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Obesity guidelines should not be a yardstick for morality

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I'm seriously thinking of day tripping Toys for Tots.  His Excellency of Vatavia is taking a squire at that event, and one of my friends/His Excellency's squires-to-be would really like to attend, but his schedule is crunched by work time.  As in, he has to be at work Sunday 8 a.m.  So we're thinking of leaving very early Saturday morning, hitting the event, and driving back the same day.

So my husband is worried about me fighting without insurance.  Let me tell you, I don't have to get into armor to get hurt.

Vatavia was hosting Blood of Heroes today.  I had shown up not in garb, as mundane situations at home required my attention more than did SCA stuff.  but I wanted to drop something off, and say hi to folks who'd come down.  I was thrilled and delighted to see the enormous Ian the Mountain strolling onto site--I hadn't seen him for literally years.  So I naturally went into hysterical 20 year old mode and ran at him--he knew I was going to jump, and braced himself--and his large, braced knee caught my knee right on the inside, between the patella and the femur.  OMG hurt so bad.  (This is the same knee that Hulan had blown out a rivet on last week at the Standing Stones Regional Fighter Practice.)  I can walk fine, but my knee is sore and the collision has jarred my hip and back.

Knucklehead. 

Freakshow (the 4 year old) just confessed that she drew oblongs and rounds on her legs with black marker so she could have bruises just like mommy.

I just wanted to say that I'm really looking forward to attending this event.

 http://symposium.shireofstandingstones.org/

 With armor on and everything.
 

So, after a long time of being out of armor, I went to fighter practice.

Yes, it's true; I have no insurance. But I was starting to think that if I didn't get back into the saddle again, as it were, I never would. And I've been asking myself too many damn questions about do I even want to fight? And I was tired of doubting myself and getting more and more nervous and unhappy.

So. My gear from the skin out--

My female groin protection, aka my jill.
My crappy mattress pad gambeson that my spouse and I have shared forever.
C-belt, which I love. Legs attached to C belt--I still like my thighs (metal with overlay of green suede), but the cuir bolli knees need to go.
Mantle of suede and felt. Good for padding, not for looks.
Dog collar gorget. I finally ripped off the foam and duct tape I'd put on. It looks better.
Breastplate. I love this thing. Steel and green leather. Buckles in the front.
Cuir bolli elbows, padded. Cuir bolli vambraces.
Gauntlets.

I borrowed my husband's heavy heater, but the strap had pulled out of its rivets. I borrowed his basket hilt sword and his half gauntlet for that one. His Excellency Sir Gawayne let me borrow his heater. (Thanks, Gawayne!)

Chugudai let me borrow a helmet of his which worked a treat.

A young woman whom I'd met briefly before at Melees and Mayhem was down, visiting her new boyfriend (be nice to her, Thorbjorn!). I believe her name is Jacquette. Anyway, we got to spar, and that was a lot of fun. This may sound bad, but I think I get more out of fighting someone who's at my level rather than who is way above me. She clocked me in the head a couple times, and rather than rattle me, it rang like a bell so all I could do was laugh. I tell you what, it was so nice to fight someone my height. I took her leg a couple of times, I got in some head shots, and I did get in a couple of thrusts, go me. She took my left thigh a lot. I'm going to have some bruises there.

We did melees, too. I really want to learn how to be a good shieldman so that I'm of some use. I get too excited out there in melees. "What? You tried to snatch my shield? Screw that, raaarrr!" :Iz Ded.:
I need a lot of practice.

I got hit right to the side of the bladder the first time. Wow. It scared me more than hurt me. The perpetrator, our knit marshall, apologized.  Then the second time I got hit in the crease between pudenda and thigh, on my right. That time I bellowed out goddamnit! People were asking me, as I lay there, if I was okay, and I hollered yes. Sure, I was okay. More scared and mad than hurt. And after a few minutes, it didn't hurt at all.  That was from Chugudai, who'd been trying to hook the bottom of my shield with his polearm.  After the melee was over, he ran over to where I was and dove to his knees in apology.  Heavens.  I told him I wasn't hurt, I just wanted him to teach me what I'd done wrong.

We went through 2 more melees, where I did what I was told, doing what His Excellency Wulfric calls a Mad Dog right.  First time, I died pretty quick, although up against a conveneient tree.  Second time I got all the way through the lines and tied up 2 polearms before getting clocked.

I think I did okay today.

Is my unconscious trying to tell me something?

First I dreamed I was made Queen of Calontir with a proxy king. 

Then I dreamed I was at a war and they were going to make me a knight--except when I looked in the mirror I had long grey hair and age wrinkles. Plus the cotehardie that

lizzamamaloaned me wasn't fitting right.

Dear, dear.
 

 

Actually, it's my husband Tancred who should go to RUSH.

I do want to make it absolutely clear that I am in no way discounting the wonderful experience that would come with being a student of either a martial arts or an A&S teacher.  It's just something I never thought possible until very very very recently.

And again, studying in any of these disciplines is not something I particularly worry about.  The thing that happens is the thing that is supposed to happen, and being open to many possibilities often brings joy unlooked for.

And the future holds so much magic....

ETA:  No, this is not somehting I am particularly worried about.  I just like thinking about things from time to time.  :^D

Sure, I know I still have over a year left in my position as Baroness.  And no, so far I have not yet thought "Woe, heavy is the head that wears a Coronet" or anything like that.  Being Baroness has been nothing but a blessing and a gift.

But I do wonder--what comes after?  Do I want to devote myself afterwards to studying the arts of war?  Do I want to spend my time immersed in arts and sciences?  Do I want to dedicate my being to service?

Really, the only Peerage I had ever dreamed about was the Order of the Pelican.  It seemed to fall in line with what I liked best; or, rather, what I found myself doing and enjoying seemed to be closest to to the nature of service.

I love setting stuff up so others can play.  I love encouraging folks.  I love making things happen between people.  So far, one of the greatest joys of wearing the Baronial Coronet has been having access to people that I can introduce to other people. 

And that is what is so key to me, is the people.  I know sometimes I've felt hurt and horribly stressed out (due to non-Baronial issues, don't worry), so many negative feelings stemming from this or that thing--and it's so very easy to think that the best thing to do would be to shut down--to shut people out, to shut one's self away from people.

Ah, but remember, sometimes the sanctuary becomes a prison.  If you shut yourself in for long enough, you can't get out.  If you can't get out, you can't give.  And that's the key to being a peer, isn't it?  Any kind of peer?  To give of yourself.  Again, and again, despite what hard knocks and betrayals you may suffer, despite your own mistakes, despite criticism, rampant stupidity, and people who Just Don't Get You.  Despite the odds (which can be frightening) of getting your fingers burned when you reach out.  And what's scarier?  Letting people in.  

Honor, prowess, etc., is all very well.  But the truest mark of a peer is the person who can dip into his own being and refresh the people with the living water of his soul every time.

And that's what I want to be when I grow up.

Here, have another of the redhead and the blonde.

Sometimes when I go through my pics, there are photos that beg to be cropped into stories. I'm not sure what these stories are, mind you, but they seem to beg context or narrative. Here are a  few; you'll see what I mean.

As usual, you have to click twice to get the full effect. (Like, facial expressions and stuff.)

What a joy this coronation was!

Have some pics.


 





As usual. click to engorge.

So... how does someone who is a landed noble reconcile the possibillity of taking a belt, or sash, or scarf?

If that person does so, doesn't it mean that he's subservient to both Crown and his mentor? Doesn't that conflict with his fealty to the Crown?

Sometimes you get the bear; sometimes the bear gets you.

Coronation is coming! Saturday! I have to look my best!

Sir Kolfinna is fighting a respiratory infection in the ICU at Antelope Valley Hospital.

Thinking of her.

Y'all know how very few of us--if any--turn a hair when a person gets into the SCA and takes a, frex, Norse persona and does it up brown, wearing a Thor's hammer and making references to the Norse dieties. (Okay, those of us with pagan backgrounds or at least respect for pagans might flinch a bit.)

But what if someone takes on a Khazar persona? Or a merchant of al-Andalus?

Certainly there were irreligious Christians, Jews, and Muslims (and pagans) in the middle ages, just as there are today. But for many, religion defined life on a scale that many of us Westerners in the 21st century cannot fully comprehend.

Is it acceptable to take on someone's religion as casually as we would take on his or her clothing, food, and name?