Back from walkies this morning, Remembering old days in Trimaris, shire of Sangre del Sol. (This was over a good decade ago. I started there when I was just 18, left at 20… right before the SCA went to poop because of lawyers and snotty fen folk… no more solid combat and too many social politicking. A pity the archive doesn’t go back a greater span) Some of those times were great fun; there’s a lot to be said for full-contact armored combat and learning older skills like bookbinding. The feedback along your arm after smacking someone (properly protected) so hard that they fall down (or better, go airborne) is *very* rewarding.
I have to see if I can find some of the photos from the time… I suspect that they can be found in storage, if they weren’t lost during the purge of ’96. Hmm.. my ribs ache a little just thinking of the training with some of the other guys. (The only time I have any need to pick up a sledge these days is to break up tile or a wall.) I still have a few of the skills left over from that time period…making practice armor, the art of the shield-bash, body strike zones, knowing if a book is put together well and a lot of left over heraldry. The time there eventually just went to being in the Chessmen (ugh.. choreographed pseudo-combat. If I’m going to do something like that, I’ll dance with my sweetheart, not swing a sword. Nice people though… friendly and kind) and attending Renfaires.
Ok, old school dork mode ends.
I slept pretty well last night and had dreams of having some sort of meeting in a school-style room. Rows of desks, with a few people I know surrounding me… a couple of my hippie friends… Some sort of “how-to” seminar, but I don’t know what we were supposed to be learning. I remember gabbing and having a good time though. We had to get the teacher to sign some photos for a project.