a Pennsic vignette
Wednesday night as we were preparing dinner a mighty storm came roaring down on us. It started with high winds, during which we dropped the canopies and made sure tents were secure. As the rains started, most of us headed for the house and a few instead headed for the pantry and kitchen, the other buildings (rather than tents) in camp.
In the house we opened the camp-ward windows (which were not wind-ward) to watch the storm. After a few minutes someone spotted an impending visitor, and a moment later we opened the door to alaricmacconnal, bearing an umbrella and a mischievous smile. He noted that they in the kitchen/pantry were well-stocked with food and drink and they were concerned about us. We requested goldfish crackers and water and he headed back across the camp.
A few minutes later he returned, bearing a box of crackers, a jug of water, and a bottle of white wine. (Fish calls for white and not red, right?) We thanked him and he returned to the pantry rather than joining us. We went back to watching the storm and listening to Lucetta tell a Russian fairy tale.
Several minutes later Alaric was back, this time bearing a bottle of red wine, mere moments after we had finished the bottle of white. He also offered us uncooked pasta, but we declined that offer. The storm ended not long after; I don't know what the next round would have been.
The next night, at about the same time, another big storm came through. This time the people heading into the house brought sustenance -- and it's just as well, because I don't think the pantry folks would have sent an emissary out into a hailstorm.
In the house we opened the camp-ward windows (which were not wind-ward) to watch the storm. After a few minutes someone spotted an impending visitor, and a moment later we opened the door to alaricmacconnal, bearing an umbrella and a mischievous smile. He noted that they in the kitchen/pantry were well-stocked with food and drink and they were concerned about us. We requested goldfish crackers and water and he headed back across the camp.
A few minutes later he returned, bearing a box of crackers, a jug of water, and a bottle of white wine. (Fish calls for white and not red, right?) We thanked him and he returned to the pantry rather than joining us. We went back to watching the storm and listening to Lucetta tell a Russian fairy tale.
Several minutes later Alaric was back, this time bearing a bottle of red wine, mere moments after we had finished the bottle of white. He also offered us uncooked pasta, but we declined that offer. The storm ended not long after; I don't know what the next round would have been.
The next night, at about the same time, another big storm came through. This time the people heading into the house brought sustenance -- and it's just as well, because I don't think the pantry folks would have sent an emissary out into a hailstorm.