A pause to collect my thoughts.

As the alarm clock coldly demanded my emergence from a warm and comfortable bed, I found myself standing there silently feeling the cold floor beneath my feet. Slowly, the disorientation wore off, as I remembered my name, where I was, who I was, and why the evil alarm clock woke me at what feels like an unnatural time. Looking out the bedroom window, past the scraggly and gnarled branches of the pecan tree, I could make out the fuzzy glow of the streetlights. Everything else, a thick gray haze. The chilly fogbank that settled upon us overnight left everything wrapped in a chilly dampness. “I wonder if it is foggy where my honey is?”, I thought to myself. Paul will be home soon, I remind myself. Yet sadly, I have another quiet morning to face with no one around.

Having finished cooking a hearty breakfast, I wandered over to fetch the morning paper. As I neared the entryway, I moved past a rather large mound of boxes in the front entryway. At first, I couldn’t remember what they were. Then I remembered – Often, when Paul is away from home leaving me to my devices and obsessive-compulsive nature, “The Cleaner” in me comes out. My task this week – tackling the sewing room. Our sewing/computer/project/storage-for-lots-of-crap room has been a major thorn in my side. In the short time that we have actually had a craft room, it has quickly become the repository for “things to be dealt with later.” Even after Giley did some straightening up to make it somewhat usable, it needed a complete overhaul – and that is what it got. Over the past two evenings, I have found myself on the verge of complete overwhelm with the sheer amount of stuff I have gone through. I took not one load of fabric to store in the garage… nor two, nor three, nor four. I took five loads of fabric to the garage. Mind you, the garage is the normal storage place for fabric galore. This was merely the spillover. ACK!

The project took longer than I had anticipated – MUCH longer. I cannot believe it took the better part of two nights to clean up that room. I had vastly underestimated the sheer amount of “Stuff” in that room. Big items, little items, ancient items, half-finished items, no longer useful items, broken items, useful-but-forgotten items, nostalgic items, long-ago-ruined items, etc., etc,. etc.

By 11:30 last night, I finally had a chance to sit down in a neat, stress-free, spacious, clean, and very well-organized sewing/project room. As for the stuff, you should all be proud of me – I fought back my natural inclination to simply purge, purge, purge. If it wasn’t shattered, broken, torn, or otherwise 100% useless, I set it in a box to put in the entry-way. My dear hubby will now have the task to go through what amounts to years of his pack-rat nature. I will TRY to be patient while this happens, but there must also be a deadline lest the piles stay exactly where they are until the second-coming.

Finishing up for the morning, I walked to work in the thick London fog. I needed that moment of quiet serenity to help ground me. Humpday… what would be in store? Let’s see, among other things, my co-worker that I JUST finished training to take on a major task turned in her resignation, dumping said project back in my lap. ARGH! This is the second time this has happened. Heck, I’ve only been around for 10 months, and I have gone through 2 people. FRACK!

I need a vacation. Wait… let me rephrase. Estrella is coming up, which calls for time off. But of course, a camping event in the middle of an Arizona desert is FAR from a relaxing vacation. Oy.

Dishin’ up a bowl of Count Crapula

I’ve had worse days, but today has definitely started off just shy of completely craptastic. Shortly after arriving to work, I found myself limping. No reason – I just have sucky knees as a result of too much 15th century dance (long story!). Today just happens to be a bad-act-up day.

Then, I learned that our new staff person whom I JUST finished training to take over a bunch of contract renewals got a job offer in another part of the county. I’m happy for her, but CRAP! The timing is really horrible. So one of my co-workers and I will now have to split her load so that programs can continue uninterrupted. Then I got a call from my honey – turns out he has to stay in Simi Valley for an extra night to oversee the roll-out of this new system that he designed.

WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!

Well, tonight is yoga. Maybe while I’m stuck in down-dog, I will achieve some sort of internal peace. If my knees don’t freak out, that is.

Time and photos

A lot has happened over the years. A lot of good... some bad... and a tremendous amount of learning.

While cleaning and clearing up in the sewing room last night, I pulled out a dusty old framed photo collage. I remember this one very well, and why I put it away. It is a collage of some very poignant SCA moments I have experienced. I put it away because my ex appears in several of the photos. Enough time has passed at this point that the memories no longer carry emotion - just memories, like watching an old movie.

In photo number one, it is the night before my elevation to the order of the laurel. In the pre-celebratory party, I am pictured standing in front of my laurel. While her back is to the camera, her finger waving in my face shows prominent. That one moment captured our relationship. She was mom - ever the disciplinarian. Glyn, you were the bestest ever!

In photo number two, we stand before King Stromek and Queen Alianore, about to accept the Coronets of Wyvernwood. Despite that whole situation going to hell in a handwoven handbasket a few years later, that moment shone brightly - full of hope and happiness.

In photo number three, we held our first court. Arrayed in matching 9th century Irish (which I made, thank you very much!), we surprised the crowd in that I broke out of the normal mold of 15th century Italian, and shaved off my goatee for the moment. Whoddathunkit?!

In photo number four, my ex sits atop a huge rock outcropping in the carolinas. This was the Native American site that coined the phrase "Sacred Stone", which became the name of our sister Barony. We had just reaffirmed our alliance during a trip to Atlantia. Good times.

And in the final photo, my ex sits arrayed in early Irish near a fire at Craggenowen, in Ireland. It was the perfect Irish early period moment in a reenactment early period encampment just outside of Dublin.

I've had some great moments. Some sad things happened, but they can not and never will overshadow the incredible times. I think it is time to set the photo collage up now. I am proud of those moments. They bring me joy.