Afternoons and Coffeespoons...

There is a Crash Test Dummies song, the title of which is the title of this post. Within it are two lines with sum up this past Pennsic for me:

I've watched the summer evenings pass by,
I heard the rattle in my bronchi

So, yeah. I had a great first week, lounging and partying and reading the last two books of Harry Potter, and then was forced to watch the rest of Pennsic happen around me. It was not my best Pennsic evar.

In any event, creatively, a few things were accomplished. The most public of which was the co-writing with my friends (in order from left to right as we, wine-besotted, mischief-minded, and giggly, sat) Etaine, Lanea, and Ruadhan (did I spell that correctly?) a lovely little ditty to the tune of The Major General's Song. It involved several unsavory subjects (and one Main Unsavory Idea), with the result that Lanea determined that my career in politics would be over if the lyrics were leaked to the internet and if I then were linked to them. "Alas," I responded, "I gave up the run for office many years ago."

Sang publicly only twice before the previously-mentioned illness set in and ousted my voice; once was around a small Dalhraidian fire and involved a lot of Great Big Sea songs, which are easy and please my blue-dredlocked campmate. The other time was at Preachain's block party, at which I sang Lads O' The Fair sans the fourth verse, which would have felt a tad inappropriately "meta" in surroundings which were intended to emulate those from about two thousand years ago. I also sang the newly-penned Unsavory Song with my three cohorts, to the delight of both us and our audience.

(I was provided one more chance to perform the Unsavory Song before war was over, but unfortunately my voice had already packed its bags for destinations south. So instead, I conducted the other three singers with a sparkly purple riding crop. You know, like you do.)

I sewed a quick-and-dirty, loose-weave cotton, back-less, halter tank one evening, which I proceeded to wear as often as possible, proving once again my perversity in garb planning, wherein anything that I spend time and/or money on preparing ahead of time will inevitably be supplanted at the event by a cheap and shoddy alternative which functions better. But I think that's all I made this war; I spent a whole lot of time fuzzy-brained with ibuprofen and cold meds, and really didn't feel like making anything. (I did read a whole lot, though. If that counts for anything.)

Didn't buy any supplies while there, either, which is actually the biggest shame of the lot. However, I was lent some silverpointe supplies by a friend of mine, so I plan on trying those soon.

As soon as Va digs out her camera we'll have some pics of the new pots, I promise.

Until then I remain,
Yours, etc.,
B. Mydwynter

P.S.: Oh, yes. I painted a shield. It turned out nicely, and I'll post pics when the camera is disinterred from the piles of not-yet-unpacked stuff.