yay, me!
Yesterday was a great event. Nice site, perfect number of attendees, really good feast (I got so full I couldn't even attempt to eat the last two or three dishes) and the apprenticing ceremony went really well. Okay, so I forgot to say about half of what I had planned. Okay, all right already, maybe planned is too strong a word. Sort of thought about things it'd be good to say? Yeah, that's more accurate.
I had gathered a few little symbolic things-- a tiny little book, a quill pen, a magic-rub eraser, stuff like that. Completely forgot to give them to her. (Probably just as well, since I hadn't fully articulated what to say about each of them.) And on the way home last night I remembered that, pre-ceremony, I had even told Sunniva that I would probably include something I had heard frequently in these things-- something to the effect of "If you have a problem with my apprentice, please tell me, not her, because it will be my fault for not teaching her well." I told her I didn't want her freaking out, thinking she'd already done something wrong. Well, I forgot that too.
Those two things aside, I was very pleased with how it went. We had talked about what would comprise the ceremony-- what we each would say. Sunniva had done a fair amount of research on ceremonies, both period and SCA (that liberry gene coming out.) The one that stuck in my head was as follows: (obviously, substitute "Laurel" and "Apprentice")
*Crowd of witnesses is gathered with the Pelican and the protégé standing before them.*
Pelican: Will you do what I tell you, when I tell you, whatever I tell you?
Protégé: Yes.
Pelican: Fool.
Protégé: Yes.
Pelican: Come along, then. Work to be done.
*Pelican and protégé walk off together.*
Heh. In the event, we wound up winging it. Neither of us is really comfortable with ad-libbing, so we talked it over a bit before we started. That always helps, just having a good sense of what it's about. I felt a good deal calmer and more together than I did last year-- practice does help!
lady_guenievre was in charge of what was billed as a "light repast." Lordamercy, feast wound up at three and the ceremony started at four. Feast was so good-- and so big-- that I'm half surprised people could roll themselves to the ceremony, never mind find room for even a "light repast." Except G had provided Savory Toasted Cheese and tasty little meatballs, and Wystric made wonderful rosemary bread. No matter if they said they were full, somehow when people heard "STC" they all said, "Well..... maybe just a taste." Once they were thus lured to the table, they made room for the bread and the meatballs, and everything else besides. (The STC was very good with both the meatballs and the rosemary bread. Heh.) (For the non-SCAdians among my readers-- Savory Toasted Cheese is a sauce made of cream cheese, butter, and brie. Melted together. 3-2-1 proportions, in the order listed, I think. That's it. AKA "heart attack on a platter." Utterly moan-worthy. Good on anything savory, as far as we can tell.)
At the "sweet" end of the table, the fresh fruit-- grapes, cherries, mangoes, pineapple-- vanished at a reassuring rate, (they contrasted well with the STC) and the sweet breads provided by 3_purple_irises didn't exactly feel unloved, either. And OMG, harleenquinzell's chocolate cherry cookies! (Disclaimer: I'm surely forgetting some wonderful thing. If I am, I apologize heartily; I did get a migraine from all the sunshine yesterday, and it got worse overnight, so I'm pretty well able to guarantee that I'm missing something of major importance.)
Oh, and then there were my bourbon balls. Ahhhh, bourbon balls. Heh. I couldn't find my classic recipe from Kentucky, so I went online and found one. Silly girl. I should have known that whatever random person wrote that recipe didn't have a stake in keeping the bourbon industry healthy. That recipe called for one stick of butter, one pound of confectioner's sugar, and 4 tablespoons of bourbon. I decided to chocolate it up a bit and added maybe 1/4 cup of powdered cocoa to the mix. That was a good addition, BTW. (These things are supposed to be dipped in melted chocolate but I'm not that good. I rolled this batch in powdered sugar to coat them.) After talking to pertinent people, we decided that perhaps one batch (about 3 dozen) wasn't enough. In looking for another, unrelated, recipe, I had in the meantime found my original recipe for REAL bourbon balls. Forget that silly 4 tablespoons-- there are supposed to be 8 tablespoons of bourbon. Yow. I left the cocoa out of the mix on this batch, but to compensate for the extra liquid I had to add nearly a whole extra pound of sugar. Hey, this is candy, after all. I rolled this batch in cocoa powder. Because of the butter, and the heat yesterday, we stored the candy in the refrigerator-- and of course, forgot to get it out before the ceremony. People had been grazing for at least a half hour-- maybe an hour-- before I remembered them. Oops! Livia went running to the kitchen for them. I had stacked them on a platter, the first, powdered-sugar-coated, batch on one side, the second, cocoa-coverd batch on the other side. I described them as "Bourbon Balls" and "More Bourbon Balls. Ooooh, yeah, they were quite the hit. People kept calling them "Rum balls" though; I had to threaten to whack a few people over the head to make my point. No matter what they called 'em, though, they were big hits; there were only about a half dozen left from the original 6-8 dozen at the end of the day.
After the ceremony, I spent most of the rest of the afteroon and evening just hanging out under the pavilion, talking to people. One of the most interesting questions I've had for a long time came from ramblingheritic: How do you define "Peer Qualities?" Believe it or not, that isn't something I've put a lot of thought into. I think my modus operendi is to remember those Peers that I respect, and try to not make them embarrassed to admit that I'm a Peer too. Lord knows, I have strong feelings about how Peers should conduct themselves, especially Laurels, and especially in re judging competitions. Still, that's only part of the equation. And as I said earlier, I don't really think well on my feet, even when I'm sitting down. The best I could come up with included "grace under pressure," and "encouraging and supportive, especially when judging competitions." I also recalled an interview with an etiquette maven of yore who noted that good manners is making people feel comfortable, not making them aware of their etiquette shortcomings.
I do wonder sometimes why there seem to be so many Laurels that are so brusque. Does the artistic temperament mean that one is so focused on the art form of choice that one doesn't even think of other people's feelings? Balancing that, I recall some of the judges' comments that I have read-- not just on my competition entries but other people's, too. For all the bitching I've heard about comments that are rude or downright ugly, I have to say that a lot of times I didn't percieve the comments that way at all. In one example that will live in many memories forever, the judge asked "Have you looked at such-and-such a source?" which the recipient took to mean, "You idiot, have you EVEN LOOKED at this source?!" In this particular case, I had talked to the judge before the recipient saw the comment, (thus, the judge could not have been CYA-ing) and the judge was genuinely pleased to have been able to suggest a source that might be helpful. No negative connotations were intended at all. I explained this to the recipient. Nevertheless, the recipient, years later, is still utterly convinced that malice was intended.
Architecture school juries are a guaranteed inoculant against getting your feelings hurt too easily; if you are a delicate flower you tend to wash out very early on and change majors. I think sometimes, too, that I have a basically happy-go-lucky attitude and I don't just automatically assume malicious intent. Nope, you have to be pretty ugly and direct about it before I even notice, generally speaking. Which, I guess, is kind of a good thing. Makes life easier and much more pleasant. I'm such an ostrich.
Sadly, it's back to reality for me now. When I opened my email this morning, I had a note from the teacher of one my classes that starts on June 28; she's posted our syllabus and reading list for the five weeks of the session, along with a note saying that since the session is so short, she expects that we will have completed the first readings and be fully prepared to discuss during the first class. There are 2-4 chapters of the text plus 5-9 readings per session, with a total of about 200 pages of for each class. For each reading, we are to submit a "thoughtful" question, based on "thoughtful" reading, (her quotation marks) by noon the day before class. (Does this mean questions about something we don't understand, or questions that we might put on a test if we were teachers? Geez. I'm not that thoughtful.) Sigh. We also each have two- 20 minute presentations from the assigned readings, and each presentation is to be accompanied by handouts and/or AV materials. AND there's a 7-10 page paper due at the end of the class. Holy crap. No word yet on what the requirements for the other class will be. I'm glad I'll get two weeks off between class and Pennsic. Sadly, though, there's less than a week between the end of Pennsic and the beginning of the Fall semester.
I think I'd better go start reading... and rest up.
I had gathered a few little symbolic things-- a tiny little book, a quill pen, a magic-rub eraser, stuff like that. Completely forgot to give them to her. (Probably just as well, since I hadn't fully articulated what to say about each of them.) And on the way home last night I remembered that, pre-ceremony, I had even told Sunniva that I would probably include something I had heard frequently in these things-- something to the effect of "If you have a problem with my apprentice, please tell me, not her, because it will be my fault for not teaching her well." I told her I didn't want her freaking out, thinking she'd already done something wrong. Well, I forgot that too.
Those two things aside, I was very pleased with how it went. We had talked about what would comprise the ceremony-- what we each would say. Sunniva had done a fair amount of research on ceremonies, both period and SCA (that liberry gene coming out.) The one that stuck in my head was as follows: (obviously, substitute "Laurel" and "Apprentice")
*Crowd of witnesses is gathered with the Pelican and the protégé standing before them.*
Pelican: Will you do what I tell you, when I tell you, whatever I tell you?
Protégé: Yes.
Pelican: Fool.
Protégé: Yes.
Pelican: Come along, then. Work to be done.
*Pelican and protégé walk off together.*
Heh. In the event, we wound up winging it. Neither of us is really comfortable with ad-libbing, so we talked it over a bit before we started. That always helps, just having a good sense of what it's about. I felt a good deal calmer and more together than I did last year-- practice does help!
lady_guenievre was in charge of what was billed as a "light repast." Lordamercy, feast wound up at three and the ceremony started at four. Feast was so good-- and so big-- that I'm half surprised people could roll themselves to the ceremony, never mind find room for even a "light repast." Except G had provided Savory Toasted Cheese and tasty little meatballs, and Wystric made wonderful rosemary bread. No matter if they said they were full, somehow when people heard "STC" they all said, "Well..... maybe just a taste." Once they were thus lured to the table, they made room for the bread and the meatballs, and everything else besides. (The STC was very good with both the meatballs and the rosemary bread. Heh.) (For the non-SCAdians among my readers-- Savory Toasted Cheese is a sauce made of cream cheese, butter, and brie. Melted together. 3-2-1 proportions, in the order listed, I think. That's it. AKA "heart attack on a platter." Utterly moan-worthy. Good on anything savory, as far as we can tell.)
At the "sweet" end of the table, the fresh fruit-- grapes, cherries, mangoes, pineapple-- vanished at a reassuring rate, (they contrasted well with the STC) and the sweet breads provided by 3_purple_irises didn't exactly feel unloved, either. And OMG, harleenquinzell's chocolate cherry cookies! (Disclaimer: I'm surely forgetting some wonderful thing. If I am, I apologize heartily; I did get a migraine from all the sunshine yesterday, and it got worse overnight, so I'm pretty well able to guarantee that I'm missing something of major importance.)
Oh, and then there were my bourbon balls. Ahhhh, bourbon balls. Heh. I couldn't find my classic recipe from Kentucky, so I went online and found one. Silly girl. I should have known that whatever random person wrote that recipe didn't have a stake in keeping the bourbon industry healthy. That recipe called for one stick of butter, one pound of confectioner's sugar, and 4 tablespoons of bourbon. I decided to chocolate it up a bit and added maybe 1/4 cup of powdered cocoa to the mix. That was a good addition, BTW. (These things are supposed to be dipped in melted chocolate but I'm not that good. I rolled this batch in powdered sugar to coat them.) After talking to pertinent people, we decided that perhaps one batch (about 3 dozen) wasn't enough. In looking for another, unrelated, recipe, I had in the meantime found my original recipe for REAL bourbon balls. Forget that silly 4 tablespoons-- there are supposed to be 8 tablespoons of bourbon. Yow. I left the cocoa out of the mix on this batch, but to compensate for the extra liquid I had to add nearly a whole extra pound of sugar. Hey, this is candy, after all. I rolled this batch in cocoa powder. Because of the butter, and the heat yesterday, we stored the candy in the refrigerator-- and of course, forgot to get it out before the ceremony. People had been grazing for at least a half hour-- maybe an hour-- before I remembered them. Oops! Livia went running to the kitchen for them. I had stacked them on a platter, the first, powdered-sugar-coated, batch on one side, the second, cocoa-coverd batch on the other side. I described them as "Bourbon Balls" and "More Bourbon Balls. Ooooh, yeah, they were quite the hit. People kept calling them "Rum balls" though; I had to threaten to whack a few people over the head to make my point. No matter what they called 'em, though, they were big hits; there were only about a half dozen left from the original 6-8 dozen at the end of the day.
After the ceremony, I spent most of the rest of the afteroon and evening just hanging out under the pavilion, talking to people. One of the most interesting questions I've had for a long time came from ramblingheritic: How do you define "Peer Qualities?" Believe it or not, that isn't something I've put a lot of thought into. I think my modus operendi is to remember those Peers that I respect, and try to not make them embarrassed to admit that I'm a Peer too. Lord knows, I have strong feelings about how Peers should conduct themselves, especially Laurels, and especially in re judging competitions. Still, that's only part of the equation. And as I said earlier, I don't really think well on my feet, even when I'm sitting down. The best I could come up with included "grace under pressure," and "encouraging and supportive, especially when judging competitions." I also recalled an interview with an etiquette maven of yore who noted that good manners is making people feel comfortable, not making them aware of their etiquette shortcomings.
I do wonder sometimes why there seem to be so many Laurels that are so brusque. Does the artistic temperament mean that one is so focused on the art form of choice that one doesn't even think of other people's feelings? Balancing that, I recall some of the judges' comments that I have read-- not just on my competition entries but other people's, too. For all the bitching I've heard about comments that are rude or downright ugly, I have to say that a lot of times I didn't percieve the comments that way at all. In one example that will live in many memories forever, the judge asked "Have you looked at such-and-such a source?" which the recipient took to mean, "You idiot, have you EVEN LOOKED at this source?!" In this particular case, I had talked to the judge before the recipient saw the comment, (thus, the judge could not have been CYA-ing) and the judge was genuinely pleased to have been able to suggest a source that might be helpful. No negative connotations were intended at all. I explained this to the recipient. Nevertheless, the recipient, years later, is still utterly convinced that malice was intended.
Architecture school juries are a guaranteed inoculant against getting your feelings hurt too easily; if you are a delicate flower you tend to wash out very early on and change majors. I think sometimes, too, that I have a basically happy-go-lucky attitude and I don't just automatically assume malicious intent. Nope, you have to be pretty ugly and direct about it before I even notice, generally speaking. Which, I guess, is kind of a good thing. Makes life easier and much more pleasant. I'm such an ostrich.
Sadly, it's back to reality for me now. When I opened my email this morning, I had a note from the teacher of one my classes that starts on June 28; she's posted our syllabus and reading list for the five weeks of the session, along with a note saying that since the session is so short, she expects that we will have completed the first readings and be fully prepared to discuss during the first class. There are 2-4 chapters of the text plus 5-9 readings per session, with a total of about 200 pages of for each class. For each reading, we are to submit a "thoughtful" question, based on "thoughtful" reading, (her quotation marks) by noon the day before class. (Does this mean questions about something we don't understand, or questions that we might put on a test if we were teachers? Geez. I'm not that thoughtful.) Sigh. We also each have two- 20 minute presentations from the assigned readings, and each presentation is to be accompanied by handouts and/or AV materials. AND there's a 7-10 page paper due at the end of the class. Holy crap. No word yet on what the requirements for the other class will be. I'm glad I'll get two weeks off between class and Pennsic. Sadly, though, there's less than a week between the end of Pennsic and the beginning of the Fall semester.
I think I'd better go start reading... and rest up.