The month of May

As I expected, SCA stuff quieted down for me once May began. I haven't been to an event this month and won't be attending one till June, at least. However, the SCA is never far from my mind.

Examples:

• I finished the baronial newsletter on May 8. A few days late, but not too bad.
• I also finished my second piece of Baltic pick-up weaving and am working on a pattern for a wider band. I intend to work my way up to more complex designs.
• I prodded a few people to agree to teach heraldry classes at the June University of Atlantia, which I won't be able to attend because I have to work long hours on both days of the event.
• Now that my sewing machine is finally running again, I'm planning the sewing projects that I'd like to tackle in June and July (i.e., before Pennsic). New garb will make me feel great.

I have several other things to do in terms of Pennsic advance planning, but I will try to list them in the next entry.

Unfortunately, sadness has returned to Storvik. Master Igor Medved, Third Territorial Baron of Storvik, passed away on May 18, four days before his 51st wedding anniversary. He was a giant of a man, not just physically, but also in terms of his personality, his hospitality, his generosity and his sense of justice. The world is poorer without him.

The second half of April

The "big news" for the second half of April was that Storvik held its annual Novice Tournament on the last weekend of the month. We've been holding it in June for quite a few years, but we always get quite a few complaints about heat, humidity and mosquitoes. Now that we have added horses and dogs to the activity mix, it behooves us to pick a date with weather that's less likely to make the critters overheat.

This year, though, we inadvertently drew a weekend on the other end of the temperature spectrum. April 2026 has seen quite a few days in the 70s and 80s, but Saturday was cool and cloudy, with the threat of rain in the afternoon and evening. Things weren't too bad in the middle of the day, and my friend Patches was in charge of the archery range, so I went out there to shoot some arrows.

After a brief refresher lesson from a marshal-in-training -- who was named the next Kingdom archery champion during afternoon court! -- I started firing off my loaner arrows with my loaner bow. And I did not suck! It wasn't long before one of my arrows found its way into the center of the target! My instructor captured the moment on my phone camera. (I seem to be having issues with uploading the actual photo.) And more arrows hit the center zone, too! I really should be doing target archery more often.

Later in the afternoon, after I'd rested my feet for a while, the wind really picked up as the temperature dropped a bit. The site that Storvik rents for outdoor events is very flat -- it was a Black-owned airport decades ago -- and it sits next to a wide part of the Patuxent River known as Jug Bay. So when the wind blows, it doesn't encounter much in the way of barriers. Also, the various weather apps on people's phones converged on 5 p.m. as the time when rain would hit.

At many events, I stay for feast, while one of my friends (who has a number of dietary issues) eats her own food and plays the hammered dulcimer for the enjoyment of feast guests. This time around, she didn't want to expose her instrument to a potential rainstorm. And, truth be told, when afternoon court ended just before 5 p.m., both she and I were chilled to the bone (again -- I should have learned my lesson last month!) and I agreed that feasting in the rain didn't sound appealing (even though I just LOVE tacos, especially when cooked by my Pennsic campmates). So my $10 for feast became a donation to the barony, and my friend and I picked up a bucket of KFC on the way to her dry, warm home.

That's my tale of Storvik Novice Tourney 2026, A.S. LX.

Speaking of which ... tomorrow is the first day of A.S. LXI. Happy New Year, and Happy 60th Birthday to the SCA!

Progress report, end of February

Whoo-eee ... I am up to my ears in non-SCA work right now. But I did not skip this week's Laydes Fayre rehearsal, as singing groups work best when everyone shows up to practice.

Also this week: Storvik's A&S night featured a viewing of a Turkish documentary called Osman's Dream: Ottoman Janissary Band of America. (Don't worry, it was in English, with Turkish subtitles.) The film follows the Janissary Band around Pennsic 50 and shows the great lengths to which the group has gone to get their depiction of the band historically accurate, from a lot of original research to much hand-sewing. A couple of my friends participate in the band, so it was great fun keeping an eye out for them. You can watch the film yourself by clicking on the title.

Something to noodle over: I was looking over an unofficial website of songs related to the Kingdom of Calontir and found a song that is basically an SCA filk of "Charlie and the MTA." The lyrics are Calontir-specific, of course, but perhaps I could tweak them for Atlantia. (Insert evil grin here.) Then I'd have something to pull out of my hat if I'm at one of those bardic circles where everyone is asked to participate.

Progress report, late January

As I promised at the start of the month, here's my report on the things I've been doing in the SCA.

Regarding the Drekkar: I published the January issue when I was supposed to, and now I'm working on the February issue. I'm thinking about getting together a memorial issue for Baroness Gracie in March, but I can't do that project now because I have to write a feature article for pay (nothing to do with medieval history!) that's due at the end of February.

The highlight of my SCA month was the second annual Highland Hearthglow, hosted by the Barony of Highland Foorde. Once again, the setting was rustic and cozy, way out in the middle of the woods, and the staff of roughly 40 people paid attention to every detail, from the Arabic and English signs to the handmade chess set. This year's theme was the Golden Age of al-Andalus, with food representing the cultures of Muslims, Christians and Jews in the city of Cordoba circa 900 CE.

Some things were outside the control of the very competent staff, such as the bitter cold outside and the Internet outage that prevented live streaming. We'd heard of the winter storm heading our way, so the staff began and ended the event two hours earlier than planned. The schedule got flipped around a bit, but nothing that ruined the atmospheric charm. I paced my eating a bit better, so that I actually had room to taste things from all four courses without feeling so stuffed I couldn't eat another bite. The dishes I liked the best: monk's beef, the fish and the rice pudding.

(Note to anyone reading this post several months after January: Highland Foorde may archive the website later in 2026 in order to make way for information on the next Hearthglow in January 2027.)

I'm uploading my photos of the event to this Flickr album. My apologies for the lack of annotation.

Today (January 31) was supposed to be the date of Lochmere's Midwinter's Revel, but it had to be canceled because of the continuing deep freeze. That snow-and-sleet storm that hit us on January 25 produced "sleet-crete" that is about as easy to clear from roads and driveways as slabs of concrete. It's been ridiculous. Total misery. We might get temperatures above freezing on Groundhog Day.

Because of the cancellation, I had the chance to attend a class through Virtual AEthelmearc AEcademy in our neighboring kingdom. A gentleman known as Lord Algirdas Wolthus in the SCA talked about the archaeology of medieval Novgorod. Really interesting!

More unexpected change

A couple of days after I finished writing the previous entry, I woke up to a message from a friend (our barony's social media minister) saying something like, can you please call me when you get up? (It was a Saturday.) I also had an email from another friend (our barony's seneschal) with the subject line "Sad news." Half asleep, I thought that some elderly person who had stopped playing in the SCA decades ago had passed on.

That was NOT the news.

Our CURRENT Baroness had died, most unexpectedly. She was only 53.

At first our social media minister wanted to keep the news off social media, to give the family some space to spread the news among themselves. But by the late morning, Baroness Gracia's Peer (to whom she'd been apprenticed before she became a Peer in her own right) and his wife (also a Peer) posted their heartfelt tribute to her on Facebook, and then the online floodgates opened.

I felt gutted, of course, but I also realized that I had to pull together some sort of tribute for the Drekkar, which is the Barony of Storvik's newsletter. I sent out word that I really wanted some contributions in memory of Her Excellency, and people responded with photos and a recipe. You can read that issue here.

Because Gracie knew so many people throughout the Kingdom of Atlantia, two celebrations of life were organized: one "up north," here in Maryland, and one "down south" at War of the Wings in central North Carolina. The two events bracketed the weekend when her birthday would have taken place. I went to the Maryland service, which was held in modern clothing at a local church. There I met Gracie's older sister and her mother-in-law; the latter is a first cousin of one of my high school classmates up in central Massachusetts. How small this planet truly is!

For the cover image of the November issue, I used Baroness Cassair Warwick's photo of the central table at the War of the Wings celebration of life. The table was decorated with flowers, photos, and an urn (probably Gracie's). But I ended up realizing that if I was to get the issue out in November, I couldn't accommodate all the other photos in my stash. So I decided that I will put out a "special issue" about Gracie early next year and keep the monthly Drekkar focused on current happenings, like next month's Yule Revel here in Storvik.

* * * * * * *

Incidentally, my elderly cat, Julia, passed away less than 48 hours after I'd learned of the death of our Baroness. Julia was at least 17 years old and she had been going downhill quite rapidly. To be honest, I think she had been grieving the loss of Nick since last Christmas. She may or may not have known exactly why he went away and never came back, but she certainly missed his presence. And now I miss her presence, as well as Nick's.

* * * * * * *

My lack of posting this year has not escaped my notice. I'm certainly not ignoring the SCA -- so far, in 2025, I've been to 14 in-person events (including Pennsic), two demos, and two virtual events. I've learned a new-to-me type of weaving, and I've explored more music and dance.

Perhaps next year, which will mark the 60th anniversary of the SCA, I should post something weekly, even if it's brief. Even if I just say something like, "This week I attended dance practice and finished editing this month's Drekkar." Knowing that I need to post something might help me get off my duff and do more projects, like making new garb.

 

2025: The year of unexpected change

Many a time I've started off a blog post by apologizing for not having posted for a long time. This time I make no apologies. I want to assure everyone that I'm still in the SCA, but as for other changes in my life ... I didn't ask for them.

Last Christmas -- December 25, 2024 -- I had a really nice day with my partner, Nick. We opened our presents, watched the Disney Christmas parade on TV, and had three great meals, including his family's traditional roast beef dinner with blue cheese sauce. Nick cooked it all. Then, after dinner, he started feeling lousy and ... long story short, he died in the emergency room. He had a sudden large hemorrhage in his abdomen (not his aorta, but another major artery).

Needless to say, his death flipped my world upside down. My SCA friends, from my landlord and landlady (whom I met at my very first SCA event in January 2004) to recent acquaintances, have been completely kind and supportive as I process everything that has happened.

Although Nick and I met at Pennsic in 2005, he stopped playing in the SCA in 2006, if I recall correctly. He was just more interested in watching science fiction on TV. However, he never stopped me from going out to SCA events and activities and having a good time with my pals. Since this blog is supposed to be about my medieval activities, I'll focus on that topic.

In my last post I mentioned a posh, all-day feast called Highland Hearthglow. It was a smashing success, with four well-documented courses of extravagant French dishes from venison to eel pie. (In case you're wondering, the latter tasted like fresh-water fish.) Candles on the tables and a gaming room downstairs added to the medieval ambiance. If you're wondering what the event looked like, go to this page for a slideshow, the menu, etc.

I've kept up with all the SCA events and activities I would have attended had Nick not passed away. I still dance with Three Left Feet and sing with Laydes Fayre. I learned, way back when I was a young adult, about the power of social activities to elevate one's mood during times of struggle. I had been laid off from my first post-college professional job, and I spent the wintertime weeks between that employment and my next job getting involved in the local community theater group, which was staging A Man for All Seasons. I was the "stage secretary," meaning that I made the rehearsal coffee, phoned people who didn't show up for rehearsal, and occasionally stood in for missing cast members. These mundane tasks nevertheless brightened up what would have been otherwise a dreary, depressing time of my life.

Anyhow... Since Nick died, I've been to a baker's dozen SCA events and demos, including Hearthglow, AwesomeCon (the "comic con" for Our Nation's Capital), and Pennsic War 52. I've had to make adjustments, such as sharing a paid pet sitter with my landlord and landlady for the two-plus weeks of Pennsic. (Nick used to stay home and take care of all the cats.) Certainly I didn't sew all the garb I had hoped to create during the winter. The fabric from Dame Brenna's stash is still in my storage unit, and the other fabric I bought during Joann's going-out-of-business sale is still sitting in a large bag under my kitchen table.

At Pennsic this year, I had a generally positive experience. Now, the first week ("Peace Week") was stupidly hot and humid. I mean, the temperature hovered above 80 degrees (F) at 11 p.m. However, I wasn't there for the entire week; I had to drive back to Maryland for a three-day seminar called "Quantum Information for Science Communicators." Why, yes, I really do lead an interesting life! Then I returned "Forward Into the Past" (an old SCA catchphrase) to find that the weather up in Slippery Rock, Pennsylvania, had changed. It was NICE! Lower 80s during the day, 60s at night, and MUCH lower humidity. And, unlike last year, no rain! Huzzah!

Through Pennsic University I taught a class on "circle dances," as I had done in 2024, because my friend Patches asked me to teach something. And when the Dean of European Dance asks you to do something, you do it. 😀 Also at her request, I led the dance portion of the Blue Feather Ball. It's the big social event for Clan Blue Feather at Pennsic. We didn't have too many people showing up for dance practice at the dance tent, but participation was more enthusiastic once we moved the dancing to the Great Hall. The ball organizers didn't have a wireless microphone, so it was a bit hard for me to make myself heard among the general din reflecting off the concrete floor, but I think people had a good time anyway. It helped that I had a good turnout of musicians, too.

On another day, I led a "meetup" (scheduled as a Pennsic University class) of people interested in the Slavic Interest Group. The group was founded at Pennsic in 1995, when the former Soviet Union states were still getting the hang of being separate countries and people in Western nations were just trying out this World Wide Web thing. The group's founder doesn't really play in the SCA anymore, so I would like to try to keep the group going. About a dozen people attended, although one fellow of Ukrainian descent dominated the conversation.

The highlight of my War: my friend Patches was elevated to the Order of the Pelican at Atlantian Great Court on the second Wednesday of Pennsic. The ceremony was outstanding and I am so proud of my friend. Vivat to Magistra Sonya Flicker called Patches!!!

Gains and losses, March 2023

 Happy Day of Restoration of Independence of Lithuania! (Remember, it's the tiny little country with two "independence days.")

My personal life is still somewhat chaotic, most recently because my car was rear-ended at a stop light on March 3. It's somewhat drivable, but without the right rear taillight or turn signal. Also, the right rear wheel well is bent (bad for driving over bumps) and there's an exhaust scent that wasn't noticeable before the crash. This was the LAST thing I needed.

Fortunately, I had already made plans to drive someone else's car (with the owner inside it too) to our Kingdom Arts & Sciences Festival on the 4th. It was the first time in five years that I've been able to attend KASF. Since Laydes Fayre didn't have a scheduled performance, I was free to wander around and admire all the wonderful exhibits and gorgeous garb. Yes, I took pictures, but they're on my non-phone camera, so they haven't hit the Internet yet.

Finally, a personal sadness. Dame Brenna of Storvik was the very first person I met in the SCA. When I started considering getting involved in the SCA in the fall of 2003, I looked up my local branch and noticed that it had a weekly "sewing night" on Thursdays. Since the only requirement for attending an SCA event is making an attempt at pre-17th-century clothing, I thought I'd better show up there and get an idea of what to wear. So one chilly, damp night I knocked at her door and introduced myself and explained why I was there. Dame Brenna and her friends answered my questions and helped me figure out what was acceptable and how to start sewing it. In recent years, after her husband (and the love of her life), Sir Gauss, died, Dame Brenna attended far fewer events. I meant to catch up with her, but a few days ago she passed away. I think she was a bit short of her 69th birthday.

Life is short. Spend time with your friends.

Welcomed to the Pod

Certainly the highlight of my SCA year -- indeed, the highlight of my SCA experience since the beginning of this cruel pandemic -- took place at Storvik's Battle on the Bay on Saturday, September 25.

The weather was GORGEOUS, with clear blue skies and PERFECT temperatures. I arrived on site in plenty of time to set up my chair on the field in front of the Royal pavilion, where the morning courts would be held. Since the theme of the event was "Hannibal's Crossing," a.k.a. the Second Punic War, we were encouraged to dress up like Carthaginians (not that there's a lot of archaeological evidence telling us how Carthaginian women dressed), I tried to approximate what I learned in an online class. I wore my only solid-color chiton or "bog dress," the light pink one I made when Atlantia was honoring the late Duchess Arielle the Golden. I suppose I could have altered it for the event, but I ran out of steam over the last few days prior to the event and figured that I might not ever need another dress from the Second Punic War era again (it's not a common event theme in Atlantia). I did try to drape a darker pink cotton bedsheet around myself as an attempt at a himation. Patches (who gave me that sheet) said that anything I could do with that sheet would up my game. At least I could use it during morning court to supplement the spray-on sunscreen in protecting my arms against the morning sun.

Also, shortly before court, Master Stefan asked me if I would be available to take some pictures with my phone during court. I said yes, but I thought that was a little weird.

The morning featured the final court of Baron Celric and Baroness Ilaria as they stepped down from the leadership of Storvik. Their Excellencies cut fine figures as they handed out their final awards and spoke their final words. They gave back their Storvik coronets and received their personal Court Baronage awards. Then John and Graciela stepped forward to serve as the next Baron and Baroness of Storvik, and they held a brief first court to do a few items of business, such as asking Lady Sonya (Patches) to be their archery champion.

Around this time, it suddenly occurred to me that Master Stefan's wife, Baroness Evelynne, was not yet a Peer. And, sure enough, at the end of all the morning court business, Evelynne was called up before Their Majesties and asked to sit vigil to contemplate joining the Order of the Laurel.

I took photos as best I could from my seat, which was a row or two behind Stefan and Evelynne's seats, just far enough back that I didn't show up on the video of morning court. Then the candidate was led away to the vigil tent, so I hopped up and followed the procession, while trying to keep a distance from the throng of other Laurels so that I wouldn't get in their way. At first I was taking still photos, but then I got a nudge from someone (Stefan? Now I don't remember) and started taking video. (All of this was after the court video cameras were turned off.)

After Evelynne was properly envigilled (is that a verb?), I went back to the Newcomers' Point day shade, as I had promised to watch it while Patches, our outgoing chatelaine (i.e., baronial officer in charge of helping newcomers) went off and did other things, such as teaching a dance class. We had a few attendees who were relatively new to the Society, and I chatted with them. Plus, we had a table of "free for the taking" stuff that anyone could paw through. (Heck, I pawed through it, but none of the clothes and accessories fit me or sparked my interest. I'm wary of bringing home things that I'm not going to use right away for a specific purpose.) I also had a chance to chat with Dame Emma West for a while. (Already a Pelican, Dame Emma was made a Laurel at morning court for her excellent painted silk banners.)

Eventually Baroness Margaret Lad, the Kingdom Chatelaine, came over to Newcomers' Point to relieve me (and cheerfully organize the pile of free garb that people had been pawing through; she does everything cheerfully). That gave me a chance to wander around and greet people and even spend a few moments with Baroness Evelynne in her vigil tent. Clan Cambion, Evelynne's household, was planning a procession into Court for her, but they invited me to join in. Once the procession got to the front of Court, those of us who are not Laurels would simply reverence the Thrones, walk off to one side and go back to our seats. Thus, when the populace was getting ready for afternoon Court, I set up my chair toward the back of the audience so that it would be less obvious that I was getting up to join the lineup for the procession. I ended up sitting next to Master Herveus, who belongs to Clan Cambion, so that I could tell when it was time to leave our seats and line up to follow Evelynne.

As expected, the new Baron and Baroness of Storvik held a court and gave out several baronial awards, and then afternoon Royal Court commenced. Their Majesties gave out a number of grant-level awards, for which it is customary (at least in Atlantia) to call up fellow members of the Order into the Royal Presence to greet their newest member. People who are both Golden Dolphins (service) and Pearls (arts and sciences), like Herveus, had to keep getting up and sitting back down. He joked that it was good exercise.

At some point I started to think, Hey, isn't it almost time for Evelynne's procession? Shouldn't we be lining up? But then I heard the court herald call my name.

My name.

So I stood up and somehow shuffled up to Their Majesties and bowed, probably less deeply than I should have. They told me it would be acceptable if I remained standing instead of kneeling on the padded stools in front of the thrones.

Queen Jane started off by saying something like, "So, you have been baronial herald since 2007," and then I gently corrected Her -- I have not been baronial herald for a few years now, although my actual cutoff date is pretty mushy. So then she started praising me for staying active in heraldry and hospitality. (And I'm thinking, "Huh? I spent a couple of hours at Newcomers' Point, but...") And then the herald commanded members of the Order of the Golden Dolphin.

I bowed to their Majesties again as the populace applauded and various members of the Order approached the thrones. Their Majesties said more nice things about me, asked if there was a medallion, and Dame Emma stepped forward with a shiny Golden Dolphin attached to a lovely necklace of red beads and white pearls. She said it was a legacy medallion in that she had passed it around to many members of the Order before getting it back and giving it to me. She gave me a copy of her statement after she read it.

I was just so overwhelmed. As the crowd cheered and I went to "greet the order," all I could think of was ... Pedro. Pedro, my heraldry teacher, my friend whose wife was so proud of his Golden Dolphin, who should have been a Pelican (the highest-level service award) ... I would have never received this award if he had not taught me so well. I wanted to tell him about it so very much.

My head was spinning so much that I floated back to my chair and didn't join the procession for Evelynne's Laurel ceremony. I enjoyed watching it, though. You can watch the entirety of the afternoon court here.

* * * * *

Atoning for a long-ago joke

Long before I joined the SCA, I was involved with a fellow with a bachelor's degree in physics. I don't want to get into details of that miserable portion of my life, but I will reveal that he would call humanities and social-science classes "basket weaving." It was his shorthand way of putting down those subjects, and I doubt he was the first to do so.

Fast forward to the first week of August ... I went mundane camping with my SCA household, and I made a basket! And it took a fair amount of effort. I wouldn't compare it with other difficult things I've done, like taking graduate-level astrophysics exams ... but still, I had to pay attention to the details of what I was doing.

At first I'd thought I'd missed the basket weaving. One household member, known in the SCA as Faolán, taught the class on Sunday, August 1. However, I'd had other plans for that day and had to do some freelance work during the week, so I couldn't arrive until the morning of Thursday the 5th.

Nevertheless, my friend Johanna had bought a huge amount of basket-weaving supplies in preparation for camping week, and so on she asked, "Who wants to make a basket?" Even though I'd brought other crafty things to do, of course I replied, "I do!"

Now, these basket-making supplies were not in the best shape anymore. After Sunday's class, somebody (unknown, but not Johanna) put Johanna's wet wood and reeds into plastic bags. Trying to be helpful, I'm sure. But the plastic-bagging allowed dark mold spots to start growing on the strips of wood. Oops! Still, we decided to press ahead and weave baskets.

The first step, of course, was to re-soak the basket materials in water to make them pliable. We had to repeat this step many times as we went along, because even on a humid day the wicker starts drying out after half an hour or so. The actual weaving began with a 7 x 7 grid woven to form the bottoms of our baskets. Even though the baskets were starting out square, they would end up being round on top. (Go to your local thrift store to see how many baskets are like that.)

Some images of the progress:

I was amazed at the amount of work that it took to make the basket. Not exhausting work, not filthy dirty work, not intellectually daunting work -- just a lot of attention to the details of what I was doing. Johanna emphasized that we had to keep pushing down the woven strips as we went around and around, and that took some hand strength. At times I had to pause to deal with muscle cramps in my hands -- that doesn't often happen to me. Yet Johanna's advice turned out to be correct and greatly improved the look of my basket.

When I began the basket, I thought it would take just the one afternoon of the middle day (I camped for three days and two nights). But dinnertime came, and we were still nowhere near done. The next morning, I wanted to prioritize packing up my stuff so that my canvas tent could be dry when I dropped it -- I didn't trust the cloudy skies. And, lo and behold, I missed the rain and mostly the rain missed us too. But it still took from just after lunch to just after dinner to finish up everything. And finally we had our baskets!!

In this image, my basket is on the left, Tirzah's is on the right, and Johanna's is in the middle.

The next day, once I was home, I left the basket to dry in the sun. Then I soaked it in a 1:10 solution of bleach and water. That killed the mold spores and lightened the mold stains, which are still there, but much less noticeable. I may apply some sort of finish to my basket, but I haven't decided yet.

So, there you have it, my first basket! In case you are interested, I found a short history of medieval and Renaissance baskets on YouTube.

A few years ago, my friend Teleri gave me a copy of the book Plaited Basketry with Birch Bark by Vladimir Yarish, Flo Hoppe, and Jim Widess (Sterling Publishing, 2009). Apparently, basket weaving with birch bark is very much a Russian thing. I don't really have a source of birch bark, since such trees are less common in Maryland than they are in my native New England, and buying the stuff online would get expensive. Perhaps I could start experimenting with heavy paper or something like that.

At any rate, I have added one more type of craft to the List of A&S Things I Have Tried Since 2004. And never again will I make one of those physics-student "basket weaving" jokes.

A true NOVICE event!

The Barony of Storvik's signature annual event is the Novice and Unbelt Tourney, generally held in June or early July (but not Independence Day weekend). In many years (but not all, depending on when we can rent the site), Novice is the last event at which new fighters can authorize for Pennsic. ("Authorizing" is like passing your driver's licensing test, except for SCA fighting.)

Once again this year, Pennsic isn't being held because of the covid-19 plague, so we didn't have any pressure to get authorizations done, but we did want to have an in-person event after all these months! And June 5 was the very first Saturday after the SCA's North America-wide ban on in-person events expired on May 31.

To get ready for Novice, we did everything the way the SCA higher-ups said we had to: pre-registration only, limited attendance (but bumped up from 50 people to 150 in the last week prior to Novice, yay!), face masks on everyone, no shared food or drink, no feast, no camping, nobody under the age of 18. (I think I've listed all the major restrictions.)

As the day grew closer, I grew more excited to see friends who had been just video images on my laptop's screen for more than a year. Maybe my Baron and Baroness would hold court, although the Baroness had been looking mighty pregnant at the last business meeting. In addition, some folks I know just weren't interested in Zoom-based meetings and were holding off on Virtual Atlantia in favor of the promise of real-life activities. At any rate, I felt sufficiently worried that I would forget something that I staged my gear -- accessories, mugs, chair and cover, whatnot -- on the dining-room table.

Finally, the appointed day (June 5) began and I headed out on the familiar route to the site. For some reason, a section of Croom Station Road was marked "closed." I wasn't sure if it was for paving work or for replacement of a bridge, so I just got on U.S. Route 301 down to Croom Road (normally I take Croom Station Road all the way to the end at Croom Road and then take a left onto Croom Airport Road -- and, yes, the road names are way too similar). When I arrived at the park, my site token (a fancy ribbon strip) was awaiting me in an envelope with my name on it.

But ... no Baron and Baroness. It didn't take long for me to learn why. Apparently the Baron showed up at the start of the event, dropped off all the baronial gear (day shades, the baronial thrones, all sorts of things) and then announced that he was heading to the hospital. Later in the morning he changed the cover photo of his Facebook page to an image of a sign saying, "Welcome to Labor & Delivery Check-In."

So ... naturally many of the attendees of the event spent the day in happy anticipation of the baby boy's arrival (Their Excellencies had revealed the baby's sex/gender a couple of months ago). Many of us were hoping that some sort of dramatic announcement would happen at Royal Court. However, while Their Majesties Anton and Luned noted the absence of Their representatives who hold the Storvik lands, They had no further information on the impending birth. If you want to see what They did do in court, Atlantia has the video: 

The event broke up a bit early because of the hot weather (duh, this is Maryland in June). I tried to help some with the breaking down and packing up. As I went toward the restroom trailer for a last pit stop before heading home, I heard a few voices yelling, "Vivat! Vivat! Vivat!" The Baron had just posted on Facebook that the Baroness had given birth successfully to a fine and healthy boy, well over 8 pounds. The newest resident of the Barony of Storvik!

The baby photos are not mine to publish -- I am always cautious about putting pictures of other people's children on social media. But the little fellow, who was named Ari, looks adorable, and his older brothers, Connor and Braeden, seem extremely pleased to be big siblings. (Notice the naming pattern?) Of course I am thrilled for all of them!

Decisions, decisions

A few of us Storvik residents have formed a small support group to work on the Atlantian Persona Pentathlon for next year.

What, you may ask, is the Persona Pentathlon? It's totally a challenge: create five items that all could have been used, worn, performed, or eaten by a person out of a single time and place within the SCA. But wait -- if you're really good at something, like tablet weaving (for instance), you can't just make five tablet-woven bands and enter the competition. Oh, no! You have to make/bake/perform items from at least three different categories:

• Category 1: Manuscript & Fine Arts (bookbinding, calligraphy, drawing, illumination, painting, papermaking, pigments & inks, sculpture)
• Category 2: Garb & Fiber Arts (beadwork, clothing accessories (including belts, pouches, and fans), clothing/costume, hats, knitting, nalbinding, knotted work, lacemaking, needlework (counted thread or free form))
• Category 3: Glass & Pottery (ceramics, enameling, glass blowing, lamp working, lapidary, mosaic, pottery, stained glass)
• Category 4: Medieval Life (basket weaving, brewing & vintning, cooking, dyeing, furniture making, herb craft, soap making, spinning, toys & games, weaving (full-sized fabrics or narrow bands))
• Category 5: Performance-Related and Writing (lyric composition, masks, music composition, performance (vocal, instrumental, poetry, storytelling), poetry, prose, dance performance and composition, martial arts performance, research paper)
• Category 6: Metal, Leather, Wood & Other 'Hard' Arts (armor, chain mail, blacksmithing, jewelry smithing, iron work, tool making, casting, leather work, wood carving and construction, making musical instruments)
• Category 7: Miscellaneous (heraldic display, horse barding, subtleties, and anything else that just doesn't seem to fit into the other categories)

(Source for the above list.)

One might think that, as a dabbler in many different A&S activities over the 17 years of my SCA adventures, I would find this competition easy as pie. Heck, no! Remember, I dabble, not excel, at many things. I take a class, learn some new method, use that method to make a couple of things, then move on. (I probably have ADHD, though I've never been formally diagnosed.)

Now, I'm crazy about the history of Lithuania, as you probably know. But to figure out five things to do related to Lithuania? Early period (like the experimental archaeologists at Kernave) or late period (like Bona Sforza and her descendants)? What to do, what to do?

Don't worry, I shall let you all know what I decide.

Early 2021 (but still in A.S. LV)

One of the disadvantages of updating this blog so infrequently is that I need to pack a lot of information into each post. After all, despite the surging pandemic, the virtual SCA world, and especially my Kingdom of Atlantia, is still going strong.

Twelfth Night

The weekend of January 9th was Kingdom Twelfth Night, which was the first one I've "attended" (for some value of "attendance") since 2014, when my barony, Storvik, hosted the event. I got out of bed and dressed in time to see a wonderful ceremony in which one of my friends, Mistress Teleri Barod, took another of my friends, Lady Sonya Flicker, as her apprentice. Afterward they had a nice Zoom chat with us guests, including some I haven't seen online much since the pandemic lockdown began.

Their Royal Majesties, Anton and Luned, held morning and evening courts. At the former, They awarded supporters in the shape of a narwhal to 50 gentles who have been helping to keep the Kingdom afloat during these plague times. At the latter, They gave out a number of awards and recognized a new Laurel.

My partner (he's not in the SCA) made some tapas-style dishes for dinner, which was offline. (Yes, it might have been nice to figure out a way to dine "together" via Zoom, but who wants to watch other people chewing?) Finally, we had an evening ball via Zoom, which was not recorded, so we could truly "dance like no one is watching."

I wore garb all day so I would feel as if I actually was attending the event. With a nod to the overall Spanish theme of the event, which features lots of sideless surcoats for women, here's what I chose to wear:

Mistress Teleri bequeathed the wool surcoat to me some years ago. I should lengthen it, because I'm a few inches taller than she is, but I haven't yet found the right fabric to complement the existing garment.

On top of my head in that picture is a frilled fillet cap (styled as in the Manesse Codex) that I created after taking a class on the subject at last September's Virtual University of Atlantia. I made it out of an old (and quite softened) cotton bedsheet, so I applied quite a bit of spray starch to the final product. I fully intend to make another one out of linen.

By the way, I took the surcoat off when it came time to dance.

University of Atlantia

Speaking of Virtual University ... we have another session coming up on Saturday the 13th. Once again, SO many people submitted class proposals that this session will have seven class periods instead of six. Atlantians love teaching and learning!

This time around I'll be teaching "Your First SCA War." I taught this class a decade ago, but I will update information as necessary and I will also stress that I have no inside knowledge of how the current pandemic will change large SCA events in future months or years or whenever we can have them again.

Losses

Even though I haven't been to an SCA event in person since February, I've been keeping quite busy and social within the Society. However, my reports on that will have to wait, because of the heavy losses we have incurred.

First, Baron Rorik Fredericsson, eighth Baron of Storvik. During these last few years, he had been looking increasingly tired, and he suffered from various health problems. At one point, he fell at home and broke eight ribs all at once. Ow. That set him back for a while. He'd also had some problems with slow-healing leg wounds and a tiny spot of a tumor on his liver. When I saw him at the Bright Hills birthday event in February, I asked him how he was doing, and he replied, "Surviving." In one of his last Facebook posts, he said he actually tested *negative* for the novel coronavirus. He needed the test before some surgical procedure (something to do with his stomach).

He went into the hospital for surgery on April 27, and something went south, and he died that day. I believe he was 73 years old.

His Excellency was well known throughout our barony and kingdom and fought in SCA battles for many years. Decades, even. I think he finally gave it up around age 60 when he got his bell rung pretty hard on the Pennsic battlefield. He also enjoyed the gentler art of playing cribbage, an ancient card game. He was also a huge science fiction fan. the first time I ever saw him was at the Millennium Philcon Worldcon in 2001, more than two years before I joined the SCA. He was wearing a Babylon 5 character's costume and was carrying his gray goose puppet, Fred, the one with the studded leather collar. When I did eventually join the SCA, I recognized him and thought, "Oh, that's the guy with the goose from the Millennium Philcon."

Baron Rorik was also that fellow who looked so much like George R.R. Martin that some Game of Thrones fans actually asked him (Rorik) for his autograph. (But Rorik was taller than George.)

Baron Rorik was very happily married to Mistress Janina for 40-plus years and they had a grown daughter and son (who adored him) and many "friends who are like family." My heart has been grieving with them. I often thought that if I could have told my father (who died in 1982) about the SCA, I would have introduced him to Baron Rorik, who could have explained all the different pieces of armor to my Dad (who was a professional welder) and then sat down and played a good game of cribbage together.

Here is a photo of Baron Rorik from the 2015 Storvik Novice Tourney:

It's not the best photo of him, but it was the first one of him I found among my photos when I heard he had died.

Lest you think that my SCA circles had escaped covid-19 ... in late April the family of Master Liam St. Liam of the East Kingdom said that he was in the ICU with the pandemic disease. I kept checking his Facebook page for updates on his progress, but there weren't any.

Who was Master Liam to me? By one measure, he was the first SCAdian I ever met, although neither he nor I had joined the Society way back then. When he and I were both juniors at our respective high schools -- me in central Massachusetts and him in southern Rhode Island -- our schools' bands and choruses did two "exchange concerts," one in our town in April and the other in their town in May. I honestly don't remember as much about the concerts as I probably should, because my grandmother was ill in April and passed away just before the May weekend (and my mother made me go along on the weekend trip, because "Grammy would have wanted it," but I wasn't in a good mood for it).

Many years later, when LiveJournal was still going strong in the United States and I took an interest in the SCA, I started looking up the journals of people who were posting in the SCA-related communities, Liam posted that he'd graduated from a certain high school in a certain year. I inquired ... and, yes, he'd been part of the same band-chorus exchange! So we "friended" each other in cyberspace, first on LiveJournal and later on Facebook. He was a high school history teacher who went back to his first love, journalism, in upstate New York. He married his second wife, who served a reign as queen of the East, and his grown daughters became Peers, one a Laurel and the other a Pelican.

I met Master Liam in person (in the SCA, not high school) only a couple of times at Pennsic, because he was so busy teaching and writing for the Pennsic Independent and doing a lot of other things. But he always remembered exactly who I was and how we'd gotten to know each other.

A couple of years ago, Master Liam suffered a major stroke and had to give up working as a newspaper reporter. He moved to a rehab facility in Massachusetts and still kept on posting on Facebook as well as he could under his own power. Usually his posts were short exhortations to be well and do good. He didn't go back to Pennsic, but he did get a chance to attend the East Kingdom 50th Anniversary celebration in 2018, albeit in a wheelchair.

So he wasn't posting for a while, and then we waited for news ... and then on May 13, his daughters wrote that, while listening to the Dropkick Murphys and his other favorite Celtic punk bands, he passed away. He was 61.

Tributes poured out from all corners of the electronic Known World. One of his daughters wrote an SCA-specific obituary (I was a bit surprised to learn that his registered name was actually NOT Liam St. Liam), and one of his former newspaper colleagues wrote a very nice tribute to him. Other comments pointed out his tireless efforts to support causes ranging from the Special Olympics to high school gay-straight alliances. Someone praised him for his "radical inclusivity."

We in the SCA have had other losses. The first Triton Principal Herald whom I worked under, Baron Eogan mac Alpein, passed away in late May. I hadn't seen him for quite some time, but I think he was in his mid-60s. Then a woman who was on the winning team at last year's Revenge of the  Stitch died of complications from an aneurysm. I didn't really know her, but she was apprenticed to one of our Atlantian Duchesses, and she was young enough to have three school-age children.

The only good way I can end this post is to note that on Friday, May 29, the Dropkick Murphys played a live concert (without an audience) at Fenway Park. The band members even socially distanced themselves around the diamond as they played their greatest hits. I drank a beer, logged into a Facebook "watch party" hosted by Master Liam's daughters, and agreed with everyone that it was the best "virtual wake" we could have had during the pandemic.

From Pennsic, Onward (the year so far, part 3)

This year I dithered about attending Pennsic, but I ended up going for the second week of Pennsic 48. It was the 15th anniversary of my first Pennsic (2004), but only my 12th Pennsic because I've missed a few. It was a tight squeeze to get a week of War fitted in among my freelance writing assignments, but I'm starting to realize that I won't live forever, so I might as well go to Pennsic while I am still "young" and healthy enough to walk around and do things.

This year I did not take a single class at Pennsic University, though I had taken a full day of classes in mid-June at the most recent session of the University of Atlantia. Some Pennsic classes tempted me, but ... I had chores and shopping and chatting with friends who don't live near me in the "real world." Also, I did something I've sadly neglected doing for some years: I volunteered one afternoon at Heralds' Point. I colored device and badge submissions in the art tent and got some free ice cream for my troubles.



I went to a couple of evening balls, although I felt rather awkward at the first one -- not because of the particular dances, but because one of my camp chores was to refill the tiki torches, and my hands continued to smell of kerosene, no matter how much I washed them. I don't think anyone particularly avoided me, though.



The second ball I attended was Lady Sonya Flicker's "Reduction Ball," which started with dances for sets of large numbers of couples and ended up with dances for individual couples. Sonya, also known as Patches, made a new dress for herself, and she also brought along the "BEAR-on" and "BEAR-oness" of Storvik. (The real baronage were unable to attend Pennsic this year.)



While I was packing up my gear at the end of War, I felt rather wiped out. Once I got home (or started my "50-week town run"), I realized I had that kind of chest cold known as the "con crud." I hardly ever get sick, so I wanted to sit around and mope, but I had freelance writing to do.

Now that another Pennsic War is in the books, I'm looking forward to a few fall events. I'm even making a new dress for the next Coronation, which Storvik is hosting. (The dress will be the subject of at least one other post here.)

To kick off the season, Storvik had its first-ever information booth at the Greenbelt Labor Day Festival (which is rather like an old-fashioned fair). Lady Sonya was in charge of our booth, and she did a great job -- we won second place!