(no subject)

[lenora_rose]

So, the event happened.

Friday night felt like a not-much kind of night; we drove out with Ly. Eibhleann, who returned the favour by feeding us from a generous spread. We did a lot of meet and greet - mostly in-town people, though thirstysmurf appeared early, and Tarrach and Fina around the end of dinner (Hrodir showed up later still, and hey, he ended up in our cabin!). War court wasn't terribly new or exciting; the leather worker from Avacal attempted to start bardic early, not realising that the court was happening. Alas, he was no longer there by the time we did the handful of songs we did that night (I described my part as 2 1/2 songs because my voice died on the third, but it was a singalong type anyhow.) Nor when we got really going Sunday night. (By the way, vilashna, he says hi. Actually, he said that if he'd known beforehand that you and Lucky Bob were too broke to come, he'd have paid.)

Archery Saturday was slow starting, granting me a good opportunity to roam the beach, soak my legs, and make up for missing my usual nightly song-offering for the lake. Also, I got to watch some of the fencing again. I keep saying I need to get back into it. But that means armour.

Before the event, I failed to find my usual and favoured belt - so the presence of a leather merchant was a great boon! Colin bought me a purple one with knotwork pressed in. (For turquoise, I was covered by Cristina already).

The new shoot was kind of fun once it did start; they needed to fix some technical issues with the targets (three figures, represented by two litre bottles, standing in window frames -they tilted and spun around too easily) but the idea was entertaining. The wind also wasn't helping, as it liked to knock them down early.

And Iulianna was doing henna on anyone who asked; she made a peacock down my leg that is one of the best pieces i've seen her do, and I coddled it enough overnight (Knee socks that don't sag and don't cut off circulation. Loff.) to get really good even colour on all but the slightly blurred wingtips. Several people took pictures while it was still the henna proper; I've been urging colin to take one while the stain is still dark. I'll post one if he does. (A small girl, coincidentally named Gweneth, got a mini-version of same, and zandoria got lovely designs on both feet, one alas, a bit pale in the end result, the other very nicely coloured.

Anyhow; feast was excellent with one major exception; one of the types of bread had olive in it, and Colin didn't know before he ate some. (As did the soup, but we found out in time.) We've been spoiled; one person who knows Colin's allergies has cooked most of the last several feasts, and while he sent in a note this time, he sent it belatedly. There was more than enough food he could eat, and once he took an antihistamine he seemed okay. (It's a "too sick to move for two days" allergy, not an epi-pen level or a mild upset stomach level one.)

But OMG the scones... Sooo good. And someone brought a hazelnut creal liqueur of which one sip was not enough, though it was all I could in fairness have. And a berry cordial (which berry, I'm blanking on; not one of the standards). Plus we had mead everywhere, from three sources.

Then the clean-up, which was its usual mix of fun, frustration, stupid fragments of singing, and far too many pots. I opted to haul dirty dishes in and clean ones out and scrape things and gofer, which meant moving around a lot, which is relevant to why I ended in a bit of a bad mood. I usually prefer to stay and dry, but the drying seemed taken.

There was enough lightning on the horizon that they cancelled fire arrows for the time being, and I ended up spending much of the next while in our cabin, talking. Then realised I was late to the tower burning, and ended up over there to watch the last and most entertaining stretch. (For the last three years, Colin has built a tower of increasing complexity and size out of scrap wood, to use as a centrepiece to the bonfire. This one was slightly too big; the final collapse put way too many embers outside the fire pit for this pyromaniac.) I also learned I'd missed a fox sighting, to my deep regret. We did get cussed out by a raccoon getting smoked up one of the trees, though.

The evening passed with much booze and good company, and a very late visit to the beach to watch the lightning flicker across the lake. PRETTY.

Sunday's archery centrepiece was, of course, the water duel. Which is still one of the most fun 20-yard archery events EVER. (One of these years. Food colouring.)

I was out in the first round but I had some fun in the challenges after, and even won a few rounds. And of course, it's fun dumping them away afterwards to lug over to the fire.

Dinner was decent, and after an hour or so's hideaway to clear my head from "all socializing all the time", I did actual dancing. Amaryllis finally got to teach some of her stuff from out West, and Cristina taught a few relative newcomers a few pieces. Dance practices were mostly dead over the summer (The exception being when a former local was in town for effectively a single day). I'm thinking about going tonight, (I think marathoning the Serpent Prince will win out this week, but only because I'm expecting to be marathoning pottery from next week into April).

Then fire arrows, which I watched only in part, being sligthly arched out. besides, Colin was tending the bonfire alone. So I joined him, after some running about, and we, and many others, drank and sang into the wee hours. sun_in_her_hair and I did much of it, (Colin did two and a half, helping someone else with the lengthy but oft-performed "Rite of Passage", and many other people either sang along or threw in a single song or two). One last vanishment to the beach after that, interrupted in the third-last verse by three tipsy (but friendly) men desirous of curling up in the hollow just behind me. Since this isn't meant to be singing for an audience, I drifted another way to finish before I went and tumbled into bed.

Monday morning was pouring rain, and caused me to demonstrate some remarkable rain-god-like abilities. (The first time I left, the rain tripled about the moment the door closed behind me - I had the impression of stepping from a semi-sheltered porch into a downpour, even though there was no porch roof... the second time, it waited until i reached my destination to do the same trick, but at the end of my frantic charge back, the thunder cracked hard just as I swept in the door; much spoiled by me considering the timing, and keeling over.) But the rest was packing and home and lunch in town (In Winnipeg this time rather than Gimli, a break in tradition). (Also a break in tradition, no final visit to the beach. Daunted by that much rain, and its particular fondness for me. Good thing I did extra songs the other nights.)

And all done.

Except.

I'll be totally honest and say that the fact that Thrym appeared again, to sit on the kitchen porch and glower disapprovingly at the world (And later at the dance practice, but dance as a political thing I'm not touching. Been there, burned out on that.), was my first disappointment of the weekend. I tried for a long while to let it slide and be polite when I saw him, in remembrance of the kind of man he was before the bitterness enveloped him whole (I know, for example, what branwen owes him, and that in my very early years, he made earnest attempts to offer me useful advice), but my resources on that front seem to be failing. I am not as generous of spirit as I wish I could be, and he does spread his bitterness to those he still leads. I wish some of the others would come out of the kitchen more, and meet more of the newer members.

I also feel I have reason *not* to quietly efface him and my feelings this time. He badly upset a friend of mine this event, and he did it by, among other things, insulting a friend of hers, someone who used to be very much a part of his personal entourage, eager to listen to what he had to say and follow his word. I only wish I'd been sure enough about what was going on to speak up, but I was in and out of that room too much to be certain he was up to nastiness; the words I heard gave me bad impressions, but divorced of context, I couldn't tell how much was legit and how much my own doubt.

But that's a certain amount of the straw that broke the camel's back. If I'd heard he was badmouthing me, for instance, it would be business as usual. I can't say it wouldn't bother me, but I'm equipped to brush it off.

But this was attacking A) someone he hadn't met until now, and B) someone who is, or should be, someone he would protect and defend from defamation. (Not that the latter is entirely unusual, but the other times I've seen him run down ostensible friends, those friends were also thick-skinned. And I have attempted to call him on it, though not for years.) Wrong.

So I won't pretend he didn't bother me. He can glower at me; as far as glowers go, I'm bulletproof. But I'm going to call this one as I see it, instead of being politely quiet or mentioning only his entertaining moments.

Comments

[vilashna.livejournal.com]

Well, as it turns out, we probably would have ended up being able to afford coming since apparently our mortgage payments don't start until October. WTF? Not going to complain though. We still have lots of other stuff to pay for though, but weren't quite as broke as we thought. However my mom was visiting since it worked out well for everyone involved when we thought we couldn't go to the event, and mom was trying to book cheaper flights and those dates came up less expensive. THWARTED! :P