The itsy-bitsy spider, caught a fairy in its web.
The itsy-bitsy spider, bit off the fairy's head.
A computer begins to download. There's typing and beeping in the background. A message box appears on the screen.
I'm fairly certain I have stated this somewhere else on a RECord, but it needs saying once again (there is a reason, a good one too!). Every June the town of Port Gamble hosts June Faire, an SCA (Society for Creative Anachronism) run event (basically a medieval/fantasy fair). And every year my family and I gear up and head out to Port Gamble for the day. My family likes to merchant-hop, and every now and then they buy something cool (hey, these outfits had to be constructed somehow!). I'm no shopper.
I hit up the tournaments and photograph the living daylights out of them. The tournaments consist of: Equestrian without the jousting, because the insurance costs too much and the jousters really do get injured every single time; Rapier which consists of individual, team, and the hilarious tavern brawl (the rapier fighting is essentially fencing complete with protective headgear); Armoured Combat which consists of individual and team, and this is where "the big idiots beat the crap out of each other" (as told to me by one of the combatants) with swords, shields, helmets, and fantastic armor.
The other tournaments are Archery, Axe Throwing and Bardic. I ignored these three & Equestrian (because I showed up late). But this year (they didn't host last year, sadly) I managed to snap the armoured/rapier team tourny as well as the rapier tavern brawl!
I will be going back tomorrow for the rest of the tournys to photograph, so over the week you will get a large (I snapped 158 photos so far) influx of medieval combat.
Just thought I should warn you.
Hunting 101: Class Session #1 - The Uninvited House Guest
I just couldn't resist sharing this story with you guys. I live way out in the neck of the woods in Washington. All kinds of wild animals live on our property outside, but one particular little rodent has found a nice cozy place to live inside. We've already lost a third of our pantry to mice, and have since saved the rest by transferring everything to glass and metal jars. Some of these lovely little creatures, birds & squirrels included, have taken up residence within the walls. They drive me insane at night because they're only in the second floor walls where I sleep!
This morning I heard some scuffling and chewing that is often from within the walls, so naturally I assumed this was the case. Normally I get up and pound on the walls to scare them off which works only for a few days. Not so in this case. As I turned on the lights to get a better view I saw a dark little shape scurry into hiding, sort of. I bent down for a closer look because last time that happened my Mom told me I was seeing things.
Nope, I know I definitely saw something. I knew this because I was staring into the face of the culprit! A tiny little field mouse. Now you guys don't know how I get about my room, so let me explain a little. As far as I'm concerned the only thing that should be living in my room is me. Any other living creature enters my domain is fair game. I will hunt them down and kill them whatever they are. Usually it's only big ass spiders (seriously, they're so big you can hear them walk on the walls before you see them).
Last week an egg case hatched above my bed and I spent the wee hours of the morning killing 30 some odd spiders plus a parent spider. I can't begin to tell you how much I hate waking up in the middle of a good dream to 30 spiders climbing down the ceiling to land on me. So just imagine how ticked I was that there was a mouse in what should have been my haven from the outside world.
Unfortunately the mouse knew it was looking up into my face and scurried off before I could do anything. I was so determined to catch it though. Cue another obstacle. My parents called me down for something I can't even remember now, but I remember I stomped down that staircase madder than hell.
This startled my parents as I'm usually the one person to wake up happy. They asked what was wrong and I spat out that I had a mouse in my room. Parent's dialogue:
Dad: "We thought we heard you stomping around up there. Were you trying to catch it or something?"
Me: "Well yeah, I don't want a mouse in my room!"
Mom: "Don't bother trying to cach it. You can't catch mice, they're too fast and slippery. We'll have to set traps. They like peanut butter more than cheese and I'm perfectly fine with you putting some up there to lure it out."
Some more unimportant dialogue about whatever it was they wanted me to do down there, and then I stomped back upstairs. Up the staircase I had this internal monologue going on about how I was going to hunt that mouse down regardless of whether or not I'd be able to catch it. I always get that determined when something comes uninvited into my living quarters. No spider has survived my clutches and I was just as determined for this mouse to fail as well.
I decided I would clean up the area the mouse was living in so that I could better put up the traps. Turns out the mouse was still there! As I was cleaning up some things I noticed other ones were moving about. So I decided to move quietly and quickly. I carefully moved the item the mouse had hidden under and there it was, sitting there all curled up hoping I hadn't noticed it was there.
I honestly was expecting it to be bigger. I was looking around for something to catch it in and noticed the teacup on my nightstand was the perfect size. I carefully dumped its contents onto my bed and then moved faster than I ever have in my life. I caught the mouse in the teacup! Well most of the mouse anyway, its tail was sticking out underneath the teacup, so I picke dit up by its tail.
I happily, okay I triumphantly, marched down the staircase and proclaimed "can't catch a mouse my foot!" Mom leapt up from her chair saying "what do you mean?"
Me: "Look! I got him!" I held up the mouse, proudly, by his tail. In retrospect I probably shouldn't have.
She kept on shrieking as she tried to talk, "oh! I don't know what we should do! That's not sanitary! Quick get your father!"
Well he happened to be driving away to work so my brother ran out there and got him to stop. I walked up to him and told him the same things I told Mom. His reaction? "Oh wow! I can't believe you caught it! Let's feed it to Pippin!"
Mom: "It has to be dead if we're feeding it to the dog."
Me: "Well I'm not doing that! I can catch the mouse but I'm not killing it!" I know that goes against everything I've already told you all, but that is how I reacted. Now that I had the cute little thing, I couldn't bring myself to end it. I did technically accomplish what I set out to do, catch it and get it out of my room. We had by ow placed it in a Ziploc because we just didn't know what to do with it. And I had to stop Mom from shrieking.
So Dad, having fed numerous mice to pet snakes over the years, grabbed the bag thwacked it against the outdoor steps and said cheerily, "here you go Pippin! Have a snack."
And that, my dear fellow HR-ers, is how you catch a mouse and feed it to your dog.
So how was your morning?
As my Mom and I were skipping through ads on the Discovery Channel, we saw one for their new reality show "Naked and Afraid" and this was the ensuing conversation.
Mom: They're supposed to be naked but they censored it, I really wish they wouldn't, if they're going to put that kind of stuff on the television they shouldn't censor it. It defeats the purpose and I'd love to see more penises and boobs on tv.
She was of course kidding, but it still threw me for a loop. Good thing I swallowed my drink before she spoke.
"Quick!" cried the traitor, Eggs Benedict, to Count Spatula. "The breakfast, they're eggscaping!"
The guy with the multi-colored leggings had apprently taken the job of plucky comic relief. During the tavern brawl he often fought with no sword opting instead for bar-stool legs, plates, buckets, wine bottles, and goblets. Last time they did this he fought with a beer tankard and a loaf of bread, and once with only two loaves of bread. As with any good tavern brawl, it was everyone against everyone. Our multi-colored friend would often sneak up behind other brawlers and shove a bucket on their heads.
They often attacked him en masse. =P