It feels good to be a Lady

Last night was my husband’s first SCA feast as Feast Steward, and it went amazingly well! The food turned out great, and everyone enjoyed it.

I spent a majority of the time sitting at the table because of das boot. I did get up a few times, though, most notably for the Order of Precedence procession and *drum roll please* my Award of Arms! My husband got his as well, so now we are Lord and Lady. šŸ™‚ I gotta admit, I teared up a little when Her Majesty was going over her speech about why she was giving me the award.

My husband and I are apparently unusually active in the Society for as new as we are, so our AoA was presented fairly early on, for our kingdom at least. Some people play for years and years before getting their AoA, but we’ve only been playing since March. We have taken on a lot in that short time though, such as our Baronial officer positions, the Queen’s Guard, and of course his feast stewarding.

I never thought I’d be so happy with such a seemingly little thing. “Lady.” It’s kinda cool. It feels good to be recognized for the hard work I’ve done. Sure, I get thanks all the time, but this is something I can take and frame and look at as a reminder when I start feeling like I’m not appreciated or recognized.

Our scrolls turned out pretty cool too; they’re even coordinated. Check it out:

Those birds are freaking cute!

The next big thing for us will be Estrella War. It’s the biggest war in our kingdom and I think one of the biggest in the SCA. My husband has been to a couple of Estrella Wars, but this will be my first. It should be interesting. I’ll be getting my Oleander, another award (one that’s given to all female fighters their first time on the Estrella battlefield) there. I’ve been making the belt favors for it to help out.

The other highlight of the event last night (for me at least) was the response to the garb I worked so hard on. Everyone loved the gown I wore and apparently they loved my husband’s garb as well. I didn’t get a picture of him in his outfit, but here’s my dress:

I had a lot of help, but I’m still proud of how it turned out. It was pretty comfortable. I still have tweaks I want to do to it, like making detachable sleeves, but it was completed and that’s what matters.

Now we’re off to Star Wars! A good treat after all that hard work.

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Hanging by a thread

It’s almost here: the Yule feast that my husband’s in charge of cooking. The theme (which you may recall if you follow this blog) is Italian Renaissance. As Viking personas, we had no Italian Ren garb. None. So I’ve been scrambling to make two full outfits.

Did I mention I have no clue how to make period-accurate Italian Ren garb? Yeah. There’s that. I had patterns for my husband’s clothes (which, being “costume” patterns and not “historical” patterns, are not quite period-accurate either), but I needed aĀ lot of help with my garments. Thankfully there are some really kind, really helpful ladies in our barony who were willing to give me their time and attention so I could be properly attired.

I’ve still got a few things to finish, but with (hopefully) a half day at work today, IĀ should be able to finish everything in time. I have to:

  • re-sew the snaps on the stomacher of my dress because the dress ended up needing to be taken in a bit more (yay!)
  • add the buttons to my husband’s pants (and the belt loops he requested for extra security; not “period,” but they’ll keep the pants up lol)
  • finish the sleeves, collar, and hem on his shirt
  • add as much fancy trim as I have time to slap on there
  • iron the damn things

Once the sewing and ironing are done, I have to bust my butt to clean up the craft room and transform it into a guest room again. I have accumulated quite a bit more fabric since the last time I cleaned/straightened in there, so it looks like a trip to Wal-Mart or some such place is in my future so I can get more storage for all that crap. Then, once our guest is gone, I have to bring things back out again so I canĀ try to get the one Christmas present I plan on sewing done before the holiday. I doubt I’ll be able to, though, and it makes me feel bad. I know I had a lot going on lately–sickness, injury (oh yeah, forgot to mention: I broke another bone on my foot back at the last war event), work, and garb–but that doesn’t stop the guilt from eating at me.

That’s not all in the sewing department; I have gifts for the women who helped me, a tournament prize, more garb (with a February deadline this time–easier Viking stuff), and assorted odds and ends that I want to make. Seriously, I have a list. Typed up. Because I’m a nerd.

Why am I typing this instead of cranking out garb? Well, I’ve gotten to a step that I can potentially skip, but I need to wait for my husband to wake up so I can ask him if he minds if I omit the step. He’s been stressed enough about the event, though, so I’ll let him sleep. I can find other things to do until then.

But as soon as he’s up and has made a decision, it’s back to the grind.

Silent outreach

Hey

I’m here

I wanted to say hi

And I kinda want to talk

But I don’t have anything to say

There’s nothing new with me

No news

No excitement

Just plain old boring old me

But I kinda want to talk

I want to ask what’s up with you

But I don’t want to bother you

You’ve probably got stuff going on

News

Excitement

You know… stuff

I wish I had something to say

Some reason to talk

But there’s nothing new

Just plain me

Boring me

Just me

The Neverending Story

It had to happen sometime…just wish it wasn’t now. I’m talking about getting sick. Yeah, the Humira is doing its job–or else this is a convenient coincidence. Right now, I’m expectorating an inordinate amount of mucus at an alarming rate. My nose is raw, I can barely breathe, and I’m coughing almost nonstop. Honestly, I don’t know how my husband can sleep through all of it.

This is a terrible time of year to be sick. I have the Yule garments to finish (all of them are at least started, with one finished, one nearly finished, one halfway finished, and one mostly cut out), Oleanders to stitch, work to do, and more. I. Can’t. Be. Sick. But I am. I’ve got a nasty head cold, and it’s damn frustrating. If I push every afternoon leading up to Yule I can get the sewing done, though, provided I don’t have to wear a freakin’ fracture boot for weeks on end again.

Yeah, the foot’s still hurting. It’s especially worse this morning since IĀ didn’t wear the fracture boot at all yesterday. No, my fool self felt I was good enough to work a half day without the boot and then continue into the evening without it because I had sewing to do. I see the doctor this afternoon, though, thanks to my wonderful boss who is going to cover for me in the surgery department so I can go to my appointment. Otherwise, I would’ve had to wait another week and change to get in.

I’m not gonna lie–even if I am told to wear the boot, I’m going to get the sewing done, one way or the other. Okay, I might lie….to the doctor. Let him think I’m going to have someone else man the sewing machine while I sit and elevate the ol’ footsie. As a wise old woman once said:

aintnobodygottimeforthatgif

On the outside looking in

I’m so very, very glad that I’m not in charge of anything important right now. 

The past several months I have watched as people get frantic, frustrated, and furious over the planning and execution of various events. My conclusion as an outside observer? None for me, thanks. Whole lotta nope.

It’s more than little hiccups. It’s more than speed bumps along the way. It’s a full-on train wreck. Sometimes it’s just that life has different plans, but sometimes it’s…”operator error.” In other words, the cluster stems from human nature. Whether it’s disorganization, miscommunication, or just plain laziness, the humanity factor can really jack even the best laid plans.

I will admit that I don’t know the whole story for all of these things. Like I said, I’m viewing as an outsider. There are behind-the-scenes happenings that I’m not privy to. Still, the little that I do know is enough to turn me off to the notion of taking part in any of this type of responsibility in the future. What kind of nut job voluntarily takes this crap on?

Not this nut job. No siree. Until I see one of these things going smoothly without drama or chaos, I’m going to stay at the sidelines and dodge the cannon fire.

Crunch of a different kind

Anyone who has read this blog for a decent amount of time may be familiar with my recurrent Con Crunch–the time when a convention nears and you’re scrambling to finish your cosplays in time. One could almost say I have chronic Con Crunch, or Triple C. No matter how much I try to plan, I never seem to be able to get my costumes done without a last-minute scramble.

The SCA has proven to be no different. I seem to always be in that Crunchtime zone where I worry that I won’t finish the garment(s) before the event I’m making them for. Prime example: the Italian Renaissance-themed Yule event that’s in less than two weeks. I have my camica done, my outer dress mostly done (still need to hem it and adjust a couple things due to my recent weight loss), and my husband’s pants mostly done. I still need to make his shirt and doublet, though, and–if there’s time–an underskirt for the dress. Since I made mockups of the shirt and doublet, I know it won’t take too terrible long to get them done once I have a chance to justĀ focus, but I have one little problem…

I think my right foot has somehow gotten re-injured. Like, it’s hurting bad enough I worry that it might have becomeĀ re-broken.Ā Seriously, the only thing that helps for any length of time is to wear the stupid fracture boot that I got from the podiatrist this past February when I first broke it. Here’s a photo of the x-ray for reference:

broken-foot

Yeah, that circled part is the nice little break with the nice little chunk of bone was taken off. According to the podiatrist it was pretty much healed after a few weeks in the boot, and he told me I didn’t really have any restrictions. Cool beans, right?

Well, that “crushing” fracture (as the doctor diagnosed it; to this day I still have no clue how it happened) has been increasingly painful since I decided to wear my medieval period shoes for a couple of days at a recent event. Now, I’ve got gel insoles in them, but they’re not memory foam like my beloved Sketchers–which I ended up changing into for the remainder of the event after the medieval shoes started making my right foot hurt. Or at least that’s what I thought was the cause…now I’m not so sure.

Did I take a wonky step in those shoes and not notice? Knowing me it’s entirely possible, but it’s also possible that there’s something else going on. Something less sucky, perhaps? Regardless, I won’t know until I see the podiatrist again in a couple of weeks. Lucky me didn’t have enough openings at work to be able to get in any sooner. So it’s been over three weeks of moderate to severe pain in my right foot, with another two to go.

Oh, yeah, and I also have trouble controlling the sewing machine pedal with my left foot. So there’s that adding to the already stressful #currentmiddleages crunch. Yeah, no, let’s not use that term again. The alliteration is all well and good, but it feels a bit forced. Costume Crunch? That could work. The garb is essentially medieval costumes, after all.

Fingers crossed that there’s not a bone crunch mixed in with this Costume Crunch. I won’t find out until after the Yule event, so I have to suffer for a little longer.

Speaking of crunches, I suppose I should get cracking on the shirt and/or doublet.

Except this boot is keeping the pain at bay.

Damned if I do, damned if I don’t.

Help! Help! I’m being suppressed!

*insert Monty Python gif here*

Well, good ol’ Arthur has gotten me again. Arthur-itis, that is. Yep, my rheumatologist started me on a biologic immunosuppressant today. I get to give myself a shot every two weeks. Yay. Not.

It’s not that I mind getting shots, or even giving them to myself. Whatever. A second of burning, a couple minutes of discomfort, and it’s done for the next two weeks. What annoys me is that it’s yet another medicine in a long list of meds. An expensive one. Sheesh. Couldn’t she at least take away one of the other ones while she was at it?

Can’t deny that it’s more than a little depressing. I’m not even 40 for crying out loud! There are 90-something-year-old patients at work who take fewer meds than I do.

Here’s hoping it helps at least.