Dear Dear Diary
Sunday, June 29, 2008
 
Short notice be damned, this is another worthy cause.

It's for MS, and when I think of that terrible disease, I think of Kirby, who's MS has been upgraded to stage IV, and he's been recently handed the diagnosis of liver cancer. We aren't going to have him for terribly much longer, but he ain't dead yet. Look for MS rides in your neighborhood this time of year, and think about donating or riding or walking for your favorite cause. The exercise is good for your soul.

I have another new friend with MS, who I won't identify here yet. She hasn't said I could, so I won't. She's new to the disease and frankly scared, and not comfortable with talking about it. If you're inclined to positive thoughts or prayers, both she and Kirby and his family can use them.
 
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Saturday, June 28, 2008
 
Moonset at sunrise

Summer vacation for me has always been a bit of an oddness- balancing the husband's not wanting to go against his interest in Camp, balancing what I love about my family with what I don't, my love for the old place on the lake shore, and the quiet moments where I can often get some crafting and writing done. I want- sometimes very hard- to go back to those days when I had the attic bedroom tucked under the eaves, lit by candle stub, and writing on scraps with a badly sharpened pencil (whittled last year so the damp got in over the winter), listening to the mice scaper in the distance, the waves crashing on rock, and the rain on a tin roof. When I was younger, I wrote fearlessly and often, but inexperienced with reality and full of possibility. I'm older now, and I'm crippled perhaps by knowing too much- I fear not writing anything that isn't formulated and hasn't been written before, paralyzed by indecision, and hating sap that comes out of bookstores now. So my pen stays still, and I worry if that's a tragedy. I think about writing, about wanting to write, while I am there. I touch on who I have been, am, and may be while I sit on the shore and feel the wind in my face. Camp is the only place I have been every year of my life, and part of me would be lost if I didn't spend a day there. Da calls it my inheritance, but I'm pretty sure I won't be owning any of it, so I fret over my parents' mortality and vitality when I'm there. I remember them young. I remember his parents. I think of a five-year-old boy in the back bedroom scared by slamming door.
 
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Thursday, June 26, 2008
 
Puck of Pook's Hill by Rudyard Kipling is wasted on the young audience for which it was intended these days. I remember reading it as a teen and being totally confused, mainly because I didn't get half of the references - if that. I read it again last week, and I was pleased to recognize some of the poems this time.

I can now sing "We are the Little Folk, We", which I first heard as a song of rebellion in the SCA. Sung when a king did something the populace did not approve of, by an old knight in the back of the hall, and joined in, one voice at a time. And that king did not receive further service from his peers, neither the pelican the spirit of volunteerism, the knights to marshal and fight his wars, nor the laurels to craft his fine clothes or cook his fine feasts. Remember children, when you fight in the Grand Tournament to be king, you fight for the hearts and minds of the people, as surely as you fight for the honor of winning alone.

I read the story of Hadrian's Wall and now I have seen it and walked on Scottish soil, and studied why it was made and the change in Rome at that time - the story felt more real. Also, I understand more of King John and his Magna Carta, and the flow of gold in that time, so that story also resonates on such a deeper level. I have not seen anti-semitism with my own eyes in my time- but I have seen in the past in the Holocaust, and it's hard to understand it or see it as real, but through Puck, perhaps I see more of a glimmer.

But all this was lost on me in my childhood. And I do not think I could explain it to a child of 10 as pictured in the story. Woe our education in this country that such great works will fall by the wayside, neglected for tests and no real solid meat on the bones.
 
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Wednesday, June 25, 2008
 
 
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Tuesday, June 17, 2008
 


I started mum's kissmoose scarf last night. It's 100% silk, and I keep stopping to pet it. Oh silk! Why do you torment me so? I always feel terrible for the poor little worms that give us the silk and then die before we unwind it, spin it, and use it. But it's so soft and so strong and just yummy luxurious. I want to love it and use it, but I end up feeling terrible for the worms.
 
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Sunday, June 15, 2008
 
How do I explain what happened?

My shire (local SCA group) gifted me with a throne appropriate for contemplation in Vigil- a porcelain throne, that is. Complete with fuzzy green rugs.

A friend did my cloak- and beautifully and with humor.

A friend did a large banner for me.

A friend made me a clothestool and filled the pot with chocolate truffles.

A friend made pelican cookies with frogs on the beak.

A friend knit a pair of socks, came to the event and slaved the entire weekend like she's been in the SCA forever- for her first event ever.

More friends cooked for me.

More friends announced me into court and arranged for schtick- the Entourage marched in- but I found something to do, and didn't go. Now originally, this was supposed to be a joke, but then Zack introduced me to his friend who had never been to an event before and I sat down to tell him what was happening to me and what it meant, and it almost was a surprise when someone came to take me away, and it was easy for me to protest that I had Things To Do and Not Time For This!

Duchess Dorinda sent lovely words for me via Caryl that were heartwarming. Caryl simply declared me Perfect, and Shut up and sat down- and Caryl Does Not Shut Up but goes into little stories all the time. Yngvar spoke, and it was dramatic and kind, but it didn't sink in. Fridrkr spoke, and he talked of the the various offices I currently hold and have held and went on for some time. But the real winner was Aoife, playing the game of please stand up. Please stand, she said, if you are a member of my shire, for she has touched you with her service. Please stand, she said, if you are member of Region 5 where I am currently regional seneschal (think kind of like regional rep), and then, please stand if you have signed a waiver in AEthelmearc. Since everyone in the room signed a waiver to be there that day- *everyone* stood. The king bid me rise, and see them all, so I curtseyed to them all. Most of the rest was a blur- but when y husband put the cloak of rank on my shoulders, and dropped my staff into my lap, all I could feel was the love.

It was wonderful.

I am exhausted- two weeks of not enough sleep, a weekend of not enough liquid, and too hyper to notice allergic reactions- it wore me out. I will spring back slowly from this.
 
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Thursday, June 12, 2008
 
One of the joys of having a period between Writ and Vigil for the peerage ceremony like the Pelican is the contemplation of what got me to this point.

The first meeting I went to: I asked, Do you have a website? No, they said. Do we need one? I'll do one, I said. You'll see. Do you have a newsletter? No, they said. Do we need one? I'll do one, I said. You'll see. Do you have regular meetings where we can talk about A&S? Umm, you can have them here.

I hit the ground running. I breathed in, enjoyment.

My first Court and my first King, with Yngvar flirting with me and my bosom, and getting my AoA. My confusion if that actually was an AoA or not. The scroll said "bestow her arms" and then I was called out on a mailing list if I actually got an award or not... so I felt odd calling myself Lady. Still do.

Thinking of the first event for which I was autocrat- in charge. Any problems were my fault by default. The fact it was Crown Tourney didn't help- nor the fact we did it with 4 people plus the kitchen.

Thinking of the next Crown I autocratted and falling down the stairs- my hips still pop out of joint now and then.

Thinking of Jazz in the Queen's Guard and Briant watching Kenya while we were gone. Missing Briant after her move. Missing Kenya after her death this year.

And oh the friends I have made! I can't name them all. It is simply lovely that Diedre the Hidden made my cloak for me, with THL Maria helping with the fabric costs for it, and Mariana is making my banner and Eoghan my banner pole, and Malcolum will Herald me in, and Keran helped me with the dress- the weight of all these friendships will weigh heavy on my shoulders when that cloak finally goes on my shoulders. I would not and could not be who I am and where I am without them- and I will be wrapped in their love for me. It just means so much.
 
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Wednesday, June 11, 2008
 
What I'm wearing Saturday...
Undies: Done, complete with drawstring.
Shift: Needs neckline and cuffs.
Corset: Done, but the ties ought to be attached so I don't forget them.
Socks: A bit on the large size. Never trust a gauge swatch knit whilst chatting. Bring string to tie on.
Farthingale (hoops): Borrowed. Aired out and dry.
Bum roll: Done.
Bodice: Lacing holes need to be finished. Shoulder straps need tacking in the back.
Underskirt: Need hook & eye sewn on.
Overskirt: Need to sew to waistband, and hem. Hem partially done. Is pinned at waist.
Sleeves: May say Fuck Sleeves at this point.
Snood: Done.
Cloak: Done. Future project: Rework the linen device in wool.
Shoes: Get out and check if I need to re-glue the soles again.

Also:
Need to prepare clothing for parental units and Jakys, and Twiggi.
Jakys will probably need a new doublet.
 
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Tuesday, June 10, 2008
 
What I'm wearing Saturday...
Undies: Done, complete with drawstring.
Shift: Needs neckline, cuffs, and hem.
Corset: Done, but the ties ought to be attached so I don't forget them.
Socks: Trying on a sock tonight. Otherwise, status unknown.
Farthingale (hoops): Borrowed. Aired out and dry.
Bum roll: Done.
Bodice: Basted. Will try on and do final fitting today.
Underskirt: Need hook & eye or button holes to tie. Need hem sewn, although it is marked.
Overskirt: Need to sew to waistband, and hem.
Sleeves: May say Fuck Sleeves at this point.
Snood: In progress.
Cloak: Done. Future project: Rework the linen device in wool.
Shoes: Get out and check if I need to re-glue the soles again.

Also:
Need to prepare clothing for parental units and Jakys, and Twiggi.
Jakys will probably need a new doublet.
 
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Monday, June 09, 2008
 
 
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Calling the vet inna few minutes for Miss Sassy's sake. She has another loose canine. :(
 
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Sunday, June 08, 2008
 
Dear New York State Senator Tom Libous:
Dear New York State Assemblywoman Donna A. Lupardo:

I am writing to request your support in passing legislation being introduced by Senator Elizabeth “Betty” Little and Assemblywoman Teresa Sayward to correct the injustices and conflicting title claims in Township 40 in Hamilton County. Please contact their staff with any questions you have on the legislation per se.

I am directly affected by the practices of the State of New York during the 1800’s that have led to the current “contested title” situations of today. Some New York State Court of Appeals holdings:

· During the 1800s New York State conducted numerous illegal tax sales involving the entire township. [The comptroller directed no taxes be paid, then conducted a tax sale since taxes hadn’t been paid. The current owners were not allowed to pay taxes due, and were physically barred from attending the tax sales.]

· None of the proceeds of several of the tax sales were entered into the accounts of the state.

· In 1896, the State of New York had legal title to NO land in Township 40. [In 1896 the State was gifted 1000 un-surveyed acres by Dr. Webb.]

· After each tax sale the purchaser subdivided the township, often selling the same land multiple times. [Sometimes the new purchaser sold the same plot to different people at different times.]

Many title extracts go back before the existence of the State of New York, but because of the multiple sales the title chain is confusing (to say the least). This issue has been festering for 175+ years since the first tax sale about 1832.

Raquette Lake has approximately 135 voters with a median income of $25,000 to $30,000 a year. The really rich folks sued NYS years ago and have clear title. Interestingly enough, SUNY Cortland is the largest land owner with over 200 acres of ‘contested land’.

Senator Little and Assemblywoman Sayward and their staffs and supporters have spend hundreds of hours determining the history of every current taxpayer’s property in the Township. They also have spent hundreds of hours negotiating with the AG’s office, DEC, environmental groups and the Governor’s office to reach a workable solution to the problem.

Raquette Lake is not totally unique. The extent of the collusion is unique. There are several other areas that have ‘title issues’ and the best solution is to amend the constitution to allow NYS to resolve these claims within the forest preserve currently prohibited by Article 14.

Sincerely yours,

georg
 
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Friday, June 06, 2008
 
Nothing quite says you're fucked like a broken sewing machine.
 
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Thursday, June 05, 2008
 


Corset mostly done- I just need to finish all the eyelets. Today, the bodice.
 
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Wednesday, June 04, 2008
 
Shift is 70% done. Underwear is done.

Today, the Corset.
 
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Monday, June 02, 2008
 
Jazz doesn't appreciate it when your only answer is a bark.

Woof!

Nothing is sewn by me yet, but I have the sewing room ready and all of the fabric washed. And THL Maria is lending me her farthingale and bum pad, so that's two things I don't have to make - and I've never made a fathingale before, so I was a bit worried on how.
 
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Over here at the moment, we're enjoying a bit of chaos. I've been summoned to appear in less than two weeks to answer if I would join the order of the Pelican. Saturday was spent on initial plans. Sunday I wrote letters asking those who would speak for me and have heard from almost all of them with terribly flattering words. I'm not used to such praise. Yesterday was also all about the organization. I've delegated several items that are needed- from the banner pole, the banner itself, and the Cloak.

All I have to do now is the Outfit for me to wear. My persona is 1525 English, which means Tudor. Shift, corset, farthingale (hoop skirt), underskirt, skirt, bodice, and sleeves. I have the fabric (thank the gods!) and the patterns. But that's an awfully short notice to make that many clothes! Pattern reading material is done. Now to clean the sewing machine so I can set up the Big Table and sew.

Today is also my shopping day. So I've got to get all the little things that will help a great deal.
 
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This rather schizophrenic blog was started as a fictional blog, written by a character of a story. I've since taken it over for writing personal stuff I don't mind sharing with anyone who cares. I am also writing thoughts about writing and stories that move me.


Other places I go:
Georg's Research
Help local kitties
I have relatives. Be afraid
Blessed is the One True Tami
Tata the Bodacious
Obligatory Yarn Harlot
It is impossible not to love Sandi Wiseheart once you've met her
The Tsarina
Holiday Yarns
Habetrot
I like the name Twiggi
Who to blame for my sock addiction
Maybe the cleverest blog title
Romancing the Yarn
Why I read Romancing the Yarn
Get an ab work out with laughter
My Kitty Obsession
Kittehs
You meet the nicest people playing video games
I'm such a fanboi
Rabbitch
One of my stalker targets
The other stalkee
I just love Josh (the cat)
Josh the Cat and friends
Pet politics
Pet Care
If I were a sheep, I'd be Delores
I live here now
Not Your Mama's Crafters
Make a Lily Pad


Anything not marked might be just me, Georg, posting as myself.

It's just this blog, okay? Some of it is story. Some of it is animals. Some of it is knitting. It's a blog.

For story #1, I do recommend starting from the beginning of this blog if you haven't read this before. Please start at the beginning.

I did mean it to be for http://www.nanowrimo.org - but I never got quite got it done under the wire.

CAST:
Jeannie is the author/main character.
Frank is her husband. Poor man.
Tony is musician/singer.
Angie is a teenager, who was Jeannie's best friend. Now currently dead.
Honestly, there is no connection between Jeannie and me and Frank and my husband.

Story #2
Frank and Ether. This will be much weirder than Frank and Jeannie. I like the name Frank. No one expects a Frank to lie.

Story #3
A desert story. Anna is the main character. Currently there is only her little brother and an old servant, and a mysterious redhead.

Story #4
The necro story. A young necromancer heads off to the Hated Ones to find her trousseau.

Story X
Reserving this for one-offs, poems, etc.


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Marriage is love.

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