Pennsic 2010 Diary: Thurdsay, August 12

morning — Marauders

A lovely evening and a pretty rotten morning so far. The Cerian concert was very funny, and then the Marian of Heatherdale concert was great as always. The “friends” part of the “Heather and Friends” concert were Aaron Swiftrunner and Valencia, Vincenzo, and Aria (a bard from out west with a lovely voice). Vince did his “speeding up song” (whose name I’ve forgotten)… blindfolded. Very, very impressive.

Among Marian’s pieces were “The Green Knight,” the first time I’d heard it in concert. I hadn’t realised that she envisioned the chorus as being sung / said by the various different characters in succession. It brings a new level of meaning to the piece, at least for me.

After the concert, Sisuile and I dragged a bunch of people back to Marauders for pick-up bardic. Among the attendees: Cerian, Dahrien, Maraha, Aoife, Grim, Rosalind, Christian, and a slew of others I’m forgetting. The circle started silly, shifted to serious, then back to silly… it was fun. As the hosting bard, I somehow found myself major domo of the evening. That was probably a first for me. I think I got to everyone, and it flowed pretty well. Someone requested I do “Megan is Baking,” to which I remembered the first three verses, then completely blanked and improvved an “I don’t remember the words so I’m ending here” verse.

About an hour into the circle, it started to rain, and we got word that it was going to be a heavy storm. The sky was doing an absolutely amazing light show, and over half the attendees decided discretion was the better part of valour and returned to their own encampments. We kept going a bit longer as Yaakov finished a story, then the circle shrunk to four. I left to call my boyfriend and then retired to bed, because it was already past 1:00. I double-checked that the most important items were stowed away from the rain and fell asleep.

I was told this morning that we had 2.6 inches of rain. It thunderstormed hard for at least two hours. Now, it could have been worse in my tent: my laundry and fabric are dry, my clothes are dry, the inside of my bed is dry. I’d had the foresight to hang up my satchel, so my journal and wallet are dry. On the other hand, I had a few oversights and one stroke of bad luck. I’d completely forgotten that I hadn’t put my new book away, and that’s pretty soggy. But my biggest problem is that there’s apparently a low point in my tent right next to the head of my bed. I put my foot down onto my sheepskin and felt it squish. It’s so saturated with water that just dragging it out of my tent, it left huge puddles. It’s hanging up now… outside my tent.

Another problem: the cloak that I use as my top blanket touched the floor near that low point. The water has seeped up a good foot. It’s sopping. Also bad: right in that low point, under my bed where they couldn’t be dripped on, were my bardic books. The lowest one was the cloth-lined one, and it’s soaked through. Just about all of it is on my computer, thankfully, but it’s still super-annoying. Jay was kind enough to lend me a second drying rack. Thanks, Jay!

I’m seriously considering throwing out my tent at the end of War and buying a new one. John’s talking about making me a new tent, which would be awesome.

early afternoon — Marauders

According to my thermometer, it’s 49 degrees (120 F) in my tent. Insane! Can you tell it’s gotten hot again?

I had a remarkably lazy morning. I spent at least an hour in the camp hammock, half-dozing. Then I snagged Derhilde, Ki Lin, and Alethea to go to Your Inner Vagabond and have cold beverages. Because it had gotten hot. Again.

From there, I picked up Valencia’s CD (because I hadn’t realised she had one out), and then ran into Fiana, who now has the final piece for her St. Michael story. Yay! I look forward to hearing it next year. Apparently she and her gang are descending en masse to Enchanted tonight, and hopefully I’ll meet up with them.

Then I led Derhilde and Ki Lin to the Bardicci open house. I couldn’t stay long, because I have to teach very shortly, but at least I had the pleasure of showing them the Casa and Gaston’s apartment (at least the lower floor).

Then quick back up the hill, with about 40 minutes until my class. I really should have lunch at some point, but it’s too darn hot. I’m hot and stick and utterly unhungry. It’s supposed to rain again this afternoon. Oh, joy. We’ll see how I’m feeling after my class. In an enclosed, hot tent. Somehow, I don’t expect to feel any more hungry.

I had to make a deal with the sump: it doesn’t overflow into my tent, I don’t bother it. Hopefully it holds up its end of the bargain.

Ernst wants me to write a piece called “the harp seal blues,” in honour of the losers of the champions’ battle. Not feeling particularly inspired right now, but it may yet come to me.

mid-afternoon — Marauders

My class went quite well: a decent number of students for late War Week, good questions, and we finished on time. The class I wanted to take now is cancelled. Boo. It’s 4 p.m., it’s hot and sticky, and I don’t want to move. (Though I may go pick up the “ooh, shiny” I saw yesterday. And maybe some cold fruit.)

My wooden bead necklace from Iohn broke and I’ll need to fix it, but that’ll probably wait until after War. My wool blankets are drying out nicely, and I’ll probably put them in a garbage bag. God knows I won’t be using them this year. The sheepskin is drying more slowly, but it should be mostly dry by tonight, so long as it doesn’t rain.

I know it’s getting towards the end of War because I’m thinking of mundania again. I want to know what’s happening with my roleplaying games and at my apartment. Always a sure sign that War is winding down.

late afternoon — Marauders

Thankfully, my wet stuff is drying out nicely. See, there is a (small) upside to unbearable weather.

I picked up my “ooh, shiny,” and it is very spiffy. Yay!

I spent an hour or so at High Rafters, talking about the Boreal Master and other wrongness. Morgana feels she owes me a piece of amber as “wergeld”: last night I mentioned a name that — though I had no reason to know this — was a raw nerve for her. She reacted with strong emotion and feels very apologetic. Though I told her it was fine and her apology was accepted, she wants to get me a piece of amber anyway, so I graciously accepted. I told her it can be reciprocation for the time I had a really bad dream about her and felt incredibly guilty after.

She, incidentally, picked up a huge honkin’ piece of amber that’s utterly gorgeous. She told me the price, and suffice to say that while she could probably sell it for twice as much as she bought it for, it’s still outside my budget by an order of magnitude. But utterly gorgeous.

I’ve been told that there might not be an Enchanted circle tonight, but Morgana has offered High Rafters as a backup. I should probably figure that out at some point.

So hot. So sticky. I’m tempted to ask Derhilde for her surcoat again, but I don’t see her around.

Dinner’s in 20 minutes. Totally not hungry. I had lunch around 4: two hard-boiled eggs, a banana, and a raisin-filled cookie. I wasn’t hungry then, either, but it seemed like the thing to do. I wonder if I can put aside a plate for myself until sunset.

dinnertime — Marauders

I took a plate and left it in my tent. I’ll eat when it’s cooler. Meanwhile, I ran a few errands to nearby camps and enjoyed the fact that the sun is behind a cloud. I tried making a few calls, to mostly futile results, and am now trying to figure out what to do with the next few hours of my time until sundown. Oh, well. I’m sure I’ll think of something.

evening — Marauders

It’s odd. I’ve been monitoring the temperature and humidity at home all summer, so I know that 28 degrees (82 F) and 55% humidity is usually at the very, very top of my comfort level, verging on distinct discomfort. But now, it feels almost cool. I guess that’s relativism for you.

sunset — Marauders

I just had my unfortunately-traditional end of War Week meltdown. Between the heat, the sleep deprivation, the water in my tent, and (the final straw) discovering that my cotehardie doesn’t fit… I just broke down crying. John, in his wonderfulness, did a quick fix to take out some of the top. It still feels like I can’t breath and I have no idea how I’m going to do bardic, but at least I can move my arms. I may yet change before going to Enchanted.

I’m going to Bardicci as part of John’s retinue, because I gave Katrusha my coin necklace so that she can go down at her leisure. I feel pretty… and unable to breathe. I suddenly remember why I only wear this once a year.

late night — Marauders

Despite my mini-breakdown before, I had a very enjoyable evening. I went down to Bardicci as part of John’s entourage, but broke off from the rest of the group pretty much as soon as we passed the door. Soon after, I met Katrusha, looking lovely in her Russian garb as always, and we wandered together. I showed her Gaston’s apartment, and then we had our cards read by a Tarot reader.

I got to witness Erwillian presenting Grr the Jester with a metal, jewelled jester cap. It was great; he was so happy.

Then it was up to Enchanted Ground. The Dorigen gang were there, as expected. Though I was only there for a few pieces, one of them was Fiana’s “Angel of Death,” which meant that I was there for significantly longer than the number of pieces might indicate. Aoife got a silver bracelet for her story about Cuchulain and the Morrigan, and well deserved, too. (Congrats, Aoife!)

My private moment of pride at that circle came when the smoke was being particularly obnoxious, and Cariadoc asked, “Surely one of you can write a story scolding the smoke.” Well, while the next performer (Morgan Wolfsinger) was singing, I zenned a story on just such a topic. By the time she finished, I had a story ready about how the devil appeared as a pillar of smoke when Moses led the Hebrews out of Egypt. It may not have been the most polished piece I’ve never done, but it had a beginning, middle, and end; it fit the theme; and it was plausibly period. I don’t know whether Cariadoc liked it, but Aoife said it was good. And both Fiana and Aoife seemed genuinely surprised when I said I’d written it in the preceding five minutes. I credit my success to Baron Munchausen.

I listened to a few more pieces, including Toki doing the “Lay of Thorpatrick,” and then headed up the hill to Calontir. I did a drive-by bardic, swooping in at the end of one song, performing the monkey poem, staying for one more song, and then leaving. I only had 10-12 audience members (including Drix, Rhodri, Dolan, Owen, and Eliane), but it seemed to go over well. Yay!

I’m darn hungry now. I wonder if I can find some food. If not, I can only imagine how hungry I’ll be at breakfast. Now to listen to John telling stories.

Back to Wednesday, August 11
Forward to Friday, August 13

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