Nature Is Awesome -- As Are Clowns!
Well, this weekend we went camping, which I was rather reluctant to do (much as I love sitting in nature and simply writing or enjoying the peace and quiet, I was going to attempt to do such with my family and my father's S.O. and her miserable little offspring) but I am grateful we went. We stayed at Crabtree Campgrounds, or something like that, which had us tenting alongside a beautiful river (very gorgeous ambience, but made for rather confusing awakening) but I nevertheless continued with my strange curse of ever-deflating air mattresses. They just won't stay fully inflated for me, ever. Mind, the second night I had more luck, but my hips were still touching hard ground by halfway through the night -- I never get good sleep out there. Tried taking cat naps here and there, but as stated before, it didn't work so well. Friday we had little to do but set up camp, and smores. I like my marshmallows on fire -- a black layer around them, the whole thing engulfed just to be sure -- gooey on the inside, but with crunchy charcoal to taste, pressed between two graham crackers as you slide it off the stick, sliding a chocolate slab in before pressing it together and spreading the marshmallow out to cover the whole smore. Delicious stuff. Sugar did hell on my teeth though. It was a bittersweet forcing halfway through my third one, and only because they were being put away, and it was the last piece of chocolate for that candy bar. Breakfast in the morning was the best -- plate-sized, fluffy blueberry pancakes (with blueberries tossed in as one side is cooking), sausage, bacon, ham (one of my personal favourites -- especially pineapple topped honeyed ham from the holidays) and eggs, all lightly seasoned by the syrup for my pancakes (syrup is a cure-all for bland eggs -- I've learned that from plenty of lady prayer breakfasts. No offense, but the guy who usually caters those things is horrible. Church family or not, he's not catering my wedding, and my mom was all too quick to agree with me on that one). Lunch was meat/cheese sandwiches, although we had to go on a small quest to find cheese -- we ended up cleaning out the camp shop of their three small packs of (what is the brand called? with the cow on it) cheese, but also found out they had those tiny cups of ice cream there, too. Hobo pies (like a chicken pot pie, only way more random, with italian dressing instead of gravy/broth, and no breading -- all cooked in a tin foil wrapping buried under coals in the fire) and Ben & Jerry's mint cookie for dessert (for myself, anyway -- I know Dad got himself three things of Cherry Garcia) and as we ate, we played Apples to Apples, which was insanely fun. The cards are completely random, and the answers some people gave were absolutely hillarious. Although I'm still amused Logan chose Kung Fu Movies over Yoda for "plucky". The boy is absolutely useless without his mother. Eleven or not, he's completely incompetent. [/rant]
Of course, that's neglecting to mention the hike. After breakfast, we packed up lunch and drove up half a mile to a hiking trail that would climb a mountain, following the waterfall that fed the river we were camping beside. It was about 3 1/2 miles, but the trail zig zagged up the slope (my dad counted 17-19 switchbacks) that get increasingly difficult as you go up. I got some gorgeous photos and a brilliant story out of it (see below) and finally got to the top. I swear, I thought, "up, out of pictures. I'll just run ahead and get a new card." I had to hike for a whole other HOUR before I finally got to the top where everyone was waiting like no one's business. After that, hiking back down, my confidence shattered by nearly slipping and falling to my death thirty times (half of which were going up). On the plus side, every new bend gave me more for this story:
basic premise: young boy (mother dying of cancer, father's a doctor and can't help her) seeks the aid of a witch his babysitter has told him tales of since he was a young boy. in his time of need, he seeks out this woman, using the help of his stories and those he sees. accompanying him is an older neighborhood kid who is temporarily watching him when Mariam, aforementioned babysitter, is temporarily unavailable. the older child is a very cynical girl whose mother left many years ago -- she lives alone with her father. the two go into town to a local festival -- something along the lines of Wicked fest (i would assume -- it was steampunk themed, but i never went) or RenFaire, where there are people dressed in costume. We can be ambiguous about the season, so it can be good for Halloween or your local faire season, if you like. here, we ask around for Mariam, as we know she should be here -- she's been chattering about it for weeks. we follow the clues to a skyride -- a steampunk airship captain named Captain Billy George who captains a vessel named the HMS Christmas (a reference to a bench I saw at the mountain in the memory of William George Christmas. I'll have to contact his family for copyright info, I'm sure) -- where Mariam headed right for as soon as she got to faire. He does his usual trick, offering a short balloon ride, but the young boy asks for Mariam. The captain replies that she is a far ways away from here, and there isn't much way of getting her back anytime soon. He laughs, but the boy is persistent. He needs to see her now, it's an emergency. He explains that his mother is very sick and she can help. The captain is flustered, and the girl is getting frustrated, having had to cough up her own dough to get them in. "Look, just take us wherever she went. What does it cost?" He mistakes her impatience for passion. He smirks and says it costs nothing but a bit of their time and imagination. He tells them to wait for this next ride and then he'll take them there. Skip to their flying away from the faire, the young boy in awe at the sight below him, the girl obviously confused. "Where are we going?" she asks. The captain says they are going to [insert new name here] Mountain, to help them solve their problems. The girl is defensive, but the boy is hopeful. The captain lands them in the valley, pointing out the path that they should take up the mountain. He wishes them luck and departs.
...And I think I'm going to quit now.
Oh, stop yer bellyaching. Partly because it's getting late and I have exams in the morning, and partly because this is a good spot for a teaster. Oh come on! You won't get much better in the trailer! In fact, I'll make sure you won't get much better in the trailer, although I can assure you you'll see Swallow and his lady and JohnnyBoy and a troll -- I'll have to talk to Ik about a cameo appearance. Oh, hush. You'll get more as it comes along.
So, you see, I have another story. Airship Pirates -- Fantasy. Cousch's -- Sci-Fi. Matrix/Post-Apocalypse -- Post-Apocalypse/Religiousity/Futuristic Action (because the Matrix and the Island are quite a bit different from Titan A.E. and Star Wars). Oh, and Fleet Street and Katy Marie for historical novels, one Victorian, the other Medieval. Eventually that crappy, run-of-the-mill romantic comedy, too. Oh, and the Jester collection. That'll be fun, too. I might just add Tears of a Clown (memoir of a Ringling clown, if I can get the research done for it) to the Jester collection, although it might be good enough as a stand still. I'm considering making the Jester collection a book with three short stories rather than a collection of novels. But, that's just meself.
*le sigh* On that note, I did finally get the nerve to text Lance about getting his e-mail (I met him this year when Ringling Bros. was in town -- he's doing a documentary on religion at the moment, and he stopped by our church for some video shots. He's really a really nice guy, and damn good-looking to boot -- a clean-cut Christian boy, although his hair made him look a little like a Christian rock star. He dressed really nice, though, and I find I fancied him -- he's a bit like Eddie and Robert Brown and Tony and them. Y'know, my type. And he's a clown, so, you know he's gotta be fascinating. Looked up his bio, curious to know more about him after he left (I don't know if it's a personal or occupational thing, but he was a pretty elusive person) and he credits his inspiration to Jim Carey, and I said, " I knew there was a reason I liked this guy." I have a couple pics of him interviewing my brother at church (my only chance to get a couple of pics before he disappeared) as well as a couple that were in the circus program (he got us awesome seats -- front of the section, against the rail, and eyeline with the tight-rope walkers!) and I got the one on the clowns page signed by him during the Clown Alley opening show. He was very happy to see me (with a job as a travelling showman, you probably don't get a whole lot of people you know to come see you work) and said, "Hey!" in a happy, soft, high pitched voice and gave me a hug, but he had the most adoreable smile, and the most ridiculous costume -- Snape's already used him against me (the evil, sick bastard) and I assure you you'll see more of him again. Krusty is an amusing clown -- when I went to get his autograph, I was there with three other children -- a smaller boy, a girl, and a small boy. In order from left to right, ringing around him, with me after the last. The girl was the first to give him her book, and then he'd asked her for a pen. She'd give him the pen and as he took it, he'd dropped the book. He would scoff lightly and point at the book. She'd bend down and pick it up and hand it to him, but as he took it he dropped the pen. Another scoff, and she'd pick up the pen, only to have him drop the book again. This time, he lightly took the pen real quick, as if to make sure he didn't drop it again, and then quickly passed the book to the first boy, taking his book and signing it, giving it to the second boy and taking his (as the girl quickly retrieved her own boy and the first chased after the second boy), signing it and then giving it to me, who then took mine and gave it to the first boy, who in his confusion gave it to the girl. I was giggling rather badly by this point, and the clown just kind of scoffed at the nonsense and confusion around him, shaking his head in sad amusement as they sorted things out. The kids vanished away. He asked who else was here (only my dad, wandering around somewhere with the camera -- that might have been my mistake, mentioning the camera) and he mentioned his gladness that we could make it, and excused himself: "Excuse me, I have to go get something real quick. I'll be right back." Exact words. Needless to say, he didn't come back. My dad found me, however, with camera in hand, and I informed him of the clown's farewell, but he never returned. I assume he got caught up with job stuff backstage, although he didn't really show up until a good half hour into the show otherwise. I went around to get the other clowns' autographs (forget the animals, trapeze artists and stuntmen -- clowns have always been my favourite part of the circus) and only missed three! Believe you me, I was very proud of myself, though disappointed on the ones I'd missed. I also got a red, rubber clown nose (which feels awkward to breathe through, but you can keep it on your nose without string, which I didn't know before) and one of the souveneir hats that came with the cotton candy
...and I've been reminded it's late. Nature without humans is awesome, and I love clowns. Expanded edition printed later.
~K
Of course, that's neglecting to mention the hike. After breakfast, we packed up lunch and drove up half a mile to a hiking trail that would climb a mountain, following the waterfall that fed the river we were camping beside. It was about 3 1/2 miles, but the trail zig zagged up the slope (my dad counted 17-19 switchbacks) that get increasingly difficult as you go up. I got some gorgeous photos and a brilliant story out of it (see below) and finally got to the top. I swear, I thought, "up, out of pictures. I'll just run ahead and get a new card." I had to hike for a whole other HOUR before I finally got to the top where everyone was waiting like no one's business. After that, hiking back down, my confidence shattered by nearly slipping and falling to my death thirty times (half of which were going up). On the plus side, every new bend gave me more for this story:
basic premise: young boy (mother dying of cancer, father's a doctor and can't help her) seeks the aid of a witch his babysitter has told him tales of since he was a young boy. in his time of need, he seeks out this woman, using the help of his stories and those he sees. accompanying him is an older neighborhood kid who is temporarily watching him when Mariam, aforementioned babysitter, is temporarily unavailable. the older child is a very cynical girl whose mother left many years ago -- she lives alone with her father. the two go into town to a local festival -- something along the lines of Wicked fest (i would assume -- it was steampunk themed, but i never went) or RenFaire, where there are people dressed in costume. We can be ambiguous about the season, so it can be good for Halloween or your local faire season, if you like. here, we ask around for Mariam, as we know she should be here -- she's been chattering about it for weeks. we follow the clues to a skyride -- a steampunk airship captain named Captain Billy George who captains a vessel named the HMS Christmas (a reference to a bench I saw at the mountain in the memory of William George Christmas. I'll have to contact his family for copyright info, I'm sure) -- where Mariam headed right for as soon as she got to faire. He does his usual trick, offering a short balloon ride, but the young boy asks for Mariam. The captain replies that she is a far ways away from here, and there isn't much way of getting her back anytime soon. He laughs, but the boy is persistent. He needs to see her now, it's an emergency. He explains that his mother is very sick and she can help. The captain is flustered, and the girl is getting frustrated, having had to cough up her own dough to get them in. "Look, just take us wherever she went. What does it cost?" He mistakes her impatience for passion. He smirks and says it costs nothing but a bit of their time and imagination. He tells them to wait for this next ride and then he'll take them there. Skip to their flying away from the faire, the young boy in awe at the sight below him, the girl obviously confused. "Where are we going?" she asks. The captain says they are going to [insert new name here] Mountain, to help them solve their problems. The girl is defensive, but the boy is hopeful. The captain lands them in the valley, pointing out the path that they should take up the mountain. He wishes them luck and departs.
...And I think I'm going to quit now.
Oh, stop yer bellyaching. Partly because it's getting late and I have exams in the morning, and partly because this is a good spot for a teaster. Oh come on! You won't get much better in the trailer! In fact, I'll make sure you won't get much better in the trailer, although I can assure you you'll see Swallow and his lady and JohnnyBoy and a troll -- I'll have to talk to Ik about a cameo appearance. Oh, hush. You'll get more as it comes along.
So, you see, I have another story. Airship Pirates -- Fantasy. Cousch's -- Sci-Fi. Matrix/Post-Apocalypse -- Post-Apocalypse/Religiousity/Futuristic Action (because the Matrix and the Island are quite a bit different from Titan A.E. and Star Wars). Oh, and Fleet Street and Katy Marie for historical novels, one Victorian, the other Medieval. Eventually that crappy, run-of-the-mill romantic comedy, too. Oh, and the Jester collection. That'll be fun, too. I might just add Tears of a Clown (memoir of a Ringling clown, if I can get the research done for it) to the Jester collection, although it might be good enough as a stand still. I'm considering making the Jester collection a book with three short stories rather than a collection of novels. But, that's just meself.
*le sigh* On that note, I did finally get the nerve to text Lance about getting his e-mail (I met him this year when Ringling Bros. was in town -- he's doing a documentary on religion at the moment, and he stopped by our church for some video shots. He's really a really nice guy, and damn good-looking to boot -- a clean-cut Christian boy, although his hair made him look a little like a Christian rock star. He dressed really nice, though, and I find I fancied him -- he's a bit like Eddie and Robert Brown and Tony and them. Y'know, my type. And he's a clown, so, you know he's gotta be fascinating. Looked up his bio, curious to know more about him after he left (I don't know if it's a personal or occupational thing, but he was a pretty elusive person) and he credits his inspiration to Jim Carey, and I said, " I knew there was a reason I liked this guy." I have a couple pics of him interviewing my brother at church (my only chance to get a couple of pics before he disappeared) as well as a couple that were in the circus program (he got us awesome seats -- front of the section, against the rail, and eyeline with the tight-rope walkers!) and I got the one on the clowns page signed by him during the Clown Alley opening show. He was very happy to see me (with a job as a travelling showman, you probably don't get a whole lot of people you know to come see you work) and said, "Hey!" in a happy, soft, high pitched voice and gave me a hug, but he had the most adoreable smile, and the most ridiculous costume -- Snape's already used him against me (the evil, sick bastard) and I assure you you'll see more of him again. Krusty is an amusing clown -- when I went to get his autograph, I was there with three other children -- a smaller boy, a girl, and a small boy. In order from left to right, ringing around him, with me after the last. The girl was the first to give him her book, and then he'd asked her for a pen. She'd give him the pen and as he took it, he'd dropped the book. He would scoff lightly and point at the book. She'd bend down and pick it up and hand it to him, but as he took it he dropped the pen. Another scoff, and she'd pick up the pen, only to have him drop the book again. This time, he lightly took the pen real quick, as if to make sure he didn't drop it again, and then quickly passed the book to the first boy, taking his book and signing it, giving it to the second boy and taking his (as the girl quickly retrieved her own boy and the first chased after the second boy), signing it and then giving it to me, who then took mine and gave it to the first boy, who in his confusion gave it to the girl. I was giggling rather badly by this point, and the clown just kind of scoffed at the nonsense and confusion around him, shaking his head in sad amusement as they sorted things out. The kids vanished away. He asked who else was here (only my dad, wandering around somewhere with the camera -- that might have been my mistake, mentioning the camera) and he mentioned his gladness that we could make it, and excused himself: "Excuse me, I have to go get something real quick. I'll be right back." Exact words. Needless to say, he didn't come back. My dad found me, however, with camera in hand, and I informed him of the clown's farewell, but he never returned. I assume he got caught up with job stuff backstage, although he didn't really show up until a good half hour into the show otherwise. I went around to get the other clowns' autographs (forget the animals, trapeze artists and stuntmen -- clowns have always been my favourite part of the circus) and only missed three! Believe you me, I was very proud of myself, though disappointed on the ones I'd missed. I also got a red, rubber clown nose (which feels awkward to breathe through, but you can keep it on your nose without string, which I didn't know before) and one of the souveneir hats that came with the cotton candy
...and I've been reminded it's late. Nature without humans is awesome, and I love clowns. Expanded edition printed later.
~K