Weekend at Woodland
Apr. 30th, 2012 12:01 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
If it's the end of April, that means it's time for the Scottish Games up in Woodland.
I-80 was something of a parking log most of the way up, but I still got to the fair grounds in time to set up while it was light. Dale had already laid out the camp, set up his bell wedge (with the cannon inside it) and the dining fly and gone.
I was in the eclipse of a large parked van and got my wedge tent up by myself in minutes, and my gear unloaded. Of course, I was straightening up from hammering the last stake when the guy from the WW II Aussie Black Watch camp across from us spotted me and came over to offer help. "You're done?" (Big blue eyes!) "Yes?" "You're alone?" (Eyes even wider - where was my man?) "It's just me." "You don't need any help with anything?" (Utter desolation at being unable to be chivalrous!!!!) And so the dance began.
Rob is 67, retired, and a complete flirt. Should he get a dressing down for presuming it's ok to be huggy and kissy with someone he sees once a year? Nah, (a) Some of it's generational, (b) I've gotten used to a lot of that in the SCA and am okay with it if it's not creepifying, (c) he's harmless and fairly sweet and he does it to Teri too. (Although anyone who thinks I look "cute" in 17th c. common woman kit needs his eyes checked and his head examined) So, when he invited me to eat with them, I said I'd planned to make a run for groceries (which I had) and grab a bite off-site (which I also had) and did they need any last minute supplies from the store?
I picked up fruit, ice and a six pack of Wyder's Pear for camp (I'd already brought a couple cubes of water), plus a box of firewood and a bag of charcoal for the Ladies from Hades, then hit Perry's Cozy Diner for a plate of tri-tip, mashed potatoes and cole slaw. It wasn't spectacular, but it was ok and the waitress took very good care of me.
Returned to site, off loaded my supplies and theirs, parked the truck, then pried the cap off a cider and sat with the Black Watch guys for a bit before turning in.*
Saturday morning, up early (couldn't have slept in if I wanted), grabbed a quick shower in the rest room, traded three store-bought blueberry muffins for a cup of weapons-grade joe from the Black Watch, ratted out Rob to his mates as a shameless flirt that they might administer ribbings at will, then started dealing with the mess inside Captain Shinn's bell wedge so there would be a clear path to move the cannon. Previous experience had forearmed me with one of those pop-up hampers and a couple trash bags. Otherwise folks just lob their trash all over the tent and it has to be cleaned up before tear down. I think I may get one for Dale to keep with his kit.
Weather was pleasant, if a bit gusty. Teri dithered about whether it would be safe to light a fire, but it settled enough that she and Clancy got one going and tended while I chopped vegetables for stew, because M is completely useless for anything except hen pecking her husband and her daughter is purely decorative, so Teri and I pretty much did all the pitcher refilling, she cooked and I dealt with the dirties after lunch. (I have since been informed she has Alzheimer's, but that does not excuse useless-pretty-daughter from cutting up a freakin' carrot or putting things in the trash.)
As our regular drummer would not be there until Sunday, I drummed for the parade Saturday. Nearly a year of working on "Shinkyoku" has done great things for my hand speed and comfort with playing rolls, so doing it on a side-drum while marching was not a huge stretch. It also didn't hurt that we were fairly close to the pipe band that led us in and I could play along with them. Received several compliments from members of the Company, the Captain included. Played sheep-dog with the general public during our firing demonstration and this has to be the first year I didn't have any special snowflakes of the oblivious sort to deal with.
After that I was pretty wiped out for most of the afternoon - might have been the lack of sleep or the cider I had with my stew.
Grant and Julie live in the area, so several of us went to their place for dinner: enchiladas with beans and rice, with apple and blackberry pie for dessert. Somehow we got on the subject of Grant's late dad who served in the Navy and there were some great stories about him. Clancy told us about his stint in a photographic processing unit during the Kennedy and Johnson administrations in DC.
Sunday was more of same. Bill did show up, but Dale told him he wanted him as a musketeer (and whispered in my ear that he would have no other drummer but me), so I did the parade again. We had a couple new folks who are Sutter's Fort connections. The guy was cool and willing to learn. The twinkie who showed up with bad Norman garb and a tartan sash draped across it was pretty vapid and clueless for someone who's supposed to work at a historical site. She did sorta help with crowd control and I taught her the correct way to protect her ears during the cannon firing.
It was great seeing everyone, and Dale definitely wants me to drum for them any time I'd like - to the point he mentioned women serving in the ranks during the ECW. We got packed down in good order and I was home by 7:30 to enjoy a shower.
*(Speaking of which, turning in this weekend appears to have heralded the death knell of my trusty tri-fold mattress. The foam under my hips is probably crumbs by now because I'm a side sleeper and I could NOT get comfortable, which made for little sleep. I have discovered a purveyor of futons that is on the way to Beltane: their website said they stock the real Japanese kind, I called and they have singles in stock as well as foam tri-folds, so I'll stop there Friday night and see what they have.)
I-80 was something of a parking log most of the way up, but I still got to the fair grounds in time to set up while it was light. Dale had already laid out the camp, set up his bell wedge (with the cannon inside it) and the dining fly and gone.
I was in the eclipse of a large parked van and got my wedge tent up by myself in minutes, and my gear unloaded. Of course, I was straightening up from hammering the last stake when the guy from the WW II Aussie Black Watch camp across from us spotted me and came over to offer help. "You're done?" (Big blue eyes!) "Yes?" "You're alone?" (Eyes even wider - where was my man?) "It's just me." "You don't need any help with anything?" (Utter desolation at being unable to be chivalrous!!!!) And so the dance began.
Rob is 67, retired, and a complete flirt. Should he get a dressing down for presuming it's ok to be huggy and kissy with someone he sees once a year? Nah, (a) Some of it's generational, (b) I've gotten used to a lot of that in the SCA and am okay with it if it's not creepifying, (c) he's harmless and fairly sweet and he does it to Teri too. (Although anyone who thinks I look "cute" in 17th c. common woman kit needs his eyes checked and his head examined) So, when he invited me to eat with them, I said I'd planned to make a run for groceries (which I had) and grab a bite off-site (which I also had) and did they need any last minute supplies from the store?
I picked up fruit, ice and a six pack of Wyder's Pear for camp (I'd already brought a couple cubes of water), plus a box of firewood and a bag of charcoal for the Ladies from Hades, then hit Perry's Cozy Diner for a plate of tri-tip, mashed potatoes and cole slaw. It wasn't spectacular, but it was ok and the waitress took very good care of me.
Returned to site, off loaded my supplies and theirs, parked the truck, then pried the cap off a cider and sat with the Black Watch guys for a bit before turning in.*
Saturday morning, up early (couldn't have slept in if I wanted), grabbed a quick shower in the rest room, traded three store-bought blueberry muffins for a cup of weapons-grade joe from the Black Watch, ratted out Rob to his mates as a shameless flirt that they might administer ribbings at will, then started dealing with the mess inside Captain Shinn's bell wedge so there would be a clear path to move the cannon. Previous experience had forearmed me with one of those pop-up hampers and a couple trash bags. Otherwise folks just lob their trash all over the tent and it has to be cleaned up before tear down. I think I may get one for Dale to keep with his kit.
Weather was pleasant, if a bit gusty. Teri dithered about whether it would be safe to light a fire, but it settled enough that she and Clancy got one going and tended while I chopped vegetables for stew, because M is completely useless for anything except hen pecking her husband and her daughter is purely decorative, so Teri and I pretty much did all the pitcher refilling, she cooked and I dealt with the dirties after lunch. (I have since been informed she has Alzheimer's, but that does not excuse useless-pretty-daughter from cutting up a freakin' carrot or putting things in the trash.)
As our regular drummer would not be there until Sunday, I drummed for the parade Saturday. Nearly a year of working on "Shinkyoku" has done great things for my hand speed and comfort with playing rolls, so doing it on a side-drum while marching was not a huge stretch. It also didn't hurt that we were fairly close to the pipe band that led us in and I could play along with them. Received several compliments from members of the Company, the Captain included. Played sheep-dog with the general public during our firing demonstration and this has to be the first year I didn't have any special snowflakes of the oblivious sort to deal with.
After that I was pretty wiped out for most of the afternoon - might have been the lack of sleep or the cider I had with my stew.
Grant and Julie live in the area, so several of us went to their place for dinner: enchiladas with beans and rice, with apple and blackberry pie for dessert. Somehow we got on the subject of Grant's late dad who served in the Navy and there were some great stories about him. Clancy told us about his stint in a photographic processing unit during the Kennedy and Johnson administrations in DC.
Sunday was more of same. Bill did show up, but Dale told him he wanted him as a musketeer (and whispered in my ear that he would have no other drummer but me), so I did the parade again. We had a couple new folks who are Sutter's Fort connections. The guy was cool and willing to learn. The twinkie who showed up with bad Norman garb and a tartan sash draped across it was pretty vapid and clueless for someone who's supposed to work at a historical site. She did sorta help with crowd control and I taught her the correct way to protect her ears during the cannon firing.
It was great seeing everyone, and Dale definitely wants me to drum for them any time I'd like - to the point he mentioned women serving in the ranks during the ECW. We got packed down in good order and I was home by 7:30 to enjoy a shower.
*(Speaking of which, turning in this weekend appears to have heralded the death knell of my trusty tri-fold mattress. The foam under my hips is probably crumbs by now because I'm a side sleeper and I could NOT get comfortable, which made for little sleep. I have discovered a purveyor of futons that is on the way to Beltane: their website said they stock the real Japanese kind, I called and they have singles in stock as well as foam tri-folds, so I'll stop there Friday night and see what they have.)