R!M goes to TRF

Pictures, at last! None of me or my daughter (I’m not photogenic and she is skittish about having her picture taken in the first place). But a renaissance festival is always filled with hams ready to cut it up for the camera. Especially if you hand them a prop.

First off is Lewis, of the Other Brothers Juggling Show, seen here about to take a bite out of Raaaaahr. They are always on our “must-see” list. 

And from the other side of the festival grounds, it’s Shelby of Sound and Fury. R!M is very impressed with Shelby’s facial imitation, perfectly capturing R!M’s permanent expression of horror and bewilderment. 

Next we have a frightening encounter with the Bilge Pumps, as “Harvey the Corpsman” goes Lewis one better, actually biting into R!M’s felty arm. See, there are reasons R!M never changes expressions. When you are a six inch monster, the world is full of danger, including ravenous pirates. Oh, if you are looking for pirate music for your next Talk Like a Pirate Day party, their inaptly named Greatest Hits v. VIII is probably the best buy for your boullion. R!M wants them to sell lots of music, so they can buy food and not be so hungry for monster flesh in the future.

At last, life is looking better for R!M. From Valentine’s Academy of Arts and Armour. It’s a bloodthirsty show, but not for monster flesh.

Here’s one of the lady supporters of the program making bosum buddies with R!M.

Even the violent Hard John Thomas takes a shine to R!M.

By this point, R!M was getting a bit worn from the handling, so took a good long nap in my bag whilst I enjoyed the melodious bagpiping of Tartanic. And some other things about Tartanic.

Huzzah!

This past weekend I went to Texas Ren Fest, camping Friday and Saturday nights. I’d show you pictures, but I think Carapace has the camera. OK, so I’ll show you pictures later. I know what you are really wondering is, “how’d it go what with walking around the festival?”

Pretty damn good.

I took two canes, a knee brace and, of course, my orthotics. The combination kept me steady and took the weight off my legs and feet that usually has me done in after a couple of hours. I was exhausted and dehydrated and hurting at the end of Saturday, but a night’s rest and plenty of water had me feeling much better Sunday.

Funniest line I heard at TRF this time was from a toddler who observed me and then told her daddy with great excitement, “She has two sticks!” Heh, someone is learning to count. I am glad to have been of service. Second funniest line was from a patron, in mock horror, on her way to the exit. “Someone stole all my money!” It’s a fact that money seems to disappear unaccountably at ren fairs. Apparently many people were losing all their money this past weekend. I made a point of asking vendors how their sales were, and each one I asked told me the same thing, that this weekend people seemed happier, more willing to part with their money, than the week before. Almost like some major event had happened that left consumers feeling a bit more confident. I don’t know about other business people, but the TRF vendors seem quite pleased with Obama right now.

I didn’t buy a whole lot, being mostly kitted out already, but I did get a nice rucksack with a dragon design while I was there, relieving me of having to manage a shoulder-carried bag while using canes. And I got a few odds and ends. There was some beautiful artwork for sale that I would love to have if I had the room. But I don’t. Anybody wants a bronze water fountain in the shape of a dragon or a green man, I know just the guy.

Other good things that made the weekend pleasant:

new Coleman propane stove with instant lighting. It was nearly as easy as using the kitchen stove.

new tent with 7′ height and enough space for two twin air mattresses. Sadly, one air mattress wasn’t worth the attempt to inflate it, but the good one left Carapace sleeping comfortably, as did her tall-sized sleeping bag.

my adjustable portable table! It’s not just good for sewing; it also fits nicely into the back of my car and is light enough that even I don’t struggle with it.

taking Monday off for recovery. I had a whole day to put things away, wash clothes, and sleep after I got back. And so I went back to work Tuesday happy and feeling good.

Next year:

Don’t bring lounger. It never got used.

Remember jacket. Sure, I can just wear all my garb, but it would still have been nice if I remembered to bring a jacket.

Minor league griping

This past week has been rather uneventful, other than the usual slings and arrows. Which have annoyed me more than they normally do, merely because I had been having a good run of it over the summer. While I enjoyed having several weeks without daily pain, it has a negative in that, with the return of the distinct feeling that my joints are shredding and liquifying, I am irritated unreasonably. It isn’t like I didn’t know that my respite was temporary, and I know it seems petty to be grumpy over having the daily pain again when so many never get a break from it ever. 

Still…. Poop. I would like to be able to go to TRF without my knees and hips driving me to the point of tears. How to manage it? My ideas from the summer seem so paltry now.  Will two walking sticks work? When I tried it out Saturday, when my kneecaps were trying very hard to take up residence on the backside of my legs, it seemed futile. Should I get a new rollator? I hate taking a rollator to TRF, but what else can I do to take the weight off my legs? Scooter? Hated that, too, at TRF. Things that work well on pavement don’t work so well on hard-packed, sometimes muddy, dirt. And then there is getting about in the shops to consider. You think your local mall is inaccessible? Look upon the ren fest and note how the lack of shop accessibility is the one area in which there seems to be no anachronism. And my very favorite show is always at the least accessible stage.  What do people have against ramps? Grumble, grumble.

It’s still not enough for me to not go. Or to not camp. I am looking forward to it. But I also want to have the best experience possible, so if anyone else has ideas, please pass them on.

Oh, also. You know what I hate that isn’t usually painful? Waking up to the sudden sound of a joint going “pah!” And those few moments when I wonder, “OK, so can I still move?” It’s especially unnerving when the joint in question is a couple of vertebrae. Anyone else have this, or is it just me?

OK, I’m done with my whining. Anyone else want to grump about relatively minor things? The comments are open. Oh, don’t tell me how good I’ve got it or offer (yecch) sympathy. Whine, dammit! Whine! Or tell me your hints for ambulating at Big Events.

My car hates me

So, yesterday, my daughter and I had big plans to go to the local ren faire and then go swimming, if our bodies were still up to that. I drove on out to her place at the end of a dirt road to fetch her. So far, so good. We got back into my car, and then I realized I need to get something out of the hatchback. So I got back out, opened the hatchback, lifted the cargo lid, and bent over to get the item. As I was bending over, the cargo lid came falling back, smacking me hard on the bridge of my nose. It was one of those blows that leave you literally unable to see anything for a moment, as all the nerves of my face reeled in shock. Somehow, though, it wasn’t broken so I got back in the car, only to hear MD’s horror as the blood began to bubble up through the cut I couldn’t feel since my entire face had gone numb from the blow. Yes, it hurt horribly, but that didn’t stop us from continuing our plans.

We went on to the faire, down another dirt road and had a pleasant time. Then we left. After a couple of minutes on the road, I heard a strange noise. Then MD piped up that she heard it too. I pulled over, and, sure enough, my brand new tire on my brand new car was completely flat. With a hole in the sidewall. Poop. Now I have to deal with getting the tire replaced through warranty, and I can’t say as I want one from the same manufacturer.

Oh, and my face still hurts. The cargo lid hit me right where my glasses sit (fortunatly, I wasn’t wearing them at the time) so everytime I put them on for up close work, I aggravate the injury.

Despite my car revealing its Decepticon leanings, it was still a good day. We were rescued by Sir Lancelot (MD promises to describe this) and learned from the woman whose drive I had pulled into all about an evac insurance plan that will cover emergency helicopter cost for just $50 a year. Once MD is signed up for that, I won’t worry so much about her down there at the end of her dirt road.

fairy dusted

This particular story takes place at the ren fair this past weekend. Saturday had pleasant weather, but it turned out to be too hot for my daughter, who tends not to sweat and was in garb. She began displaying signs of confusion and irritation, but was determined to charge onward all the same. Which, unsurprising to me, led directly to a seizure.

Now, I am used to these events and know that, as long as she is still breathing, that there is nothing to do but wait it out. Most people simply passed by, not ever noticing the young woman prone in the dirt. A few came up, asking if they should call for assistance. This is the norm. My role in all this is to simply assure others that she isn’t dead or about to die, and to make the entire situation look as unremarkable as possible.

After a good 15 minutes, she finally regained consciousness and began slowly scolding me, as usual, for not having done an adequate job of both being right there and leaving her alone. She’s my child, so I expect this too.

While we engaged in our ritual of mother/daughter dynamics, and I was thinking that I no longer had to be on the lookout for people bothering her, a foot suddenly comes down on her diaphragm. Attached to that foot was a woman in a fairy costume. After a shocked split second, M.D. pushes the fairy off and chokes out: “I’m not part of the performance” while I holler “She’s just coming out of a seizure. Get off her!” A different fairy inquires if she should go get help, but personal-space invader fairy just stands there gob-smacked.

We expect people to stare, to inquire, to want to try out their Red Cross skills. We expect them to just walk by quickly, pretending there is nothing out of the ordinary happening at all. But we never expected that anyone would decide that someone who has fallen to the ground makes a great prop.