Post by Saionji Shonagon on Feb 19, 2007 19:20:41 GMT -5
I wake up in the dark wondering if I was having a weird dream. I'm in my tent, I'm pretty sure it's Estrella because I can see the darker shape of the hanging shelf overhead and I don't use it for weekending. So why am I hearing doo wop? "Pretty Woman" in three part harmony. The tenor isn't bad. The bass is quite good, I note as I poke my head a little further out of my sleeping bag. "Whoa-whoa, pretty woman!" comes to a rousing finish and I hear the inimitable slam of portajohn door across the road. The trio segue into "We Three Soldiers Be" and fade off into the night. Cue doumbeks with baladi. Right. I am at war.
I'd gotten onto site on Wednesday afternoon and spent most of that on camp set-up for myself and my friends. We seem to have a fair number of walking wounded this year. Vigdis is on the mend from ankle surgery, Elsa was sporting a sprained wrist and Frederick of Holland was having periodic bursitis pain in his shoulder. The good news is that he's FINALLY recovered enough from wrist surgery for an injury two Pennsics ago and got to go out and fight for the West in some battles.
Speaking of walking wounded, I was appalled to open my hurdy gurdy case on Thursday morning and discover that the instrument was wet. REALLY wet. All I can think is that one of the water jugs I'd packed in the back of the truck had leaked into the case somehow. The sound board was visibly warped. I set it on a stool outside in the sun and hoped that the desert air would effect a cure.
For one brief, shining hour on Thursday morning, it was Christmas. As Jehanne, I taught a half a dozen persevering souls several medieval/Renaissance Christmas carols. I say persevering because while the site handout had class descriptions listed therein, there were not dates or times anywhere. If you wanted to take a class, you had to FIND the A&S tent. As the map in the site book did not indicate where the A&S tent and other important locations actually were, the challenge became exponentially more complicated, unless one had previously printed out the version of the map that appeared on the war's website. While I realize a new site is going to experience some growing pains, I am scratching my head over what was printed as a site book this year. They've been doing that part for how many years now?
I took the hurdy gurdy out. I tinkered madly for an unmeasured period, applying cotton and rosin, removing paper bridge shims and at last I got the chanter and one of the drones to produce sound. The chanter sounded buzzier than normal, but sometimes the best way to get a hurdy gurdy going is to play the sucker into submission*, so George and I went down to Merchant's Row and played for awhile. It's a really good way for me to run into friends old and new who know what to listen for. Unless, of course, they're taking heads on the battlefield.
*The good news is that the warp in the soundboard is mostly gone and the instrument had reached 100% functionality by Saturday.
Fortunately, Merchant's Row borders the battlefield. This Westerner found her way behind "enemy" lines and managed to climb the embankment at the edge of the raised viewing area in turnshoes and cotehardie while cradling a hurdy gurdy and stuffed monkey. In a sea of Outlands green, I watched for orange and brown. Thank the kami for that orange lacing, my vigilance was rewarded. Even better, the wearer came off the battlefield for a break not far from where I was watching and I got to have a visit with Our Moderator before he went back into battle. While he was too far away at that point for me to try to get it on film, I did manage to see him engaging in a few spear duels from the viewing area. At one point, I did see him jump straight up and down three times. I am not sure whether this was a pre-charge warmup of some sort or perhaps part of the Way Of The Teapot. I hope Otagiri-dono will explain and enlighten us.
I was able to spot some of the West's action at the opposite side of the battlefield. While I could not make out specifics, there's something to be said about seeing banners surging forward like that.
I had just returned to camp from Merchant's Row after some power shopping with my campmates when Moira O'Connor came up the road leading a tall, dark and handsome specimen all in black, which is how I met Yoshi-dono.
After dinner, I changed into appropriate attire for Asian Night in Yagyu-dono's encampment. The new event site is a long, skinny piece of land. The West was on one side of two battlefields, Atenvelt on the other. I had to negotiate no less than three wooden foot bridges* over the drunk traps (irrigation/drainage ditches) and a distance of roughly half a mile (+/-) in the Waraji Zori of Pain while carrying dessert. And then I had to find the camp. In the dark.
*There were two ditches on the east side of the battlefields and one on the west side. One of the bridges on our side had a board missing. I made a note of remembering which one.
The good news is that I finally did. Yagyu-dono's blingy blue and gold hakama alone were worth walking a half mile to see. He and his friends were most hospitable and we brought in the Year of the Boar in high, mostly Chinese style. We burned offerings and incense, we got it on and banged a gong. Thanks to Li's deadly aim with a confetti bazooka, I was finding colored foil in the oddest corners of my tent for days afterward.
The mochi and dorayaki I brought was mostly consumed. I only took one dorayaki and three mochi home, so I guess they went over OK. I got Frederick and Elsa to try the leftovers yesterday. They pronounced the mochi "interesting."
We sampled a variety of sakes, several under Momokawa's Moonstone label. The raspberry infused one was subtler than I expected and quite pleasant. I pronounced the plum infused one as "girly." (This is not a bad thing. In fact, I think I may be able to convince my fruity-girly drinkin' campmates to try that one in the future.) The Pearl (a nigori sake) was given the thumbs down by most of the tasting panel, the Wandering Poet I offered and the other Momokawa sake that Yagyu served were my favorites of those served.
And then Li decided to open the brown crock of Chinese rice wine. He pulled the cork and reeled backward as if he'd been punched. It poured out of the jug brown. We bravely filled our mercifully small cups and drank it. I'm not sure if it's supposed to taste that way or if it had gone off, but the consensus was Hair Of The Dog Soaked In Soy Sauce. At least the bottle was pretty.
I spent most of Friday hurdy gurdying with George. My monkey is better known than I am, thanks to the information superhighway and lots of people stopped me to say how much they enjoyed his page. www.wodefordhall.com/georgetourney.com
I stopped by the Crystal Flute bardic for a little while on Friday to listen. Went down to Dragonsspine's encampment - more "enemy" territory in the dark. I found it. I spotted the ghostly silhouette of Our Moderator's armor on its stand, as well as his weapons racks and banners, but he was not at home.
Donning the Waraji Zori of Slight Discomfort (I admit, they just take a bit of getting used to), the Purple Patchwork Hikizuri Of Doom and The Tareginu Of Lift And Drag, I made my way out of camp before breakfast and over to A&S. I only had three attendees for my class, Yoshi-dono being one of them. It got freeform pretty quickly, but I think they enjoyed it, at least.
To say that Saturday was windy is an understatement. Wearing a hat with a diameter of 24" in such conditions was challenging, to say the least. I couldn't even try to take photos of any of Saturday's fighting, not one handed. On the other hand, I did receive a number of compliments on my outfit from passers by.
Sir Alail and his lady now live up in An Tir. I returned to camp, deciding I'd had enough of fighting my clothing, to find him pimping for Pendleton. Baroness Eilis was rifling through bags. She pulled out a yummy teal wool and claimed it instantly. Great, I thought. Eilis will get all the good stuff and all that will be left will be that regimental Hodden Grey he buys for the ECW group. Then she lifted out a summer weight wool in chocolate brown and held it up against herself. Unanimous comments from my assembled friends decreed that the brown would be better on me. I scored five yards of it for $15.
Saturday evening, back in European tunics, I marched BACK over to the Outlands. Dragonsspine was dark and deserted. I spent a couple of hours two camps down at a bardic with some other Outlanders that Jehanne knows. Saito-dono told a Japanese ghost story that I informed him I fully intend to borrow - and probably tell a bit differently than he does. I left some time around 10 or so and ran into Yagyu-dono and Li-Of-The-Smelly-Dog-Wine on my way back down Merchant's Row. I did a little busking with the hurdy gurdy for the Midnight Madness crowd, went back to the West, shuddered at the noise and crowds at the West Kingdom party and ended up sitting and chatting with Frederick and Roland back in camp.
Sunday morning as my campmates and I are debating whether the continuing sirroccos are worth sticking around for, one of the ladies in my encampment informs me, "Oh, Jehanne, there was this guy here looking for you last night." When asked for a description, her partner in crime (names have been withheld to protect the shamelessly guilty) says, "Yeah, he was cute." Like that narrows it down.
Upon eliciting further details, I determine that Our Moderator and I have initiated the Estrella ritual of Missing Each Other Yet Again. Since he completed last year's ritual by finding me before leaving site, it is therefore my turn to find him. So I hightail it down to Outlands' again. I run into Yoshi-dono and we're standing in the road chatting when a flash of orange pokes itself into my peripheral vision. At last! It is Our Moderator, dumping grey water. So we got another all too short visit in before we tore down our respective camps and left site.
Photos are up and in no decent order at:
new.photos.yahoo.com/wodeford/album/576460762390365515
They appear to have changed their site since the last time I loaded pictures and I haven't figured out how to arrange pictures in an album yet.
Hmmm, I should go check my laundry.....
I'd gotten onto site on Wednesday afternoon and spent most of that on camp set-up for myself and my friends. We seem to have a fair number of walking wounded this year. Vigdis is on the mend from ankle surgery, Elsa was sporting a sprained wrist and Frederick of Holland was having periodic bursitis pain in his shoulder. The good news is that he's FINALLY recovered enough from wrist surgery for an injury two Pennsics ago and got to go out and fight for the West in some battles.
Speaking of walking wounded, I was appalled to open my hurdy gurdy case on Thursday morning and discover that the instrument was wet. REALLY wet. All I can think is that one of the water jugs I'd packed in the back of the truck had leaked into the case somehow. The sound board was visibly warped. I set it on a stool outside in the sun and hoped that the desert air would effect a cure.
For one brief, shining hour on Thursday morning, it was Christmas. As Jehanne, I taught a half a dozen persevering souls several medieval/Renaissance Christmas carols. I say persevering because while the site handout had class descriptions listed therein, there were not dates or times anywhere. If you wanted to take a class, you had to FIND the A&S tent. As the map in the site book did not indicate where the A&S tent and other important locations actually were, the challenge became exponentially more complicated, unless one had previously printed out the version of the map that appeared on the war's website. While I realize a new site is going to experience some growing pains, I am scratching my head over what was printed as a site book this year. They've been doing that part for how many years now?
I took the hurdy gurdy out. I tinkered madly for an unmeasured period, applying cotton and rosin, removing paper bridge shims and at last I got the chanter and one of the drones to produce sound. The chanter sounded buzzier than normal, but sometimes the best way to get a hurdy gurdy going is to play the sucker into submission*, so George and I went down to Merchant's Row and played for awhile. It's a really good way for me to run into friends old and new who know what to listen for. Unless, of course, they're taking heads on the battlefield.
*The good news is that the warp in the soundboard is mostly gone and the instrument had reached 100% functionality by Saturday.
Fortunately, Merchant's Row borders the battlefield. This Westerner found her way behind "enemy" lines and managed to climb the embankment at the edge of the raised viewing area in turnshoes and cotehardie while cradling a hurdy gurdy and stuffed monkey. In a sea of Outlands green, I watched for orange and brown. Thank the kami for that orange lacing, my vigilance was rewarded. Even better, the wearer came off the battlefield for a break not far from where I was watching and I got to have a visit with Our Moderator before he went back into battle. While he was too far away at that point for me to try to get it on film, I did manage to see him engaging in a few spear duels from the viewing area. At one point, I did see him jump straight up and down three times. I am not sure whether this was a pre-charge warmup of some sort or perhaps part of the Way Of The Teapot. I hope Otagiri-dono will explain and enlighten us.
I was able to spot some of the West's action at the opposite side of the battlefield. While I could not make out specifics, there's something to be said about seeing banners surging forward like that.
I had just returned to camp from Merchant's Row after some power shopping with my campmates when Moira O'Connor came up the road leading a tall, dark and handsome specimen all in black, which is how I met Yoshi-dono.
After dinner, I changed into appropriate attire for Asian Night in Yagyu-dono's encampment. The new event site is a long, skinny piece of land. The West was on one side of two battlefields, Atenvelt on the other. I had to negotiate no less than three wooden foot bridges* over the drunk traps (irrigation/drainage ditches) and a distance of roughly half a mile (+/-) in the Waraji Zori of Pain while carrying dessert. And then I had to find the camp. In the dark.
*There were two ditches on the east side of the battlefields and one on the west side. One of the bridges on our side had a board missing. I made a note of remembering which one.
The good news is that I finally did. Yagyu-dono's blingy blue and gold hakama alone were worth walking a half mile to see. He and his friends were most hospitable and we brought in the Year of the Boar in high, mostly Chinese style. We burned offerings and incense, we got it on and banged a gong. Thanks to Li's deadly aim with a confetti bazooka, I was finding colored foil in the oddest corners of my tent for days afterward.
The mochi and dorayaki I brought was mostly consumed. I only took one dorayaki and three mochi home, so I guess they went over OK. I got Frederick and Elsa to try the leftovers yesterday. They pronounced the mochi "interesting."
We sampled a variety of sakes, several under Momokawa's Moonstone label. The raspberry infused one was subtler than I expected and quite pleasant. I pronounced the plum infused one as "girly." (This is not a bad thing. In fact, I think I may be able to convince my fruity-girly drinkin' campmates to try that one in the future.) The Pearl (a nigori sake) was given the thumbs down by most of the tasting panel, the Wandering Poet I offered and the other Momokawa sake that Yagyu served were my favorites of those served.
And then Li decided to open the brown crock of Chinese rice wine. He pulled the cork and reeled backward as if he'd been punched. It poured out of the jug brown. We bravely filled our mercifully small cups and drank it. I'm not sure if it's supposed to taste that way or if it had gone off, but the consensus was Hair Of The Dog Soaked In Soy Sauce. At least the bottle was pretty.
I spent most of Friday hurdy gurdying with George. My monkey is better known than I am, thanks to the information superhighway and lots of people stopped me to say how much they enjoyed his page. www.wodefordhall.com/georgetourney.com
I stopped by the Crystal Flute bardic for a little while on Friday to listen. Went down to Dragonsspine's encampment - more "enemy" territory in the dark. I found it. I spotted the ghostly silhouette of Our Moderator's armor on its stand, as well as his weapons racks and banners, but he was not at home.
Donning the Waraji Zori of Slight Discomfort (I admit, they just take a bit of getting used to), the Purple Patchwork Hikizuri Of Doom and The Tareginu Of Lift And Drag, I made my way out of camp before breakfast and over to A&S. I only had three attendees for my class, Yoshi-dono being one of them. It got freeform pretty quickly, but I think they enjoyed it, at least.
To say that Saturday was windy is an understatement. Wearing a hat with a diameter of 24" in such conditions was challenging, to say the least. I couldn't even try to take photos of any of Saturday's fighting, not one handed. On the other hand, I did receive a number of compliments on my outfit from passers by.
Sir Alail and his lady now live up in An Tir. I returned to camp, deciding I'd had enough of fighting my clothing, to find him pimping for Pendleton. Baroness Eilis was rifling through bags. She pulled out a yummy teal wool and claimed it instantly. Great, I thought. Eilis will get all the good stuff and all that will be left will be that regimental Hodden Grey he buys for the ECW group. Then she lifted out a summer weight wool in chocolate brown and held it up against herself. Unanimous comments from my assembled friends decreed that the brown would be better on me. I scored five yards of it for $15.
Saturday evening, back in European tunics, I marched BACK over to the Outlands. Dragonsspine was dark and deserted. I spent a couple of hours two camps down at a bardic with some other Outlanders that Jehanne knows. Saito-dono told a Japanese ghost story that I informed him I fully intend to borrow - and probably tell a bit differently than he does. I left some time around 10 or so and ran into Yagyu-dono and Li-Of-The-Smelly-Dog-Wine on my way back down Merchant's Row. I did a little busking with the hurdy gurdy for the Midnight Madness crowd, went back to the West, shuddered at the noise and crowds at the West Kingdom party and ended up sitting and chatting with Frederick and Roland back in camp.
Sunday morning as my campmates and I are debating whether the continuing sirroccos are worth sticking around for, one of the ladies in my encampment informs me, "Oh, Jehanne, there was this guy here looking for you last night." When asked for a description, her partner in crime (names have been withheld to protect the shamelessly guilty) says, "Yeah, he was cute." Like that narrows it down.
Upon eliciting further details, I determine that Our Moderator and I have initiated the Estrella ritual of Missing Each Other Yet Again. Since he completed last year's ritual by finding me before leaving site, it is therefore my turn to find him. So I hightail it down to Outlands' again. I run into Yoshi-dono and we're standing in the road chatting when a flash of orange pokes itself into my peripheral vision. At last! It is Our Moderator, dumping grey water. So we got another all too short visit in before we tore down our respective camps and left site. Photos are up and in no decent order at:
new.photos.yahoo.com/wodeford/album/576460762390365515
They appear to have changed their site since the last time I loaded pictures and I haven't figured out how to arrange pictures in an album yet.
Hmmm, I should go check my laundry.....
