May 2006
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I am The Cyberwolfe and these are my ramblings. All original content is protected under a Creative Commons license - always ask first.
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Back to the Middle Ages

After a long hiatus, Tolerant and I have decided to get back into the SCA this year, if only a little. There are three events that our House will be attending, but only one of them is a sanctioned SCA event.

There is The Gathering in late May I think, which I believe has never been SCA, just built around that idea. It has been growing more popular over the past few years because the big SCA event that happens on the same weekend has been going to pot badly, with a string of management issues and bad sites.

Then there’s Gypsy Days / Sea Dog Nights (mostly just called Sea Dog) in late July which started out SCA, but then the BOD decided they didn’t like the way the event was being run – how dare the Autocrat offer to have more biffies delivered instead of turning people away from the event! So now it is an unsanctioned event that scads of people go to anyway.

This week, however, is the SCA’s 40th Anniversary celebration. The An Tir version is being held up in Randle Washington, and it runs from last weekend through this weekend. Nothing like camping with several thousand of your closest friends, wot? Since I couldn’t afford the whole week off, I will only be attending this weekend. The Ratboy is seriously bummed, since he has to work Saturday and can’t go with.

Tolerant, however, jumped in the deep end with our Lady Illyana and has been there all this week suffering through mostly bad weather and trying to compensate for dehydration and high altitudes. I can’t wait to get up there, so I have taken tomorrow off from work.

So, first thing I take Pookie to school, then straight to the store for supplies. Swing back to the house to shovel the accumulated detritus out of the Beastie, and then shovel in my gear. This won’t take long – I packed most of what I need last weekend, and Tolerant took all the big stuff with her last Saturday. Top off the fuel, and I should be on the road (hopefully) by 10:00am and singing bad ballads at the top of my lungs all the way.

“…And in a startled voice he cries / to what’s before his eyes
Ach lad, I don’t know where ye’ve been / but I see ye’ve won first prize!”

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