five thousand shades of blue
Monday, June 10, 2002
This weekend was fun... but has strengthened my resolve to limit my camping participation in SCA events to day-trips until I can make/acquire my own yurt and a camp bed that is up off the ground. I'm too old to be sleeping on the hard, cold ground, and my joints hate me for days for it.
The park that we stayed at has had a history in the past of being nothing but rainy, and I really should've known better than to shrug off packing items like my waterproof rubber garden shoes. What Saturday's rainstorm lacked in staying power it made up for with sheer intensity. I swear, we must have had 4 inches of rain in thirty minutes. Water was washing off of the roof of the kitchen tent so fast we could blast the coffee dregs out of the bottom of our cups within seconds. With thunder, lightning and even a spot of hail, as well.
It was as fun as any event we've done, minus the politics, pressures, and busy schedules (a positive thing). But it did mean a heightened sense of awareness, camping in the middle of "mundanes" -- for in the SCA there is an unpoken trust based on the pillars of our society -- courtesy, chivalry, and honesty, and it rarely gets proven wrong. Luckily, our nearest neighbours seemed to be a class of middle schoolers and despite their shrieking (in that way that only 12 year old girls can do) they were just fine. We even did an impromptu demo on life in the middle ages for them, which they seemed to enjoy -- complete with armoured combat.
It was damn cold though, and I didn't sleep well either night. And I could not seem to stay asleep last night, either. When I did manage to sleep I dreamt of surrealistic Escher houses, with people flying or swimming from room to room, and I am trying to follow them... but I am frustrated because I am only watching it on TV as if it were a movie (actually, my dream sense knew somehow that they were scenes that had been added to a Robin Williams movie --
Toys, I think). I remember being angry that no one would come and watch with me.
I seem to dream a lot as if I am watching TV. Perhaps it is my subconscious telling me something -- stop observing, and
do.
This Saturday,
Cirque du Soleil's
Dralion in Portland. I already love the show (especially the music) and I am looking forward to dressing up in my cobalt blue silk outfit and having a night out. Thank heavens for friends willing to spot the money for tickets.
is
this just not enough…?
