Canterbury Faire III: The return of the midgets!
Can I just point out that as I begin to write this there is a genuine gale bordering on cyclone blowing outside. So if it suddenly starts sounding a bit odd, part of the roof will have blown off and I'll be holding a brolly over the computer.
For all the lovely people who have sent nice notes regarding la or le rumourmongering eedjit, it really is just the horror of the possibility that someone thinks my tastes in men run to anything other than the Sean Bean-esque (which J actually is (and 10 points Blayney for being the only one to notice the comment he picked up on)).
I still plan to slap the rumour monger should I find him or her, because anyone that much of an eeeedjit just deserves a good slap.
But since I have unwittingly provided a good belly laugh to so many people on this, it's worth the eyerolling at my end. And, as Marie pointed out, our eeedjit at least had the good sense to slander two people whose partners wouldn't be the least bit upset by such eeeedjitcy. And yes, no-one says idiot like the Irish, so that's a guest voice making an appearance in this blog entry. And unlike all my other impressions (save an uncanny Uther on helium), I can actually do a passable Irish. My funny Scots voice is, alas, more Polish.
But none of this is telling you more about the wonders of Canterbury Faire! And that is what I have sat down to do. Mind you, before we get any further along, I must point one vital thing out. It will not be that good next year. In fact, it's likely to be rubbish. Utter bollocks. Under no circumstances should you contemplate coming. Seriously, stay home.
Because the hordes are starting to make it seem like Festival, and that's not right!
Much of the event covered off in parts one and two, so if you've not read them, go down a few posts and you'll find them. This one's more of the round-up stuff. It's also extremely fragmentary because it's been written over a fortnight and my memory is a shambles: like my photography it's either clear and sharp, or blurred beyond any use ...
While CF is my personal happy event each year, it wasn't all wine and roses this year as a short time before, the Barony lost a little boy who was very dear and sweet and far too young. His sister Alexandria is a little girl who I've spoken to quite a bit over the last three years, she's also very sweet and such a girly girl, her mum dresses her in smocked frocks and makes her the most astonishing garb (for which mum was awarded a Lillies last year and very well deserved). Alex is one of those kids who will ask questions when she has them, so when she needed some tucking in one night and I was one of the only adults around, we did her toothbrushing and then had a bit of a chat. She understood about death, and was more saddened by the loss side than bound up in any sort of existential crisis, but she was having a very hard time coming to grips with why some people were blaming others over the sequence of events (bacterial infection at the same time all the other kids had been down with the flu, too late by the time difference spotted).
I looked around for someone smarter than me to answer that, but the only other people about were the kids in the next room. So I was blunt but tactful. "It's because adults hate admitting that sometimes there's nothing you can do. Even if Harry had gone to the hospital sooner, it might not have been soon enough. And if it had turned out to just be flu too when he was just a little bit sick, there would have been criticism that going to the hospital was a waste of resources."
"And sometimes people die even when they're in the hospital," she told me. "But wouldn't it be more sensible to see that everyone is upset and for everyone to try and be kind rather than blame each other?"
(I told you that she was a very sweet girl.)
I agreed that this would be much more sensible. "But grown-ups try to control things. And sometimes that's good because we're controlling things like having enough food or being in bed at a sensible time, but there are other things you can't control, and that's everything from big things like trucks and earthquakes, to little things like bacteria. And so you just have to try your best with them."
"So what should we do?" she asked.
I wished really hard to be replaced with someone suitably spiritual or philosophical, but alas, no luck. "We try to do as many positive things as we can. So if it's a choice between going outside on a beautiful day or sitting inside watching dumb TV, go outside. And if you want to try something new like singing but you're embarrassed, don't be, because you might be good at it and even if you're not then you'll have had a new experience. And if people say you should do something you don't want to do, tell them you don't want to. And, unless its something that has to be done like going to school or somewhere mum and dad need to go, don't go. And above all, tell people that you love them when you do."
She looked at me appraisingly. "That's good advice," she said.
"I'm old," I said on the outside. "You learn stuff." (You're young, I thought on the inside, this is just the stuff people haven't told you about yet because they were hoping you wouldn't need it. And I've left you room for any gods you may have, so I won't have your mum looking for my intestines later.)
"Bed time?" I asked.
"I'm not supposed to go to bed without anyone here," she replied in the universal kid code of I reckon I can get another hour out of this one ...
"Dickon's right next door, and I'm next to him. Give a yell and we'll come running."
Dickon, bless him, opened his door to ask what he was being dobbed in for.
This revealed that every single other child in the dormitory was in the Baskin-kerr kids' room 'getting ready for bedtime', read: gossiping and playing games depending on age bracket. Dickon, Pippin and Grace proclaimed as one that it wasn't their fault.
I decided that since I was a mad aunty rather than a parental type, it wasn't up to me to send them all scurrying off, but I would try and waylay their parents as they came into the hall at the other end of the dorm and give them enough warning to get back to the appropriate rooms if they would look out for Alex and make sure she got some good sleep. A deal was struck, and we all kept up our ends. And this is why I remain the amusing aunty figure, I'd make a terrible parent.
As it turns out, I did have a good photo of Court, here is Vitale being granted a Court Barony. This was the only photo I could find with both Royals looking good. One of the bad side-effects of court is that someone is usually saying a word that starts with w or v or p and none of these produce good faces. Either that or the person kneeling in front is caught mid-kneel and it looks like a bizarre fetish shot that you would find on a site called Wool-Covered Butts. Again, not quite the look we were going for.
As you can see, the kids took Court with all the seriousness and attention that they bring to other endeavours in their busy lives. Here Pippin and Roisin compete for Flattest Child in Camp.
Tragically, I kept laughing so hard at the regular bon mots from these two that I didn't write any of them down, which was a shame because they are two very original kids, in every sense of the phrase. Roisin was the kid who last year, on being told that Fair is nicer than Festival because there are snakes at Festival that can kill you, replied in all seriousness: " I don't think mummy's signed a permission for me to be dead."
Her mum is Fen and her sister is Orla, and how they ever get anything done while laughing at brilliant Roisinisms is beyond me. When she's older I plan to buy her some George Orwell and other good books of journalism and encourage her to make it a career, because the child has a genius.
For some reason I ended up with lots of in-focus shots of Tycho. Possibly because he is one of the only people to stand still for more than a second ...
Tycho was publicly asked to join the order of the Laurel at Canty Fair for his work in knifesmithing. At the time he said yes, and you should SEE the work he does, just lovely. Since then, though, he has thought on the topic and decided it would not be fair because he doesn't have enough time to devote to another order and wouldn't want to be a freeloading peer (my term, he was far nicer). I have immense respect for both him and his decision on this, but at the same time, it's a bit of a loss for us. He is a good voice of sense and reason and we Laurels sometimes need a little calming.
I had a very funny conversation with Rowan after Festival where I expressed surprise that the King had given me a Rowan (award, not Mistress, she's Jeremy's). She replied, "I think you're quite courteous, well, except on Laurel council ..." which is, alas, true. It would be nice to have more assertive but calm voices that could cut through or de-heighten emotive arguments in council without the crankiness I come with. It's the trouble with having an order full of artists, there's a lot of highly strung nostril flaring; it's like being back around thoroughbreds, though so far I've managed to resist twisting anyone's ear until they behave, but it's not easy! All my natural instincts say go for the ear and say loudly but calmly: "Whoa down there."
Other things at Fair included the fighter auction. I've mentioned this earlier, but without shots. Here's J, being v butch. He could tell me who that is falling over, but he's asleep. It was a fun tournament to watch, and apparently made much more money than they were planning on. Which means more fireworks at Coronation, Yay! I mentioned the format earlier, too, but as a reminder, each fighter had seven ribbons and you could take away various numbers per bout depending on where you hit them. After you lost all seven, you were out of the tournament. It added a great deal of fun to the day and quite a bit of evil if your name was Baron Inigo, for he is tricksy! (And took six ribbons from one fighter in one bout.)
The fighting stopped for the wedding of Claire and Christopher, Madeleine and Maria were bridesmaids and Marienna and Asbjorn were attendants. Sadly, most of my shots were rubbish due to a combination of dirty lens and no skill whatsoever. But it was a lovely ceremony and a very happy occasion for everyone. It was especially nice in that we were all able to join the celebration as a part of life in a normal township. The celebrant wore traditional ecclesiastical robes and the mundane guests all dressed to fit in. So it was like a genuine moment in the life of the real town of Southron Gaard. I liked this a lot, because the community there always feels very real to me, not just a bunch of friends and acquaintances sharing a giant LRP dress-up fest.
Asbjorn had fun being one of the wedding party, when it was asked if any had just cause why these two should not be wed, he drew his sword a few inches and glared about. But of course, everyone had tonnes of just cause as to why they SHOULD be wed, so there were no issues there.
It was still odd seeing Master Christopher in Elizabethan as I am so used to Master Yoshitoshi in Japanese. But he looked very fine indeed, and it certainly gives Lady Claire much more scope for frockage!
I had a mad time trying to find them a card to go with the pressie we found (which was all Japanese, DOH!) and found really beautiful envelopes, one of which I was going to fill with a nicely calligraphed note on a scrap of paper katherine found for me. I still have the envelopes. Sometimes I am the least organised person on Earth.
Afterwards the auction went back to the last few rounds. Alfar was very amusing and allowed little Ethan a bout. Ethan took the opportunity to gut His Majesty mercilessly. He's cunning, that one.
It was interesting watching the little kids who haven't been immersed in the SCA since birth or toddlerdom. And when I say immersed, I mean at camping events in particular, as Persi is wonderful at normal events but found it all a little much to be away from home every night and surrounded by strange noisy people. I think that parts of Fair were a little bit much for Ethan, too, while Maddie, Nikki and Willie took them more in their stride. But Ethan was surrounded by so many new and exciting things and was having a grand time being admired by everyone. Also, doesn't have as many connections with the other kids as Maddie, Willie and Nikki have. Well, he didn't. Next year he will, because he was such a firm favourite with all the others. So whenever he started to get a bit worked up this year, the other kids understood it was just acclimatising. That peer support in the junior set is what first amazed me about the NZ groups, and I'm happy to see it catching on at Festival and other Terra Rossa events, too.
At May Crown there were a bunch of kids I knew at the feast and some were in sulky teenage mode. But they all found the dark sofa-filled corner of the hall and sat around chatting with each other and included the younger ones, too. The older ones made the younger ones feel more grown up, the younger ones kept the older ones nicer and better-tempered. There are some hippie things that are good and worthwhile, and this sort of natural commune is one of them.
It appears I also had a shot of the Amberherthe toga party, including the puffin pinata. Let me just say that it was far scarier being there. J and I went dressed in our normal clothes and told everyone that we were barbarians and were visiting their city wishing to learn Latin. It appears that all the Latin some people know is really quite rude. And we're back to Sir Vitale ...
You would not believe how many hits it took to take out that puffin, BTW.
The A&S was, as usual, very good. But not so good on the labelling. I couldn't for the life of me work out who had made these items, and the njalbinding was particularly well done, so I wanted to enthuse at someone. I think that a name was thrown at me a little later, but I didn't write it down, and so it is, alas, gone forever. Except that I know Bartholomew will leave a comment enlightening me, because that's another thing I like about Southron Gaard!
The band weaving was pretty good, too, although I wanted to have a word with the weaver about tension and how they planned to do the finishing. Still, I'll probably see this being worn somewhere next year and can see how it all came together then. The callig and illum in the background was also biffo.
For some reason Myne incorporated an evil chicken impersonation into her A&S display ...
One of the good things about Canty Faire being so small is that the A&S displays are able to go on at the level of "Here's what I did, here's why I did it." "Oh, that's interesting, I like these bits, have you read X or thought about incorporating Y? Good job, you, well done!"
Now theoretically that's what Laurel Prize Tourney at Festival is like. And sometimes it works the right way. But more often it's too crowded and filled with non-laurels who've forgotten about Laurel-only hour and then no matter how often you ask people if they want a form, they say no until they decide 10 minutes later they really do ... and it's just too much, even if you do pay very close attention to just being a good listening Laurel, the sheer number of entrants and laurels means you only have a couple of minutes per person if you want to see everyone. So instead we tend to make choices and sometimes overlook things we think we know or think we wouldn't be that interested in. Which means that we miss out on good stuff. In the overall scheme of things it evens out, because we all make different choices and so can compare notes afterwards, but it's still annoying.
One of the people I had most fun talking to at Fair was William de Wyke about shoes and leather. In fact, he did a running repair for me when I blew out one of my turn shoes, and then sent me home with smuggled goop (not as dodgy as it sounds, and that reminds me, MUST get recipe this time ...) so that I could do the same myself. In addition to his research on cordwaining and cobbling, he has been working on various accessories including this very nice scabbard. He is talking about starting up a guild, his laurel Alys suggested that he start two, one for cobblers and one for cordwainers and then have inter-guild rivalry and see them issue a series of complaints against each other. Sometimes I think that local government is missing out greatly and that Alys really needs to reconsider depriving them of her evil genius. Because while she would doubtless set opposing sides of the council at each other's throats, she would also use the cover provided by the fracas to push through fully funded educational and social services that would improve the world. I'm just not convinced she wouldn't be having more fun watching the debates ...
William also made the chape for the scabbard. Damned talented people, we hates them! Except that he's a good teaching talented person, so there's every chance that he can show me how its all done enough for me to work it out some day. I was very impressed, and enjoyed his chat on how it had all come together, including the disaster parts, very much. I heartily encourage people to include the disaster parts in their A&S chats as they are a great relief for all the listeners. Not to mention a good way of conveying what not to do.
In addition to 'things' A&S, Canterbury Faire has a good tradition of performance A&S. The highlights are trotted out at the half-circle theatre, so called because the audience sits in a predictable geometric shape. Here's (from left) Baron Master Sigurd, Baroness Mistress Eleanora, Baron Sir Inigo, Baroness Cecilia, and, up in the back, Amanda on the far left, Lea in the middle and Dickon on the far right. I think I've mentioned before Lea's infatuation with Dickon, which is very cute (if you ever wish to tease Dickon, just say: "But it'll be OK, because when she's 18, you'll be 28 ..." he wails and says: "I don't want to be that guy!" Dickon rocks.) In the shot two before this, Lea is sitting next to Amanda, then she's half way over, by two after, she's beside him, where she stayed throughout the performance. It's his own fault for being such a piggyback provider, he's like the teenaged version of J.
The performances were up and down; there was a professional play troupe that I found rather over-mannered and not really to my taste. To be fair, they were wearing costumes that were jarring with the event, so I wasn;t in the right headspace, and they were also still in rehearsal and trying to do a condensed scene in a strange environment. Also, I'm astonishingly picky and annoying. Vitale and Finr did some highly amusing schtick which was made all the funnier by the contrast of the gregarious knight with the taciturn skald. The music was uniformly good; singing in particular has come a very long way from my first fair three years ago. The organisation has met up with the talent and there is a level of sophistication that reflects the amount of time and passion people have brought to the task. There was also a play that had a girl playing the Empress or Queen who looked very much like my darling Hillary (who has just landed a dream job at the Museum of London), I saw a girl who looked very much like her at Festival and kept wanting to run up and say "Are you from Southron Gaard?" but I try to maintain at least a veneer of cool. A very very thin one ...
As always, the kids were a joy to interact with, even if we seem to have been put into the role of dependable transport (if only we had the wheelbarrow!) Sir Inigo and co built another hay fort and there was a sleepout which included a moderate amount of giggling, but led to pleas for age differentiated sleepouts next year so that the big kids could keep on with their gasbagging till much later without disturbing the little kids. Why is it that I can foresee wails of protest from the kids just below the age cut off?
Amusingly, it's really J that most of the kids love the most. I'm just the one who comes with the package. So apparently grumpy works for the young set. I think that we do, however, meet the criteria for the adults that I considered to be my friends when I was that age: we listen to the kids as though they are people, we try to explain things when they ask us questions, we see their points of view even when we have to say that their parents are still right, and we know that they aren't always interested in the same things adults are. In the same way, the Canty Faire kids are very good at knowing that adults need time too and are also people. I really like the way they see their parents as real people for the most part. Even the little ones have some understanding of it. In a world where communication in families seems increasingly to fall by the wayside, this is a very good thing to have as a norm. All the B-k kids, Rosetta and Alexandria in particular have made me go a wee bit misty eyed in their descriptions of how good their parents are.
They also have very high opinions of the populace, which made me laugh when one little girl was telling me how she wants to grow up to be just like Christia, and another wondered if it might not be easier to pursue C&I and be like Belle. The boys were more even-handed and were cherry-picking qualities from several knights, barons and other notables for their aspirational figures. I hope that happens on this side of the ditch, too, though I suspect you need to be the welcome outsider figure to actually hear it.
I'm sure that I'm missing some terribly important things I wanted to talk about. I did go over with all sorts of plans to talk with adults and be very Laurelly. In fact I ended up babysitting and chasing hedgehogs a lot.
It was an excellent event, stewarded by the one-working-collarboned Master Llewellyn and with great food (as always) and a convivial atmosphere overall. There was some weirdness; the locals tramping and driving through site over the long weekend was a tad confronting, and katherine's revenge belling was very funny but no one should ever tell her she is less than lovely.
It being the first time Iarnulfr was back led to some tentativeness on both sides of the old divide, which people handled with dignity and maturity. Because they're all good at being grown-ups. But I was very happy to see him because I like having a forge at an event and I like his inspiring of "stuff" around a campsite. And although he has been thoroughly Terra Rossaned in the last five-odd years, it was interesting to see how quickly he and Jenny Kiwied ...
To touch on politics briefly, I did wish that the old seneschallate had followed through on the original theory of a truth and reconciliation style report over the college difficulties all those years ago, because the way the report was handled meant the significant systems problems that were a major cause (not least those from the university) were never aired, and there are a some residual feelings of confusion and crossness in older players. That was my mistake, I think. I should have insisted it be a Crown-run matter rather than handing it off. That way any anger would have attached only to us, and we could have listened our way through it.
On the up side, there's an entire generation of younger players who have no idea what the fuck I am talking about in that last paragraph. Suffice to say that when it comes to issues that aren't black and white and don't need mundane resolutions, I now almost wholly recommend that they are dealt with by the in-game side; the K&Q, or the B&B, not the more mundane seneschallate. My reasons for this are simple. Seneschals look for the bases of problems and blame apportionment when they are solving them. This is a necessary part of their job.
Royalty, on the other hand, should be all about wanting the group to thrive and every individual within it succeed. That's what creates a healthy kingdom. Now and then they have to inadverantly crush people's dreams, usually in baronial selection processes, but on the whole it's all about the rewarding and encouraging. So the urge is to say "Oh look, that's what the problem was! Let's never do that again!"
I screwed up in believing that same end could come about through other agents.
On the other hand, Seneschals are indispensible when it comes to significant problems that do have or still have a mundane component (some problems have a small window when there may be a need for mundane involvement, which later closes.) One of the people who I have enjoyed meeting most and grown to respect the most in the last few years was Collum, the Seneschal of River Haven. He had a giant problem fall into his lap which was very mundane-law-necessary. He did everything exactly right, and interacted perfectly with his local landed royalty (Somerled and Caelia, who were great) and then with us so that we just had to give the final sign-off to his process. Subsequently he has gone through another similar issue, if not so severe, and been a wonder to another set of B&B and K&Qs.
Alfar actually asked me to start writing up some of these monarchopolitical insights for others, which I should really do this month ...
This is not the greatest photo, but that bare belly is indeed Baron Callum who was portraying Buddha in the gods and monsters tournament. A more terrifying sight I cannot imagine across the field. His great good humour in the role was matched by his great stoicism when the belly bruises began to appear later in the day. I am told, too, that there were more tales in the Mong, which I sincerely miss hearing. There are few storytellers quite so captivating. Fingers crossed he writes it all up for next years Tales.
And this was Baron Sigurd's Ghost of Fighters Past. A simple, yet inspired concept. The scent of unwashed gambeson and linament adding a subtle touch of realism to the ensemble ...
Sigurd also had good news at Fair, which I think he's let out, but in case it's not universally known, just some quiet yaying at this end. I'm a bit sad J mangled his elbow, since I think it would have been very fun to be stepping up at Midwinter. I imagine that sadness will have waned by about September ...
Finally, a lovely shot of Roisin and one of my favourite Ynys Fawrians whose name I can never get straight. Lovely chap, good artisan in a variety of fields, straight talking gentle humourist who owns a great hat. And, like us, perennial piggybacker. Truly is it said that the next generation stands on the shoulders of this one. Or, more accurately, sits comfortably somewhere in the back region after repeated cries of "Up, up!" and "Carry me!"
[Edited to correct the spelling of Alexandria's name, who is also Amethyst. Yeah, yeah, you lot have met my memory ...]
For all the lovely people who have sent nice notes regarding la or le rumourmongering eedjit, it really is just the horror of the possibility that someone thinks my tastes in men run to anything other than the Sean Bean-esque (which J actually is (and 10 points Blayney for being the only one to notice the comment he picked up on)).
I still plan to slap the rumour monger should I find him or her, because anyone that much of an eeeedjit just deserves a good slap.
But since I have unwittingly provided a good belly laugh to so many people on this, it's worth the eyerolling at my end. And, as Marie pointed out, our eeedjit at least had the good sense to slander two people whose partners wouldn't be the least bit upset by such eeeedjitcy. And yes, no-one says idiot like the Irish, so that's a guest voice making an appearance in this blog entry. And unlike all my other impressions (save an uncanny Uther on helium), I can actually do a passable Irish. My funny Scots voice is, alas, more Polish.
But none of this is telling you more about the wonders of Canterbury Faire! And that is what I have sat down to do. Mind you, before we get any further along, I must point one vital thing out. It will not be that good next year. In fact, it's likely to be rubbish. Utter bollocks. Under no circumstances should you contemplate coming. Seriously, stay home.
Because the hordes are starting to make it seem like Festival, and that's not right!
Much of the event covered off in parts one and two, so if you've not read them, go down a few posts and you'll find them. This one's more of the round-up stuff. It's also extremely fragmentary because it's been written over a fortnight and my memory is a shambles: like my photography it's either clear and sharp, or blurred beyond any use ...
While CF is my personal happy event each year, it wasn't all wine and roses this year as a short time before, the Barony lost a little boy who was very dear and sweet and far too young. His sister Alexandria is a little girl who I've spoken to quite a bit over the last three years, she's also very sweet and such a girly girl, her mum dresses her in smocked frocks and makes her the most astonishing garb (for which mum was awarded a Lillies last year and very well deserved). Alex is one of those kids who will ask questions when she has them, so when she needed some tucking in one night and I was one of the only adults around, we did her toothbrushing and then had a bit of a chat. She understood about death, and was more saddened by the loss side than bound up in any sort of existential crisis, but she was having a very hard time coming to grips with why some people were blaming others over the sequence of events (bacterial infection at the same time all the other kids had been down with the flu, too late by the time difference spotted).I looked around for someone smarter than me to answer that, but the only other people about were the kids in the next room. So I was blunt but tactful. "It's because adults hate admitting that sometimes there's nothing you can do. Even if Harry had gone to the hospital sooner, it might not have been soon enough. And if it had turned out to just be flu too when he was just a little bit sick, there would have been criticism that going to the hospital was a waste of resources."
"And sometimes people die even when they're in the hospital," she told me. "But wouldn't it be more sensible to see that everyone is upset and for everyone to try and be kind rather than blame each other?"
(I told you that she was a very sweet girl.)
I agreed that this would be much more sensible. "But grown-ups try to control things. And sometimes that's good because we're controlling things like having enough food or being in bed at a sensible time, but there are other things you can't control, and that's everything from big things like trucks and earthquakes, to little things like bacteria. And so you just have to try your best with them."
"So what should we do?" she asked.
I wished really hard to be replaced with someone suitably spiritual or philosophical, but alas, no luck. "We try to do as many positive things as we can. So if it's a choice between going outside on a beautiful day or sitting inside watching dumb TV, go outside. And if you want to try something new like singing but you're embarrassed, don't be, because you might be good at it and even if you're not then you'll have had a new experience. And if people say you should do something you don't want to do, tell them you don't want to. And, unless its something that has to be done like going to school or somewhere mum and dad need to go, don't go. And above all, tell people that you love them when you do."
She looked at me appraisingly. "That's good advice," she said.
"I'm old," I said on the outside. "You learn stuff." (You're young, I thought on the inside, this is just the stuff people haven't told you about yet because they were hoping you wouldn't need it. And I've left you room for any gods you may have, so I won't have your mum looking for my intestines later.)
"Bed time?" I asked.
"I'm not supposed to go to bed without anyone here," she replied in the universal kid code of I reckon I can get another hour out of this one ...
"Dickon's right next door, and I'm next to him. Give a yell and we'll come running."
Dickon, bless him, opened his door to ask what he was being dobbed in for.
This revealed that every single other child in the dormitory was in the Baskin-kerr kids' room 'getting ready for bedtime', read: gossiping and playing games depending on age bracket. Dickon, Pippin and Grace proclaimed as one that it wasn't their fault.
I decided that since I was a mad aunty rather than a parental type, it wasn't up to me to send them all scurrying off, but I would try and waylay their parents as they came into the hall at the other end of the dorm and give them enough warning to get back to the appropriate rooms if they would look out for Alex and make sure she got some good sleep. A deal was struck, and we all kept up our ends. And this is why I remain the amusing aunty figure, I'd make a terrible parent.
As it turns out, I did have a good photo of Court, here is Vitale being granted a Court Barony. This was the only photo I could find with both Royals looking good. One of the bad side-effects of court is that someone is usually saying a word that starts with w or v or p and none of these produce good faces. Either that or the person kneeling in front is caught mid-kneel and it looks like a bizarre fetish shot that you would find on a site called Wool-Covered Butts. Again, not quite the look we were going for.
As you can see, the kids took Court with all the seriousness and attention that they bring to other endeavours in their busy lives. Here Pippin and Roisin compete for Flattest Child in Camp.
Tragically, I kept laughing so hard at the regular bon mots from these two that I didn't write any of them down, which was a shame because they are two very original kids, in every sense of the phrase. Roisin was the kid who last year, on being told that Fair is nicer than Festival because there are snakes at Festival that can kill you, replied in all seriousness: " I don't think mummy's signed a permission for me to be dead."
Her mum is Fen and her sister is Orla, and how they ever get anything done while laughing at brilliant Roisinisms is beyond me. When she's older I plan to buy her some George Orwell and other good books of journalism and encourage her to make it a career, because the child has a genius.
For some reason I ended up with lots of in-focus shots of Tycho. Possibly because he is one of the only people to stand still for more than a second ...Tycho was publicly asked to join the order of the Laurel at Canty Fair for his work in knifesmithing. At the time he said yes, and you should SEE the work he does, just lovely. Since then, though, he has thought on the topic and decided it would not be fair because he doesn't have enough time to devote to another order and wouldn't want to be a freeloading peer (my term, he was far nicer). I have immense respect for both him and his decision on this, but at the same time, it's a bit of a loss for us. He is a good voice of sense and reason and we Laurels sometimes need a little calming.
I had a very funny conversation with Rowan after Festival where I expressed surprise that the King had given me a Rowan (award, not Mistress, she's Jeremy's). She replied, "I think you're quite courteous, well, except on Laurel council ..." which is, alas, true. It would be nice to have more assertive but calm voices that could cut through or de-heighten emotive arguments in council without the crankiness I come with. It's the trouble with having an order full of artists, there's a lot of highly strung nostril flaring; it's like being back around thoroughbreds, though so far I've managed to resist twisting anyone's ear until they behave, but it's not easy! All my natural instincts say go for the ear and say loudly but calmly: "Whoa down there."
Other things at Fair included the fighter auction. I've mentioned this earlier, but without shots. Here's J, being v butch. He could tell me who that is falling over, but he's asleep. It was a fun tournament to watch, and apparently made much more money than they were planning on. Which means more fireworks at Coronation, Yay! I mentioned the format earlier, too, but as a reminder, each fighter had seven ribbons and you could take away various numbers per bout depending on where you hit them. After you lost all seven, you were out of the tournament. It added a great deal of fun to the day and quite a bit of evil if your name was Baron Inigo, for he is tricksy! (And took six ribbons from one fighter in one bout.)
The fighting stopped for the wedding of Claire and Christopher, Madeleine and Maria were bridesmaids and Marienna and Asbjorn were attendants. Sadly, most of my shots were rubbish due to a combination of dirty lens and no skill whatsoever. But it was a lovely ceremony and a very happy occasion for everyone. It was especially nice in that we were all able to join the celebration as a part of life in a normal township. The celebrant wore traditional ecclesiastical robes and the mundane guests all dressed to fit in. So it was like a genuine moment in the life of the real town of Southron Gaard. I liked this a lot, because the community there always feels very real to me, not just a bunch of friends and acquaintances sharing a giant LRP dress-up fest.
Asbjorn had fun being one of the wedding party, when it was asked if any had just cause why these two should not be wed, he drew his sword a few inches and glared about. But of course, everyone had tonnes of just cause as to why they SHOULD be wed, so there were no issues there.It was still odd seeing Master Christopher in Elizabethan as I am so used to Master Yoshitoshi in Japanese. But he looked very fine indeed, and it certainly gives Lady Claire much more scope for frockage!
I had a mad time trying to find them a card to go with the pressie we found (which was all Japanese, DOH!) and found really beautiful envelopes, one of which I was going to fill with a nicely calligraphed note on a scrap of paper katherine found for me. I still have the envelopes. Sometimes I am the least organised person on Earth.
Afterwards the auction went back to the last few rounds. Alfar was very amusing and allowed little Ethan a bout. Ethan took the opportunity to gut His Majesty mercilessly. He's cunning, that one.It was interesting watching the little kids who haven't been immersed in the SCA since birth or toddlerdom. And when I say immersed, I mean at camping events in particular, as Persi is wonderful at normal events but found it all a little much to be away from home every night and surrounded by strange noisy people. I think that parts of Fair were a little bit much for Ethan, too, while Maddie, Nikki and Willie took them more in their stride. But Ethan was surrounded by so many new and exciting things and was having a grand time being admired by everyone. Also, doesn't have as many connections with the other kids as Maddie, Willie and Nikki have. Well, he didn't. Next year he will, because he was such a firm favourite with all the others. So whenever he started to get a bit worked up this year, the other kids understood it was just acclimatising. That peer support in the junior set is what first amazed me about the NZ groups, and I'm happy to see it catching on at Festival and other Terra Rossa events, too.
At May Crown there were a bunch of kids I knew at the feast and some were in sulky teenage mode. But they all found the dark sofa-filled corner of the hall and sat around chatting with each other and included the younger ones, too. The older ones made the younger ones feel more grown up, the younger ones kept the older ones nicer and better-tempered. There are some hippie things that are good and worthwhile, and this sort of natural commune is one of them.
It appears I also had a shot of the Amberherthe toga party, including the puffin pinata. Let me just say that it was far scarier being there. J and I went dressed in our normal clothes and told everyone that we were barbarians and were visiting their city wishing to learn Latin. It appears that all the Latin some people know is really quite rude. And we're back to Sir Vitale ...You would not believe how many hits it took to take out that puffin, BTW.
The A&S was, as usual, very good. But not so good on the labelling. I couldn't for the life of me work out who had made these items, and the njalbinding was particularly well done, so I wanted to enthuse at someone. I think that a name was thrown at me a little later, but I didn't write it down, and so it is, alas, gone forever. Except that I know Bartholomew will leave a comment enlightening me, because that's another thing I like about Southron Gaard!The band weaving was pretty good, too, although I wanted to have a word with the weaver about tension and how they planned to do the finishing. Still, I'll probably see this being worn somewhere next year and can see how it all came together then. The callig and illum in the background was also biffo.
For some reason Myne incorporated an evil chicken impersonation into her A&S display ...One of the good things about Canty Faire being so small is that the A&S displays are able to go on at the level of "Here's what I did, here's why I did it." "Oh, that's interesting, I like these bits, have you read X or thought about incorporating Y? Good job, you, well done!"
Now theoretically that's what Laurel Prize Tourney at Festival is like. And sometimes it works the right way. But more often it's too crowded and filled with non-laurels who've forgotten about Laurel-only hour and then no matter how often you ask people if they want a form, they say no until they decide 10 minutes later they really do ... and it's just too much, even if you do pay very close attention to just being a good listening Laurel, the sheer number of entrants and laurels means you only have a couple of minutes per person if you want to see everyone. So instead we tend to make choices and sometimes overlook things we think we know or think we wouldn't be that interested in. Which means that we miss out on good stuff. In the overall scheme of things it evens out, because we all make different choices and so can compare notes afterwards, but it's still annoying.
One of the people I had most fun talking to at Fair was William de Wyke about shoes and leather. In fact, he did a running repair for me when I blew out one of my turn shoes, and then sent me home with smuggled goop (not as dodgy as it sounds, and that reminds me, MUST get recipe this time ...) so that I could do the same myself. In addition to his research on cordwaining and cobbling, he has been working on various accessories including this very nice scabbard. He is talking about starting up a guild, his laurel Alys suggested that he start two, one for cobblers and one for cordwainers and then have inter-guild rivalry and see them issue a series of complaints against each other. Sometimes I think that local government is missing out greatly and that Alys really needs to reconsider depriving them of her evil genius. Because while she would doubtless set opposing sides of the council at each other's throats, she would also use the cover provided by the fracas to push through fully funded educational and social services that would improve the world. I'm just not convinced she wouldn't be having more fun watching the debates ...
William also made the chape for the scabbard. Damned talented people, we hates them! Except that he's a good teaching talented person, so there's every chance that he can show me how its all done enough for me to work it out some day. I was very impressed, and enjoyed his chat on how it had all come together, including the disaster parts, very much. I heartily encourage people to include the disaster parts in their A&S chats as they are a great relief for all the listeners. Not to mention a good way of conveying what not to do.
In addition to 'things' A&S, Canterbury Faire has a good tradition of performance A&S. The highlights are trotted out at the half-circle theatre, so called because the audience sits in a predictable geometric shape. Here's (from left) Baron Master Sigurd, Baroness Mistress Eleanora, Baron Sir Inigo, Baroness Cecilia, and, up in the back, Amanda on the far left, Lea in the middle and Dickon on the far right. I think I've mentioned before Lea's infatuation with Dickon, which is very cute (if you ever wish to tease Dickon, just say: "But it'll be OK, because when she's 18, you'll be 28 ..." he wails and says: "I don't want to be that guy!" Dickon rocks.) In the shot two before this, Lea is sitting next to Amanda, then she's half way over, by two after, she's beside him, where she stayed throughout the performance. It's his own fault for being such a piggyback provider, he's like the teenaged version of J.
The performances were up and down; there was a professional play troupe that I found rather over-mannered and not really to my taste. To be fair, they were wearing costumes that were jarring with the event, so I wasn;t in the right headspace, and they were also still in rehearsal and trying to do a condensed scene in a strange environment. Also, I'm astonishingly picky and annoying. Vitale and Finr did some highly amusing schtick which was made all the funnier by the contrast of the gregarious knight with the taciturn skald. The music was uniformly good; singing in particular has come a very long way from my first fair three years ago. The organisation has met up with the talent and there is a level of sophistication that reflects the amount of time and passion people have brought to the task. There was also a play that had a girl playing the Empress or Queen who looked very much like my darling Hillary (who has just landed a dream job at the Museum of London), I saw a girl who looked very much like her at Festival and kept wanting to run up and say "Are you from Southron Gaard?" but I try to maintain at least a veneer of cool. A very very thin one ...
As always, the kids were a joy to interact with, even if we seem to have been put into the role of dependable transport (if only we had the wheelbarrow!) Sir Inigo and co built another hay fort and there was a sleepout which included a moderate amount of giggling, but led to pleas for age differentiated sleepouts next year so that the big kids could keep on with their gasbagging till much later without disturbing the little kids. Why is it that I can foresee wails of protest from the kids just below the age cut off?Amusingly, it's really J that most of the kids love the most. I'm just the one who comes with the package. So apparently grumpy works for the young set. I think that we do, however, meet the criteria for the adults that I considered to be my friends when I was that age: we listen to the kids as though they are people, we try to explain things when they ask us questions, we see their points of view even when we have to say that their parents are still right, and we know that they aren't always interested in the same things adults are. In the same way, the Canty Faire kids are very good at knowing that adults need time too and are also people. I really like the way they see their parents as real people for the most part. Even the little ones have some understanding of it. In a world where communication in families seems increasingly to fall by the wayside, this is a very good thing to have as a norm. All the B-k kids, Rosetta and Alexandria in particular have made me go a wee bit misty eyed in their descriptions of how good their parents are.
They also have very high opinions of the populace, which made me laugh when one little girl was telling me how she wants to grow up to be just like Christia, and another wondered if it might not be easier to pursue C&I and be like Belle. The boys were more even-handed and were cherry-picking qualities from several knights, barons and other notables for their aspirational figures. I hope that happens on this side of the ditch, too, though I suspect you need to be the welcome outsider figure to actually hear it.
I'm sure that I'm missing some terribly important things I wanted to talk about. I did go over with all sorts of plans to talk with adults and be very Laurelly. In fact I ended up babysitting and chasing hedgehogs a lot.It was an excellent event, stewarded by the one-working-collarboned Master Llewellyn and with great food (as always) and a convivial atmosphere overall. There was some weirdness; the locals tramping and driving through site over the long weekend was a tad confronting, and katherine's revenge belling was very funny but no one should ever tell her she is less than lovely.
It being the first time Iarnulfr was back led to some tentativeness on both sides of the old divide, which people handled with dignity and maturity. Because they're all good at being grown-ups. But I was very happy to see him because I like having a forge at an event and I like his inspiring of "stuff" around a campsite. And although he has been thoroughly Terra Rossaned in the last five-odd years, it was interesting to see how quickly he and Jenny Kiwied ...
To touch on politics briefly, I did wish that the old seneschallate had followed through on the original theory of a truth and reconciliation style report over the college difficulties all those years ago, because the way the report was handled meant the significant systems problems that were a major cause (not least those from the university) were never aired, and there are a some residual feelings of confusion and crossness in older players. That was my mistake, I think. I should have insisted it be a Crown-run matter rather than handing it off. That way any anger would have attached only to us, and we could have listened our way through it.
On the up side, there's an entire generation of younger players who have no idea what the fuck I am talking about in that last paragraph. Suffice to say that when it comes to issues that aren't black and white and don't need mundane resolutions, I now almost wholly recommend that they are dealt with by the in-game side; the K&Q, or the B&B, not the more mundane seneschallate. My reasons for this are simple. Seneschals look for the bases of problems and blame apportionment when they are solving them. This is a necessary part of their job.
Royalty, on the other hand, should be all about wanting the group to thrive and every individual within it succeed. That's what creates a healthy kingdom. Now and then they have to inadverantly crush people's dreams, usually in baronial selection processes, but on the whole it's all about the rewarding and encouraging. So the urge is to say "Oh look, that's what the problem was! Let's never do that again!"
I screwed up in believing that same end could come about through other agents.
On the other hand, Seneschals are indispensible when it comes to significant problems that do have or still have a mundane component (some problems have a small window when there may be a need for mundane involvement, which later closes.) One of the people who I have enjoyed meeting most and grown to respect the most in the last few years was Collum, the Seneschal of River Haven. He had a giant problem fall into his lap which was very mundane-law-necessary. He did everything exactly right, and interacted perfectly with his local landed royalty (Somerled and Caelia, who were great) and then with us so that we just had to give the final sign-off to his process. Subsequently he has gone through another similar issue, if not so severe, and been a wonder to another set of B&B and K&Qs.
Alfar actually asked me to start writing up some of these monarchopolitical insights for others, which I should really do this month ...
This is not the greatest photo, but that bare belly is indeed Baron Callum who was portraying Buddha in the gods and monsters tournament. A more terrifying sight I cannot imagine across the field. His great good humour in the role was matched by his great stoicism when the belly bruises began to appear later in the day. I am told, too, that there were more tales in the Mong, which I sincerely miss hearing. There are few storytellers quite so captivating. Fingers crossed he writes it all up for next years Tales.
And this was Baron Sigurd's Ghost of Fighters Past. A simple, yet inspired concept. The scent of unwashed gambeson and linament adding a subtle touch of realism to the ensemble ...Sigurd also had good news at Fair, which I think he's let out, but in case it's not universally known, just some quiet yaying at this end. I'm a bit sad J mangled his elbow, since I think it would have been very fun to be stepping up at Midwinter. I imagine that sadness will have waned by about September ...
Finally, a lovely shot of Roisin and one of my favourite Ynys Fawrians whose name I can never get straight. Lovely chap, good artisan in a variety of fields, straight talking gentle humourist who owns a great hat. And, like us, perennial piggybacker. Truly is it said that the next generation stands on the shoulders of this one. Or, more accurately, sits comfortably somewhere in the back region after repeated cries of "Up, up!" and "Carry me!"[Edited to correct the spelling of Alexandria's name, who is also Amethyst. Yeah, yeah, you lot have met my memory ...]
posted by Miss D at 2:20 am
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