Renaissance Festival: Second Weekend 2010
Rookie Year: Oh no! My sleeve has a rip! I must patch it immediately!!
17th Year: Oh, hell. My pants split up the crotch. Well, if I wear dark underwear and watch how I sit, they’ll make it another weekend… I can sew them up when I go to Mom & Dad’s on Thursday.
Conditions Report:
The weekend was hot. Nasty, icky, wiltingly hot - although at least the humidity wasn’t too bad. And there was a decent breeze. On the other hand, it hadn’t rained in a really long time, so the breeze made the place a dust bowl. Also, the mosquito population is horrific this year. The vicious little mutants are usually only a problem after the sun goes down and the patrons clear out, but the bloodsucking beasts were attacking in broad daylight. I have sixty-seven mosquito bites and would like very much to crawl out of my skin.
The highlights:
- Foxtail with BJ on Sunday. My aim has improved. Drastically. Yay me. Also, BJ scored a field goal while tossing from under his leg. I am not nearly that cool.
- Rescued a damsel in distress. A lovely bellydancer (though I’ve yet to meet one that wasn’t) came up to BJ and me as we were parting ways after our game of foxtail and asked if I was a musician. Recorder at my belt, I had to admit occasional bursts of musical aptitude. BJ admitted to being a drummer. Apparently her musicians had flaked on her, and she needed to perform for Queen’s Tea - so BJ and I agreed to provide some improv backdrop for her routine. Thankfully she was cool with punting - BJ drums for dancers on a regular basis, but it’s been a long damn time since I had to play something that wasn’t from the British Isles. It was fun in any event, and when we’d finished she suggested jamming sometime. I find myself looking forward to the prospect.
- Gate shifts both days. I’ve never done Gate before in an official capacity, so I thought I ought to give it a shot in case I need to write realistically about it. Plus, it’s a paid gig, and a little extra cash doesn’t go amiss now that I’m not part of a musical act that passes hat. I was on the exit gate both days - first day was a bit more dull, just wishing people safe travels, thanking them for coming, and making sure no one left with booze in their mugs. Sunday was more chaotic - I was the only one for two gates, so it’s a bit of a trick to keep an eye on both of them. Thankfully Sofia Panini and the Concierge were there doing stuff as well, so they could lend an extra set of eyes - and some backup when people would decide that it wasn’t actually necessary to listen to the short chick no matter how firmly she put her foot down. Though, to be fair, most people are tremendously cool about proving their mugs are empty, letting someone sniff to be sure the contents aren’t alcohol, or chugging/dumping the remainder of their beer. On Sunday I was also Keeper of the Hand Stamp, which happened to be three flamingoes. Apparently Trinket likes flamingoes - or, at least, finds them amusing. Or just likes to say “Flamingoes for everyone!”
- Readings both days went well. I experimented with a few scenes I don’t usually use on Saturday and was pleased with the results, so I might add them to the list of stuff to use. On Sunday I got into a lovely conversation with a young lady who wants to start writing stuff. As much as for me writing has always been a compulsion - do it or go mad - over the years it’s gotten to be just part of what I do an who I am. I love it. I have days where I feel brilliant and days where I feel like a complete hack, but I’ve gotten used to those swings. I don’t remember a time when I wasn’t writing or telling stories, but I do remember the point at which I decided to be serious about the whole thing. (Fifth or sixth grade - I was the dork on the side of the playground with a notebook and a pen.) It’s so cool to be reminded of the energy and enthusiasm that sets us all on that path in the first place - when things are new and you have no idea if you can pull it off, but by the gods you’re going to try!
- Watering parade. I’ve discovered that I can two-fist the pitchers, which is handy when people are filing in from parade and don’t have time to wait in line on their way to the Royal Reception. Unfortunately we’re down to five pitchers from the seven with which we started… I’m hoping it was an opportunistic patron because the thought of a rennie who knows what they’re used for running off with the things is just unconscionable. Not that stealing is good in general, but bonus loss of karma points if you know it’s endangering someone’s health in the process. A bunch of stuff is missing from Cottage, too - including the big yellow cooler thing that used to hold the water jug. And the bellows for the fire. And a bunch of the drinkware. And granted, it was all missing last year, too, but it still pisses me off.
- A bit of photographic serendipity. Amber Moon (shop by Front Gate, carvings of amber and bone - beautiful stuff) has a bin of art prints in the back, and out of curiosity I flipped through them. Imagine my surprise when I ran into a lovely framed photo of a couple of kids I know. They’re the sons of a couple former rennies with whom I am friends. I inquired as to who had taken it and the fellow behind the counter said that he had. I said it was extra neat because I knew the kids, and it was a perfect picture of them. He said that was great, as he’d snapped it last year and didn’t know who they were, but had hoped that if he put it in the bin that someone would recognize them and be able to deliver it for him. I happily volunteered. What are the odds? I love it when the universe clicks together like that.
- Watching ducks eat while I put on my morning dose of sunscreen. They’re Peking ducks, so they’re white, but Trinket adores ducks and so this entertained her vastly.
- Un-losting many patrons. It might seem like a small thing, but those maps really do suck, and I remember what it was like to get completely turned around when I was first out there. Being able to remove that sort of hitch in someone’s day so they can get on with the business of having fun (or make it to their show on time) gives me a happy, glowy feeling. Plus, my sense of direction sucks, so it’s nice to be the one on the giving end of the directions for a change.
- Helping cook around Cottage. Meat pies - yum. And, of course, while there, good stories and playing with patrons who walked through. It’s fun to hear what their favorite parts of their days were. There was one couple from Hungary who was visiting their daughter (who played translator). It always amazes me when people come from distances like that and choose to spend one of their days at Fest. (One group of people from my gate shift were from Nebraska and had spent Saturday at Bristol in Wisconsin and Sunday with us. Which was hardcore in its own awesome way.)
- Wine and cheese party after hours at Pagan Oaks. Alcohol is one of those expenses one can easily do without, so we’ve been doing without it… but it was fun to sample a bunch of stuff and get mildly tipsy on it (BJ brought some sort of pumpkin wine - odd and delightful and did not, thankfully, taste a thing like pumpkin). The cheeses were also lovely - although, as a pity, I don’t know what most of them were. I was chatting with Autumn and Bill (the Younger) when from across the camp I hear a fellow call, “Hey, Meghan, are you a vegetarian?” - apparently Miss Fiona had decided that I needed a plate like everyone else had, and so had enlisted the aid of a nearby adult to assemble one. And thought that sausage should be part of it. I’m not a vegetarian (largely because I’m far too fond of bacon), but I love that people think to ask stuff like that at Fest. The company, of course, was even better than the edibles, and Bill, Autumn, and I capped the night with a ramble around site while we chatted about geeky stuff and days gone by. Also, I managed not to fall headlong over any of the trash can frames - though I maintain that the one sitting right in the middle of the patch of bright full-moonlight was only attempting to appear innocent and would’ve leapt at me if I’d gotten any closer than I did.
Still, I had fun. Lots of it. Enough that despite the infernal itching, I’d happily go back and do it all again -- although this time I wouldn’t trust those stinking all-natural mosquito repellant bracelets. I wore two and they did NOTHING.
17th Year: Oh, hell. My pants split up the crotch. Well, if I wear dark underwear and watch how I sit, they’ll make it another weekend… I can sew them up when I go to Mom & Dad’s on Thursday.
Conditions Report:
The weekend was hot. Nasty, icky, wiltingly hot - although at least the humidity wasn’t too bad. And there was a decent breeze. On the other hand, it hadn’t rained in a really long time, so the breeze made the place a dust bowl. Also, the mosquito population is horrific this year. The vicious little mutants are usually only a problem after the sun goes down and the patrons clear out, but the bloodsucking beasts were attacking in broad daylight. I have sixty-seven mosquito bites and would like very much to crawl out of my skin.
The highlights:
- Foxtail with BJ on Sunday. My aim has improved. Drastically. Yay me. Also, BJ scored a field goal while tossing from under his leg. I am not nearly that cool.
- Rescued a damsel in distress. A lovely bellydancer (though I’ve yet to meet one that wasn’t) came up to BJ and me as we were parting ways after our game of foxtail and asked if I was a musician. Recorder at my belt, I had to admit occasional bursts of musical aptitude. BJ admitted to being a drummer. Apparently her musicians had flaked on her, and she needed to perform for Queen’s Tea - so BJ and I agreed to provide some improv backdrop for her routine. Thankfully she was cool with punting - BJ drums for dancers on a regular basis, but it’s been a long damn time since I had to play something that wasn’t from the British Isles. It was fun in any event, and when we’d finished she suggested jamming sometime. I find myself looking forward to the prospect.
- Gate shifts both days. I’ve never done Gate before in an official capacity, so I thought I ought to give it a shot in case I need to write realistically about it. Plus, it’s a paid gig, and a little extra cash doesn’t go amiss now that I’m not part of a musical act that passes hat. I was on the exit gate both days - first day was a bit more dull, just wishing people safe travels, thanking them for coming, and making sure no one left with booze in their mugs. Sunday was more chaotic - I was the only one for two gates, so it’s a bit of a trick to keep an eye on both of them. Thankfully Sofia Panini and the Concierge were there doing stuff as well, so they could lend an extra set of eyes - and some backup when people would decide that it wasn’t actually necessary to listen to the short chick no matter how firmly she put her foot down. Though, to be fair, most people are tremendously cool about proving their mugs are empty, letting someone sniff to be sure the contents aren’t alcohol, or chugging/dumping the remainder of their beer. On Sunday I was also Keeper of the Hand Stamp, which happened to be three flamingoes. Apparently Trinket likes flamingoes - or, at least, finds them amusing. Or just likes to say “Flamingoes for everyone!”
- Readings both days went well. I experimented with a few scenes I don’t usually use on Saturday and was pleased with the results, so I might add them to the list of stuff to use. On Sunday I got into a lovely conversation with a young lady who wants to start writing stuff. As much as for me writing has always been a compulsion - do it or go mad - over the years it’s gotten to be just part of what I do an who I am. I love it. I have days where I feel brilliant and days where I feel like a complete hack, but I’ve gotten used to those swings. I don’t remember a time when I wasn’t writing or telling stories, but I do remember the point at which I decided to be serious about the whole thing. (Fifth or sixth grade - I was the dork on the side of the playground with a notebook and a pen.) It’s so cool to be reminded of the energy and enthusiasm that sets us all on that path in the first place - when things are new and you have no idea if you can pull it off, but by the gods you’re going to try!
- Watering parade. I’ve discovered that I can two-fist the pitchers, which is handy when people are filing in from parade and don’t have time to wait in line on their way to the Royal Reception. Unfortunately we’re down to five pitchers from the seven with which we started… I’m hoping it was an opportunistic patron because the thought of a rennie who knows what they’re used for running off with the things is just unconscionable. Not that stealing is good in general, but bonus loss of karma points if you know it’s endangering someone’s health in the process. A bunch of stuff is missing from Cottage, too - including the big yellow cooler thing that used to hold the water jug. And the bellows for the fire. And a bunch of the drinkware. And granted, it was all missing last year, too, but it still pisses me off.
- A bit of photographic serendipity. Amber Moon (shop by Front Gate, carvings of amber and bone - beautiful stuff) has a bin of art prints in the back, and out of curiosity I flipped through them. Imagine my surprise when I ran into a lovely framed photo of a couple of kids I know. They’re the sons of a couple former rennies with whom I am friends. I inquired as to who had taken it and the fellow behind the counter said that he had. I said it was extra neat because I knew the kids, and it was a perfect picture of them. He said that was great, as he’d snapped it last year and didn’t know who they were, but had hoped that if he put it in the bin that someone would recognize them and be able to deliver it for him. I happily volunteered. What are the odds? I love it when the universe clicks together like that.
- Watching ducks eat while I put on my morning dose of sunscreen. They’re Peking ducks, so they’re white, but Trinket adores ducks and so this entertained her vastly.
- Un-losting many patrons. It might seem like a small thing, but those maps really do suck, and I remember what it was like to get completely turned around when I was first out there. Being able to remove that sort of hitch in someone’s day so they can get on with the business of having fun (or make it to their show on time) gives me a happy, glowy feeling. Plus, my sense of direction sucks, so it’s nice to be the one on the giving end of the directions for a change.
- Helping cook around Cottage. Meat pies - yum. And, of course, while there, good stories and playing with patrons who walked through. It’s fun to hear what their favorite parts of their days were. There was one couple from Hungary who was visiting their daughter (who played translator). It always amazes me when people come from distances like that and choose to spend one of their days at Fest. (One group of people from my gate shift were from Nebraska and had spent Saturday at Bristol in Wisconsin and Sunday with us. Which was hardcore in its own awesome way.)
- Wine and cheese party after hours at Pagan Oaks. Alcohol is one of those expenses one can easily do without, so we’ve been doing without it… but it was fun to sample a bunch of stuff and get mildly tipsy on it (BJ brought some sort of pumpkin wine - odd and delightful and did not, thankfully, taste a thing like pumpkin). The cheeses were also lovely - although, as a pity, I don’t know what most of them were. I was chatting with Autumn and Bill (the Younger) when from across the camp I hear a fellow call, “Hey, Meghan, are you a vegetarian?” - apparently Miss Fiona had decided that I needed a plate like everyone else had, and so had enlisted the aid of a nearby adult to assemble one. And thought that sausage should be part of it. I’m not a vegetarian (largely because I’m far too fond of bacon), but I love that people think to ask stuff like that at Fest. The company, of course, was even better than the edibles, and Bill, Autumn, and I capped the night with a ramble around site while we chatted about geeky stuff and days gone by. Also, I managed not to fall headlong over any of the trash can frames - though I maintain that the one sitting right in the middle of the patch of bright full-moonlight was only attempting to appear innocent and would’ve leapt at me if I’d gotten any closer than I did.
Still, I had fun. Lots of it. Enough that despite the infernal itching, I’d happily go back and do it all again -- although this time I wouldn’t trust those stinking all-natural mosquito repellant bracelets. I wore two and they did NOTHING.