Book of the Black Dog

Inspired this morning to write this. Here as a reminder to myself.

(to the tune of Streets of Laredo)
*Edited to implicate other..possibly more guilty..players*

As I walked out on the field of the tourney
As I walked out to tourney one day
I spied a poor fighter dressed up in white linen
All moaning and groaning and the color of clay

I never should have gone drinking with Michael
I never should have gone drinking last night
My head is still pounding and my guts are rebelling
I don’t know if I’m up for this fight.

“Man-up”, I said, “and put on your big pants.
Put on your big pants and get out and play”
You knew you should never go drinkin with Don Michael
You’ll enjoy the night, but you’ll rue the day.

"Good God, his liver’s the size of Wyoming.
I’ve heard that it can process industrial waste.
You got what you deserve, tryin to keep up with Michael
Carousing, and singing, and getting shit-faced."

"So, strap on your rapier, and get on the field.
Parry your ass off and try not to die.
The drink made you talk smack, now go out and prove it.
Your mask will help cover if you happen to cry."

He said, "Come help me drag my ass to the list field.
Bring six pretty gals back from the partylast night.
I’ll be in for the mele, I swear I’ll be O.K.
With Motrin and Red Bull, I’ll be back in the fight.”

"Oh, beat the drum slowly, and play the fife lowly
And play the dead march as you carry me along
I don’t know what I was thinkin’, going out drinkin’
For I am a poor cadet and I know I've done wrong"

We beat the drum slowly and played the fife lowly,
And laughed in our fists as we carried him along.
For “no shit” stories breed faster than rabbits
And sometimes they happen to wind up in song.

I can tell that I am paying more attention to my form, and when it goes to pot. I'm also more willing just to call it a night when I can tell when I'm getting impatient and sloppy. Unfortunately when I was sparring with my Don was when I was getting tired and sloppy. My rear foot was lifting during my lunge (over extending) and I was telegraphing. On the up side I was working on not centering my blade and leaving my arm open. Also working on rolling my shoulder instead of pulling it back when lining up. I also need to go back and look at a couple plates. I don't think I've groked them to the point of application.

Working, working.

Putting start to lyrics here for later reference. Not finished or scanning right, but it's a start.

Yesterday,
I don’t think my nipple looked that way.
Now it’s an ugly bluish green,
And several more spots can be seen.

Hell, here’s three more on my leg.
I look like I‘ve got the plague.
Or like some spotted jersey cow
I’m sure there will be more three days from now.

The heavy fighters catcalls come in a flood,
Just because I’m not pissing blood.
I could wear bruises like a pelt,
Like some under-armored “generi-celt”

They’re right of course it could be worse,
I really like my spleen unburst.
My Don is asking me what’s up.
I tell him that I’m glad I wear a cup.

My doctor asks me if I feel safe at home.
But I'm abused on the field by Guillaume.
Or by Simon, Micheal, or Doc Jock.
I really shouldn’t use my face to try and block.

My Capo Ferro could improve
I practice footwork til I’ve worn a groove.

Ok, to get a couple inside jokes out of the way: ahem
THIRTEEN!!!
Up by the Ilium of dawn.

Really, don't ask.

Ok WW breakdown. This was my first SCA camping event, but I did day trip WW a couple years ago in search of my rapier authorization. I could say that the experience was biblical. First there was the great storm, then the plague of flies, and by the end we almost had to kill Mary's first born son. Just sayin.

I attended solo as my honey's idea of camping is a hotel with hot and cold running waiters. With that in mind, I am so glad I did not convince her to come with. She would have been miserable with the heat, the flies, the strangers, the storm etc etc and then looked at me and asked "Remind me again, why did you think this was a good idea?".

I camped with great folks, good food, good laughs good times. The tent weathered the storm with absolutely no troubles. I got some nice compliments on the pavilion and my mead. Cooking with dutch oven and coals turned out to be a learning experience, but none the less yummy.

Fighting: Friday, I was off my game. Period. I could make excuses, but really that's what they would be. Saturday on the other hand was a GREAT day. Started off with the Baroness' Whim, and got to schtick it up and play the fop, and make both baronesses laugh. I got to step in and help assist two relatively new fighters against two Dons in a reductive Mele and turned the tide so the final fight was between the two new folks. Got to rip off some memorable lines in the NOT the duel at dawn - Nuh-uh! and picked up some fights with out of town folks that I would never have a chance to spar with. Now I want to pen a song called "Nickle sized bruises" (Even if you win you lose, if all you take home is a nickle sized bruise.)

Saturday evening was ended with way too much drinking at Shadow company, and staggering mostly downhill to my tent. But next year, (yes dear readers, I'm hoping there is a next year) I want to have more clothes made, and final touches put on my tent.

That's all for now. More as I remember it.

So the painting on the tent is all done but some touch up (cleaning up some edges on the roof, and painting over some boo-boos). I also need to sew on some buttons on the inside of the tent for holding the doors open, but I can do that on site during down time.

Last night was good. I got to test out my new turnshoes. They fit great and they have enough grip that I'm not going to need to put on some dance sole for traction. The downside is that they really do look like house slippers. Meh. I still need to sew on some straps for tightening the whole shoe up a bit, and maybe dye them a darker color (they are buff colored now).

I had a good time fighting last night. My honey has pointed out that I get pissy when I don't go and fight on a regular basis, and I've missed fighting for two weeks in a row. So it was good to get back in there. There was visitors from out of town, and for the life of me I cannot remember her name, but sparring with new folks is always a treat. I got to spar with my teacher, and block with my face a bit, and I almost wound up missing out on the opportunity because I wanted to leave in time to go home and paint on my tent while I still had sunlight. But all was accomplished, and now the feverish packing begins for WW.

Primarily to folks I might wind up camping with... intresting plans for camp kitchen gear.

http://www.blueskykitchen.com/index.html

I'm thinking of getting plans, intrested?