February 15th, 2004

[fades] browns and reds

Faire to middling--

Bleah. Well, that was fun, but only as a change of pace. The faire was highly overadvertised, even if it didn't have a web presence. Maybe eight vendors, instead of the 20-40 I'd heard rumor of, musicians should have been "a band, arriving late" (although the Bedlam Bards are cool--hell, in 32 degree weather, anyone's cool). I'll probably do it again next year, but I won't worry much about costuming. There were more merchants than attendees, and that's a sad thing :( A faire where I was the only one that brought a camera...sigh. Very sad.

Did get April to take a really good picture of me in costume, though, against this cool "bats and full moon" wrought-iron wall ornament thingie. I'll put that in my February scrapbook.

Invested heavily in Skaven for the Bloodbowl game. Will now have to paint them. Must come up with names for thirteen violent, scabby little rat-men and a minotaur. Must figure out Bloodbowl rules. They assume a working knowledge of and mild interest in football, as opposed to a "couldn't concievably care less" attitude.

Snow was nice. Driving in the snow at 4:00 in the morning was a little scary, but when I couldn't see anyone in the road (nobody on the road that was in their right minds was driving, but I had gone to an RPG on a winter storm night...) I threw on my bright lights, which on my car are nova-bright, and turned the road into a galaxy of swirling flakes. It was beautiful, and we so rarely see real snow down here.

And so convenient! It would have been better if it could have provided a romantic cap for Valentine's Day, but it gave us all the positive effects of snow--one warm night curled up with hot chocolate (or in my case the d20 Spycraft rules), one morning where the sun shown dazzlingly bright over crystal-strewn fields, then off the ground by 10:30. Very professional.
[fades] browns and reds

Typo for the day--

Which was actually a thought-o, or a speak-o, or something, as it was a mistake made while a friend was reading something aloud--a few passages from Yeats "The Second Coming," as part of the intro to a game about the end of the world--

Turning and turning in the widening gyre
The falcon cannot hear the falconer;
Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;
Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,
The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere
The ceremony of innocence is drowned;
The best lack all convictions, while the worst
Are full of passionate intensity.

The thought-o, which I cannot figure out, as it was a substitution of a more obscure, rarely-used word for a commmon one, was "...Anarchy is loosed upon the world, the blood-dimmed tilde..."

Blood-dimmed tilde will absolutely be the title of my next book. Yup.

That is all...