant's tent along with takadai_no_tora before I headed back to camp. I received several compliments on my outfit on the way back. In fact, I passed a camp in which two kids were poring over a book and double-taked when they saw me. It took a prompting from Mom for one of them to hold up the Dover coloring book of Japanese Fashions and ask me. "Oh, yes, I'm in there!" I said, and flipped it to the page showing a Kamakura lady in bughat with a kakemamori around her neck. The illos are obviously based on the Kyoto Costume Museum's exhibits. When I returned to camp it was to discover that I'd missed saying goodbye to Otagiri and that the Katayamas were packing out. I saw them off, changed into a tunic and got out the hurdy gurdy. It was just too nice an afternoon and I wanted to play a little, which I did. Had dinner and made a fire with Hatshepsut and Yagyu, then crashed for the night.
I was up, packed and off site on schedule Monday morning and made it home in excellent time, staying up only long enough to have a shower and wash my hair.
Rising Sun worked. Everyone got along. Everyone loved it. Everyone said, "Yes, let's do it again." I am tickled silly, I am relieved, I am profoundly grateful to everyone who got on board with this project and made a what-if a reality.
