Going Home

The day after we got back from June Crown, I got a call from Springfield, Illinois from the facility my handicapped brother lives in. It was the call I'd been dreading for years, and suddenly every one of those years of separation weighed heavily on me.
My brother has Down Syndrome, and was born with a heart defect that was considered inoperable at the time. All during our childhood, he never got any taller than 4'6" and never weighed more than 90 lbs. This was largely because of the heart condition, and his difficulty with chewing food. My parents doted on him, and having been told that he would not live to be very old, they figured they'd let him do pretty much whatever he wanted to do. So, he lived on hot dogs, applesauce, pudding, mashed potatoes, occasionally creamed corn or spinach, and ice cream. Lots of ice cream. And he drank strawberry Quick, which we all called "Silly Rabbit" because of the trademarked bunny that hawked this product.
He was fascinated with dogs and dinosaurs, and learned to identify almost every breed and species of same. He enjoyed listening to an extensive collection of LP's (ask your grandma to explain that to you) of Alvin and the Chipmunks. And he spent hours coloring. My most enduring memory of him will always be of him sitting on his bed, hunched over a coloring book, coloring away frantically and energetically.
My brother is Peter Pan. But I'm Wendy. Maybe that's why that particular story has always seemed so sad to me. I grew up, and married, and had kids, and moved away from Illinois.
My brother kept coloring.
My mother made the very hard and very brave decision to place him in a residential care facility after she fell down the basement stairs and twisted her ankle. She realized she wasn't getting younger, and she worried what would have happened if the injury had been more severe. Would Jody have been able to call for help? Or would he have colored away, oblivious to food and drink, until he passed out from dehydration? She cried every single day, sometimes more than once a day, for the next 3 years. I used to plead with her to just go get Jody and bring him home, and not worry, because I would take care of him if she couldn't. But she knew better than that.
She wanted me to have as normal a life as I could, and I'm very grateful today for that decision.

So, my brother has lived with the Franciscans in Springfield for nearly 30 years now. Amazing.
And the head nurse called, and they were very worried that he was complaining of not being able to swallow without pain, and he ended up dehydrated, and had to be hospitalized and given IV fluid. They discovered that his heart is now 3 times normal size, which is not good because bigger means weaker in this case. He also has arthritis in his hips, not unusual considering he also was born with abnormal hip sockets and a tendency for his hips to dislocate. He used to walk with a swaying, stiff-legged gait. My Dad called him "Wiggle Butt". He no longer walks, due to the discomfort mostly. During the time he has lived with the Franciscans, he put on weight, because unlike my parents they actually expected him to eat somewhat normally and would not let him have ice cream unless he finished his meal first. He gradually gained weight over the 12 years that my husband and I lived in Illinois, and we took him home for all the holidays and his birthday, and some other weekends. My kids grew up with him as a frequent, eccentric repeating character in their lives. He did his best to present an authoritarian persona to them, which we all found very amusing since it was rather like being lectured by an elf. But now, he just isn't able to eat that regular food; it gags him and he throws it up. So, he's gone back to his preferred diet after 30 years, and he's shrunk back down to about 80 lbs.
His doctor says there is nothing to be done. Feeding tubes would just cause a fluid imbalance that would stress his heart, as would IV's. The facility called to let me know he is fading away.
For 12 years, we had him in our home for a great deal of the time. After moving to California, he came to visit 2 times, bringing oxygen with him. Finally, one of the doctors said he should not fly any longer due to the cardiac condition. Since we have no living family in Illinois any longer, and since Jody usually is good for about an hour of chat before ignoring you in favor of coloring, it seemed wildly extravagant to fly out to spend part of an afternoon with my brother. I'd also have to rent a car, and book a hotel room for 2 days -- just to spend a couple hours. There were so many other things to spend that money on, when you have 4 kids and 7 grandkids. And like so many other people, I seemed to believe that time was not passing. I had actually asked for 2 weeks in August, planning on going back and visiting with Jody and maybe spending a couple days in St. Louis and a couple more days dragging Miach around Central Illinois to my childhood memories. But the facility did not react with enthusiasm when I reported this plan to them, so I thought about it.
I called my work on Tuesday following Crown, and told my supervisor that I would need to take the next week off. I looked into tickets, realizing that I'd have to pay for 2 seats on the airplane, because I've gotten so damn fat that squeezing into one seat has been torture for years and flying is such misery anyway ---why not at least buy myself some room? And then it occurred to me to look into Amtrak.
I ended up spending less on the entire trip, including car rental, hotel room for 2 nights, and meals than I would have spent on the tickets alone to fly. And I was relatively comfortable. It was also easier on my spirit, allowing me to make the transition emotionally as well as physically from California to Illinois.
My brother looked the same to me as he did the last time I saw him, nearly 12 years ago. Although I noticed that in the pictures I took, he looked like a little middle-aged elf. And I know I look older to him. He kept talking about "my other sister" -- you know, the young one he last saw 12 years ago.
He visited with me for 8 hours. And he ate an entire container of sherbet, and drank a whole glass of cranberry juice. The hospice nurse came and admitted him into the hospice program, and I signed the papers. On Monday, the hospice chaplain called me and offered support, and we discussed whether Jody would like to talk to him.
I didn't mention that besides coloring, his next most favorite activity is talking about every person or animal that he has known who has died. This started with my father's death, and we all thought he'd get it out of his system within a few months, but he never did. And as the years went by, he added my mother and various dogs and cats, and then men who died at the facility. He would talk endlessly about them.
A great deal of our visit was spent in him talking about our dog, Freckles, who had snapped at him because of pain, and had eventually been put to sleep. He would bring this incident up over and over. He also brought up my father becoming impatient with him and demanding he pick up his toys at some point in time.
He doesn't realize it, but he's led a blessed life if these are the two harshest memories that he has -- which they evidently are.
The folks at the facility were very supportive, and they reassured me that Jody has lived there for 30 years and it is now his home. Several of them told me they loved him. I cried, and Jody comforted me. We agreed to use Web video and Skype to talk with Jody, which hopefully will work out better than just voice phone. He has a tendency to zone out while on the phone, and often shakes or nods his head instead of answering. At least this way, we can see him and get some non-verbal cues.
I don't know where this summer will lead us. His heart could suddenly give out, or he could live on ice cream for God knows how long. I will eventually have to fly back, but I am grateful for the train trip this summer, and the sense it gave me of place and time.
The picture is of the Amtrak station in Springfield, Illinois, which smelled like my grandfather: pipe smoke and dust.

The Roundhouse Goes to Crown

Here is what the Roundhouse ended up looking like. We are well pleased with it. In the picture on the left, on the left margin, you can see the dog pen. If we had to put it inside, it would easily fit -- but we don't have to, because the dogs can no longer burrow out from under the tent walls. The walls and floor are sewn together, which makes me happy I chose this option, having completely forgotten the dogs and thinking only of rain and ease of erecting the tent. I'd guess it gives us about twice the space of our old pavilion. We had our bed set up in about 1/4th of the ground space. Miach put up his clothes rack in the middle, which also acted as a privacy screen for our sleeping area. We put our chests and storage boxes and the armor bag around the periphery. We still had a large area of unfilled space. The rug we brought, that had covered half the floor of the pavilion, covered about 1/4 the floor. (Which reminds me, I need to scrub the carpets and let them dry. Weather will be good for that this Sunday and for the next few days. They'll disinfect in sunshine.)
The tent went up easily, and one person could easily do it in about 1/2 hour or slightly less if they're good with a mallet. It is possible for one person to tote the tent, in bag, for a short distance. There was as much cross circulation as one could hope for, and the windows were well spaced for this; the vents also seemed to allow hot air to escape. I suspect that had we held June Crown in the Valley again, instead of near the Coast, we would have been hot but we were hot in the pavilion last Crown, too. For people that don't mind the extra work lining up tent and groundcloth, and who don't mind periods of little privacy sacrificed for greater comfort, the removable/roll up sides would be the better option in hot, dry climates, I think.
All in all, we are very pleased with this tent, and with our conversion of it into a Roundhouse. We are looking forward to using it frequently, and perhaps painting some more designs onto it. I am still planning on ogham letters listing our names over the door, and if I get real creative, maybe around the lower margin of the roof where the ropes are attached.

The tent arrived several days ago, and we put it up as best we could on our very inclined front yard yesterday. We took the dogs out and put them in their enclosure, and made an event of it. We ran out of yard. We could only stake it down on 2 sides, really. It went up easily enough. Hardest thing about it was pounding in the stakes -- there are a lot of them, and while they're not plastic and not the flimsiest metal I've seen, they also ended up bending on a couple of roots or rocks. We might have to take our iron stakes.
The canvas isn't as heavy as our Regent pavilion, but that's ok -- it's sturdy enough. We did stir up some excitement in the 'hood: a little kid was screaming "What is that thing?!" while his dad was walking him around our corner. Miach kept insisting it wasn't any bigger than our current tent, but it sure seems a lot bigger to me. Now that we've put it up and can see how low the walls are, I'm thinking we'll just stick with our air mattress. I'd go with a futon, but that would add another heavy thing for us to carry in/out of camp. We'll see, I suppose.

The big aggravation is that I just spent my entire Sunday making HUGE stencils. My neck, knees and back are aching from so much time tracing and cutting. Everything was working really well, too. I had discovered that you can use freezer paper to make iron-on stencils, which you can then peel off once the paint has dried. So, I figured I'd need 4 big heads, 8 large triskeles and 8 knotwork panels. Miach enlarged the knotwork and triskeles for me, each one about the size of 4 sheets of regular printer paper. I then fitted them together and laid a piece of the freezer paper (plastic side down) over them, and was easily able to trace the design --which I then re-traced for the number of stencils needed, and then cut out. It took HOURS. The sample stencil worked like a charm during the test on the canvas tent bag.
They did not work on the actual tent, however. My theory is that the waterproofing agent on the canvas works so well that the plastic on the freezer paper can't be stuck (using a very warm iron) onto it. It just won't adhere.
So, I drew the Celtic Heads on freehand, and I'll make an actual hard stencil of the knotwork and triskeles tomorrow. Hopefully.
Miach keeps saying we need to do this when the tent is up, but I don't think we can on the roof. The pitch is too severe, even if we got a ladder. And it would require us hauling PAINTING SUPPLIES on top of everything else, so no way.

On the right is a Roundhouse, a housing design that has actually been used in many cultures and times (including currently in parts of Africa, I believe). This one is a Celtic one, on display in the U.K.
I've always been fascinated by these dwellings, largely because my persona and my true heart is early period and tribal. From the time I was a kid, I've been studying ways to survive in the wild or at least without modern conveniences. As I've gotten older, I really appreciate those conveniences, let me add! The Roundhouse is a great design. It uses wattle and daub for the low walls, and the roof is thatch. There is no smoke hole in the roof, because modern reconstructionists have proven by trial and extreme error, that this would tend to draw a strong enough draft to set the whole roof on fire. Instead, the extremely high pitch of the roof allows smoke to collect away from the lower living area, and to dissipate through the thatch. Neat, huh?
The roof is very heavy, so there are fairly thick posts incorporated into the wall structure to support it. There is no central beam, but there is an inner ring of heavy timbers to help support the roof.
Many of these would be clustered together and surrounded by a periphery stockade, and there was usually one gigantic roundhouse in the complex that might have been the Chieftain's house or a meeting area. These stockades were usually situated on hills or sometimes on either natural or man-made islands in lakes.
On the left is a modern canvas tent, a modified Sibley design. It is sold in the U.S. out of Austin, TX, but the mother company is a U.K. company. There are other companies selling this same model, but they're more expensive. However, they also offer more accessories .

A pavilion is probably one of the two most expensive things that you will aspire to obtain as a Scadian, the other being for some people or families, a set of armor and a helm. There are factors beyond cost in considering a pavilion, and a big one is ease of set-up. True reconstructionists, and there are many in the SCA, will not be happy with anything less than the most authentic pavilion that they can afford to purchase or to make themselves.
Miach and I were going to go the "make it ourselves" option to replace our current Regent tent from Panther Primitives because the main reason we're replacing it was to get more space, and when we looked at the cost of buying a pre-fab for the size we wanted, the value just wasn't there. Making it ourselves would bring the cost down to where we could afford it; and of course it then would add another massive project to a growing list of projects that we are already way behind on. Plus, in this case, it involved depending in some way on assistance from others with experience of making tents, and while we have people who say they will do this they are unable to meet our timeline in getting it done and frankly -- when you're doing something out of the goodness of your heart, why should timelines even be in the picture?? But we were really hoping to have more space sometime this tournament season, which is about half over now.

So, after having researched the whole thing, purchased the ultimate sourcebook on it, shopped for various canvas types and treatments, pondered the requirements for "ripping" poles from lumber, and obtaining an old metal geared sewing machine for the job............I found this gorgeous tent while messing around on the Web. And my first thought was "Bingo! Celtic Roundhouse!" and my second thought was "Holy crap, they are asking for less $$ than we were going to spend making the pavilion. And we don't have to do anything. And it will be here by June Crown." At which point, I was sure Miach wouldn't approve, so I didn't say anything and I researched the new tent for a couple of days, finding alternate sources and other companies that made Sibley-styles and comparing them. I even plotted out the groundspace of the tent, and tried to visualize if it would be large enough. One would think that two people and two small dogs and their assorted stuff would fit into the Regency 12 x 12 that we currently have, but we are very crowded. Part of this is that we have to set up a small pen inside for the dogs, and Miach's armor bag is the size of another whole person. I ended up showing my findings to Miach, who surprised me by being very enthusiastic. At which point, really, it was a done deal for us. I gave it an additional 24 hours and also asked for some advice from the SCA Tentmaking group on whether this would be acceptably SCA-ish. I can tell you that for strict reconstructionists, none of which evidently monitor the SCA Tentmaking group, it will not be. A Sibley tent is a mid-1800's tent. Plus, this one has an aluminum center pole and A-frame on the door and it has synthetic ropes. I suspect that the stakes will be hard plastic, and we'll probably contract with a blacksmith for some iron stakes. But for ease of set-up and our budget, I'm willing to go with a collapsable aluminum center pole and door frame, both of which are nearly entirely hidden from view. I may live to regret this decision if the tent is not as durable as I would expect it to be, or if it is a lot more difficult to erect than everyone who has reviewed it says it is.
I am also looking into camp cots. We currently sleep on an air mattress on the ground, but I have been inside several "period" tents that have cots, entirely hidden by bedclothes. The alternative is a relatively simple platform bed which can be broken down and transported, but it is still going to be heavier and require tools that we do not have to make one. We aren't woodworkers, thank God. And it looks like we're not tent-makers, either, again thank God. We don't have enough time currently, despite having a lot of time, to do the things we enjoy and to complete projects we have bought materials for.
We still have a box of combat arrow components that we've had for over 4 years. I have a bow that needs to be strung and have a grip and ledge applied. I have armor that needs to be rigged.
A wonderful tapestry that needs to be backed and tabs placed on it for hanging. Silk that needs to be made into banners. Cloth that needs to be made into clothing. Wax tablets that need styli.
And inside my noggin, a plan for a map to be drawn on a piece of leather. And the neck coolers that I promised Their Highnesses I'd have done 2 weeks ago.


Painting the tent will be much easier than making it from scratch, so hopefully we will get it together enough to paint it so that it really is impressive for June Crown and looks as close to being Medieval as possible. I will write an update and post some actual pictures of the actual tent when I can.

Miach is just beginning to feel normal after a virus that kicked his arse struck about 3 weeks ago. He decided to forego the Mists/Cynagua War , which was a wise decision which I am astonished that he made. I might be traveling to the War if needed to attend Their Highnessess. Messages might arrive late today. I'm hoping that they will have Saturday covered, which is the only day I can make the journey, since I worked today and Sunday is Mother's Day.
Pending projects: neck coolers for Cynagua, styli for the wax tablets that I've completed, tapestry wall hanging, silk banners, and replacement chair for the West Kingdom Heralds which I broke last year.
And the fitted dress, which I do have the pattern cut for (cotehardie). And the new Pavilion, which hopefully Medb will be working on soon.
I'm already thinking way ahead, 2 years out, when the Matrix (small modern car) will be paid off and we can afford another car payment. I'm thinking cargo van...

I drove up the mountain and picked up an ancient Sears Kenmore cabinet sewing machine. It was supposed to work, but when I got there the gentleman who had it confessed that only the light works and he's not sure why. I figured, what the heck, and threw it in the Matrix and twisted down the mountain. I might try taking it apart and seeing if it's gummed up, etc. These old machines are supposed to work well for sewing canvas tents, as their gears are metal and they're just very sturdy. However, my friend Miriam says that is not necessarily always true. But for $10, it's hard to go wrong. If nothing else, I have parts.

The Real Cmyst

The blog will be more SCA oriented, along with gaming stuff. To that end, the pictures I post will be either real SCA events that we've attended or screenshots from games. Towards the end of last year, I entered Second Life again. My avatar in Second Life is Cmyst Turbo, who lives in a castle in Inverness and also has a croft near Loch Ness. She mostly wanders around trying to find somewhat socially redeeming activities to engage in, which is not easy in Second Life, but IS possible. When bored, she pulls out the 'ol fiddle and busks at the side of the road.
I consider my mundane career a blessing, and a solemn responsibility, and often a joyful endeavor -- but it does not define me. It provides the financial support for my REAL life as a brewer, cheese-maker, silk painter, medieval hobbyist, archer, mother, grandmother, life partner, Shireling of Mountain's Gate, Hobbit Hunter and Warden, and Reaver of the Ettenmoors.

Settled

We got moved, but it was back-breaking and grueling. A lot of stuff piles up in three years. Most of it is now in our garage. We made one dump trip, and I've probably thrown out a few more boxes worth of stuff in our weekly garbage since the move. In general, the new place is a marked improvement over the old one. But we do miss the gardens. Our backyard here is a mess of dried up ceder/redwood "leaves" and weeds. It will require an entire weekend to fix it, and it's a low priority currently.
SCA stuff: The Court of Daniel and Aeschine is going pretty well. It's been an education for the likes of me. So much work to project a regal and bountiful principality! So little donated by the populace! Suffice it to say that I am making it my personal goal to try to contribute the tangible items that everyone takes for granted, the newcomer's gifts and largesse, from this point onwards to both Principality and Kingdom. I will pay my Brewer's Guild "taxes" with a much more generous heart, and will offer up quantities of small items for every Principality reign and twice yearly for Kingdom. I'm thinking, small painted cloth maps and either beaded necklaces or baubles of some sort. Maybe a "ring" made from the stretchy beading line, in appropriate colors. Maybe populace badges for the West, since they're pretty simple. I also need to replace the Herald's chair that I broke last year, which I keep forgetting to do. It is really awful the amount of money that our Royalty has to spend. My cheiftain, Morgan, was correct in his admonition to me all those years ago: the Royals really do spend a lot of time and money during Their reigns, which in itself is worthy of the respect of the populace aside from their feelings about individual Royalty or their persona's liklihood of cooperating with Royalty from a historical perspective. It has been an honor and privilege to serve on this Court, and to learn these lessons in a most personal way. I get so much from the SCA. The first and most basic level of SCA involvement for most of us is going to events, which are usually a mixture of mundane camping and SCA cultural camping. And at some time during that event, for most of us, there will be a moment of otherworldliness or a truly anachronistic experience. It is not, strictly speaking, historically accurate. But neither is it your average modern camping experience. My moments usually come after dark, when the drums and dancing begin, in a setting of firepits and twinkling lights.
There is just no way that any of us can experience that anywhere else but in the SCA, and even at a beginner's level this ambiance is truly a wonder. As one begins to settle in, one makes friends and probably begins to become interested in something. For many, it is heavy fighting. For some, it is archery. For others, it is garb or calligraphy or cooking or woodworking or brewing. For some of us, it is all of the above.
My Shire is the base of all of this, and my particular Shire is an excellent and supportive community. Having such a group is the glue that holds me fast to the SCA in general. Prior to finding ourselves in this Shire, it was our Household that kept us involved, but that didn't work as well since our Household is based out of Southern California. Finding a local community was the key to our happiness and involvement. Our Shire tries to at least have a presence and a meeting place at most Kingdom and Principality events, and that is important for newer members of the community who still feel a little out of place and lost. They can spend the entire event in the Shire Sunshade if they choose, and if they want to wander and explore they know they will have someplace to call home when they get hungry or thirsty or tired. Beyond that, they have friends who will introduce them to other people and encourage them to join in.
Believe me, it is hard to jump in to the SCA cold. Miach and I tried and tried and tried, because even though we were not finding it very welcoming beyond our Household, we realized that it was worth it to us to make the attempt due to our interests and eccentricities. We were "fringies" more from a lack of mentorship than anything else. We wanted to volunteer, and were told it wasn't needed. We wanted to belong, but we seemed to be forgotten from one event to the next. We didn't understand Court, or the process for the giving of awards. It was our interest in archery and geekery of a loosely Medieval nature that inspired us to keep trying, but it honestly felt for much of 4 years that we were banging our heads against a wall. Then we found ourselves in Mountain's Gate Shire, and it all rather quickly fell into place. We have a home. We belong. We have people to turn to in times of trouble, and to share in times of joy. We feast together, laugh together and sometimes cry together -- and that is what a community is about. And this is no closed group. When new people show up, they are welcomed in. Having been a part of many groups in my life, there are certain themes that I recognize as being common. For instance, in any group there are people who do most of the work, often because they can't say "no" and often because they truly like to stay busy. There are people who feel it is their role to set boundaries and limits to the behavior of others, which can be done in positive or negative ways. There are people who are very dramatic and flamboyant, and people who are shy and self-effacing. There are people with grand plans, and people with realistic expectations. Often, these different roles become unbalanced, and a group can become unhealthy -- usually this manifests as stronger personalities taking over more and more of a smaller and smaller community, and often wondering why they can't attract more members. Such has not been the case with Mountain's Gate since we arrived, and with luck and Grace it will continue so.
We have settled happily. Miach is now an authorized heavy combatant, an authorized missile range marshall, a Pursuivant Extroardinaire Herald, member of the Order of the Leaf of Merit, and the Order of the Friendly Castle. And I was given the Scutiferous Cynaguae recently, and intend to continue to merit it with my service.
Beyond that, we have tried to see to it that those members of our Shire that have shown their comitment and skill have been placed before the Royalty in consideration of whatever honors They feel are appropriate. Some of our Shire have gone far too many years without this recognition, and are so far beyond the honors that they are now receiving that I am humbled by their patience and continuing good will. Others have shown far more talent and generosity with their skills and time, with far less time spent in the SCA, than I had when I earned my AOA and are entirely deserving of being recognized for it. When I earned my AOA, I had really not internalized so much of what I "knew" about the SCA so the interwoven relationships between populace and Peers and contributions and enjoyment were not that clear to me. As time goes on, they are much more evident.