Friday, January 30, 2009

Tastes of Spring

I love chamomile tea. It tastes like flowers. It doesn't look tasty, being a bright yellow in color, and looking imaginably like something else entirely. But it really is wonderful. Soothing, really. Just like it says on the box.

Thursday, January 29, 2009

To sleep, perchance to dream

I actually dreamt a dream last night that I remembered upon waking. Usually I just have very vague notions of even having dreamt at all, and am left with either horrible or uplifting impressions from them that stick with me all day. This time I remember it. No impressions influencing how my day goes, only the occasional urge to raise my eyebrows quizzically and say "what in the world?"
We were vampire hunting. Somehow this had become part of my job as an archaeologist. This vampire was known to be particularly attached to a certain place nearby, and all we had to do was drive over, stick a shovel in the ground and take out a shovelful of dirt. And he would be vanquished. (I don't pretend to have an explanation for this.) The funny thing is, it worked. We drove over there, 3 of us, one of my coworkers, a friend from high school who also suddenly, in my dream world, worked at the lab with me, and myself. Nonchalantly, no less. No one really cared that we were going to go vanquish an evil being, we were just astonished that all we had to do was stick a shovel in the dirt and go home. Which we did. Whereupon said vampire vanished in a cloud of dust and ash.

And a slightly less bizarre piece of news...I've discovered a new band to add to my list of favorites. Everyone I know up here keeps talking "Tyr this, Tyr that." Well, I have finally listened to them, last night with Del. Oh my goodness. Fantastic. I can see this becoming another obssession, as with Gaelic Storm. Like I needed another. But I've heard them, now it's unavoidable. you ever wonder if bands use subliminal messaging in their songs so that after listening you have an unexplainable urge to buy merchandise? Or are they really that good?

Wednesday, January 21, 2009

Quote to live by

I just ran across this, and thought it was worth sharing. If only we all tried this:

"When you were born, you cried and the world rejoiced. Live your life so that when you die, the world cries and you rejoice."
--White Elk

Monday, January 19, 2009

SCA obsession

Stole this one from the Mistress/Countess of Doom:

1. Post this list to your LJ.
2. Add three SCA-related things to the bottom that you've done.
3. Bold everything in the list that you've done.
4. Tag people, if you're so inclined, and watch the list grow.
Taught a class at Pennsic
Ran a court
Fought or fenced at an event while drunk
Worked the "Puking Duke" shift a Chirurgeons Point at Pennsic
Been an Event Stewart/Autocrat
Been an officer (Local, Regional, Kingdom, Society)
Had a name and/or device accepted by the SCA College of Arms
Had a name and/or device rejected by the SCA College of Arms
Worked in at least three different volunteer departments at Pennsic (also in: Troll, Heralds' Point and Performing Arts)
Written a scroll text - does telling someone what to write count?
Ran a bardic circle
Attend a foreign war
Traveled more than 10 hours each way for a one-day event
Had the privilege of begging a boon for a Peerage
Been involved on some level with a Northshield "gotcha" moment
Spent the night in a hotel room with more people than the bed space holds
Slept in more than 1 tent at a camping event
Fought/fought for in a Crown/Coronet Tourney (almost!)
Been to an SCA event/function in every Kingdom except Drachenwald and Lochac
Lived in three Kingdoms
Been in the SCA more than half my life
Held the same SCA office more than once
Have far more friends in the SCA than mundanely
Have done SCA type things in the mundane world (like an "O-yea" to quiet a busload of students)
Considered how much of stuff can be packed in a car before buying it
Worn garb on Halloween
Buy fabric and fiber stuffs just because
Have played Seneschal-Tossing
Spend more money on garb than on your mundane wardrobe
Your thinking has become warped so that you don't think 500 years ago was really such a long time after all.

Apron of Infamy

The Apron of Infamy is finished. It's not really infamous yet. But I'm pretty sure it will be. Give it time. It's a project of mine and Kaia's. Neither of us wants to claim responsibility for the original idea. It's got pink flowers, white lace around the edges, and pink satin ties and bows. It's disgustingly cute, but very cute, after all. I wonder what the guy who it's a gift for is going to think of it. :D

Friday, January 16, 2009

Good Day

It's going to be a good day today. It has to be. I mean, did you hear about the plane crash-landing in the Hudson River? All 155 people got off safely. The plane landed near the ferry, so it rescued everyone right away, and the pilot is being hailed for having made the most amazing crash landing in, well, maybe ever? It's going to be a good day. That just proves it. Besides, I heard Danny's Song on the radio this morning while I was brushing my hair. Another automatic sign that it's going to be a good day.
So my wish, rather my prayer, is that today is a good day for all of you, whether you ever read this or not, on whatever day you may read it, if you do at all. No matter how many stupid little annoying things go wrong.
It's going to be a good day today.

Wednesday, January 14, 2009

Practice your Penmanship!

So I love writing...I mean for real, by hand, not typing and all that. I've always been proud of the fact that my handwriting is really quite neat. With the possible exceptions of notes scribbled down quickly in class, or painstakingly sketched out in a field journal with no writing surface available besides my own kneecap, or hastily signed checks. Those don't really count. The point is, when I really sit down to write, the result is usually at least somewhat aesthetically pleasing, to me if to no one else.

And legible, most importantly.

I've been given the task of typing up a backlog of field notes from several years ago, which should have been typed several years ago, by their authors. I'm not entirely sure that their authors would have been able to make any sense at all of the scratchings on the notebook pages, and I'm definitely sure I can't. To make things just that much more fun, said authors have since moved on to bigger and better things (like England, for one. Not kidding. So not fair), so I don't even have the option of hurling their own monstrosities at them, and saying "WHAT WERE YOU THINKING?" and then making them transcribe the awfulness.

If anyone has worse handwriting than the doctors, it would be the archaeologists.

The moral of this story is...practice your penmanship. Please!