#thamesreach

[patrickharrisonphoto]

Thames Reach work directly with homeless people on the streets and in hostels to stop vulnerable people becoming homeless. 7,484 people slept rough in London last year. I’ve worked with Thames Reach for 12 years and their work is more critical now than ever. Client: Thames Reach / Agency: TypeTwo

[originallonemagpie]

OK, done my soft parry auth, courtesy of Ingvar and Genevieve (I noticed she was goin left handedm so mostly went left handed myself - I think that's the first time I've done an auth the other way round, hand-wise...) supervised auths for Bella Donna and Yannick, did a bit of teaching too. Was fun. The noms and drink and stuff.

Now I am stewing in an overhot travelodge, even though it doesn't have heating on...

[originallonemagpie]

So, the weekend was the SCA's Michaelmas Revel. I'd hoped to get in some fencing, and only agreed togo if I was in the tent, after what happened last time with the PTSD thing.) Yeah, welll...

Long story short, the Michaelmas weekend ended up being of those things where I think I was needed to be at, rather than where I needed to be. I did enjoy it though - there was a great feast on Saturday night, and Lesley did a lot of armoured fighting, and passed her dagger auth.

So, Friday, we left early, had a lovely and simple journey down to London. Took supplies to keep the blood sugar right until the travellers' Fare at 7. We ran into Jasper at Bounds Green station and went up to the site as a trio. We noted that, having learned their lesson from last year (when we got there first and hoisted a Pont Alarch standard), Thamesreach had put a banner on the gate this time. Lesley had volunteered to do some kitchen serving assistance, and I'd volunteered to do gatekeeping duties if necessary - just a matter of waiting for the tent to arrive.

So, we carried some stuff in to the kitchens, Lesley put on some chickens to roast, under my supervision of herbs and butter to put under the skin (we did three different flavours) while I took on making an allium-free pottage that had been requsted for some folks arregic to onions/garlic. (A person with a bad food allergy is, I think, a bit more likely to be careful enough) Head cook Patrick then departed to collect fresh supplies. And this is where the plan went awry.

Apparently there had been lots of traffic fuckups in and around London this past weekend, so, by the time the tent arrived, itwas dark, which would make it problematic to put up. Also, the tent pole didn't make it, which made the light or lack thereof a moot point. The traffic also meant the cook didn't make it back to put on the ret of the dinner. So... I ended up making more pottages, directing Lesley put out trays of cheese and celery and stuff.... (On the grounds that if anybody was annoyed that I'd just decided to go off-menu and make soups and stews, well, she's the seneschal of Pon Alarch and I'm just some guy who was in the wrong place at the wrong time, and I could say she made me do it, So I made shit up for a few hours, until the actual cooks returned and finished stuff off. Of course since this meant I was doing a lot more than planned, and didn't get fed when planned, I pretty damn near hypoed myself in the process.

Three bananas and a bit of shaking later, I went on to gate duty, and had a nice time chatting with Eowyn and John of Thamesreach there. It then transpied that the travel chaos meant the visiting Highnesses of Insulae Draconis would be arriving until 2-3 AM, so I stayed up to bring them in, since with no tent and no desire to repeat last year's bunk expereince, I had nothing better to do. After that, I locked up, and watched the local wildlife for a while - a couple of foxes hunting as a pair (one the size of Il Mognificiat Lrenzo, one bigger), and the biggest fucking tiggie-oggie queen I've seen. This was less a hedgehog than a footstool with a pointy face.

So I chilled out on a bench, wrapped in a cloak, then when the sun came out, went to see about doing something breakfasty, so I ended up doing the bacon, while Patrick and Emoni did the rest of the stuff. I'd wanted to take part in Cecily's Free Scholar prize play on Saturday morning, but once Lesley and Eowyn were up and out of their room, I went to lie down (in an upper bunk, in the hope that would work better) about 09:30 and got about three hours sleep. Then I did the usual armouring-up Lesley, got some lunch, was rewarded with beer for the kitchen piracy, and so on. Lesley then went in the fencing tournament and did her dagger auth, but having had a 27 hour day followed by three hours' sleep I did not consider myself to safe to fence. Being sensible. (I mean, I *felt* I could join in, but I *knew* that if I did I would randomly crash in the middle of it. So, I didn't.)

Then came the lovely feast done by Patrick and Emoni and theirstaff - roast beef, chicken sutff, all mannder of delicious and wondrous noms. I also gave Lynette her blinged Heralding baton, and enjoyed the various entertainments of music and storytelling, and had a fun time hanging out withthe wonderful Sela The Barefoot bard, who had done a great song.

Things then took a bit of a downturn when a couple of local hoodies were found on site in one of the halls. They had fled without nicking anything – maybe just curious, or maybe put off by finding dozens of adults in armour and swords ready to chase them – but some people were a little spooked (especially the kids), and there were some interesting words exchanged relating to one of those.

Lesley volunteered us to do the breakfast on the Sunday (since when does the cabin boy get to volunteer the Captain for stuff?), but I'm always up for breakfasty stuff, and said I would. So I did get some sleep that night, and then got up at half past six or so to do the Sunday breakfast. Rather than do just trays of bacon, I did various kinds – crispy and non-crispy – and made it be known that I'd take individual requests for fried/poached/scrambled/omletted eggs, and so on. Apparently we've now been recruited be the breakfast crew for next year. (and I'm up for doing that at any other SCA even I'm at – Yule Ball, for example).

I still wanted to get some fencing in, but there was only cut-and-thrust on the Sunday, and I didn't bring that gear, so settled for observing and a spot of coaching.  Um, what else? Helped Lynette strike her tent, cleaned the oven and range... Once everybody else had gone I helped the camp caretaker bring the archery butts back up.

Our train home was at 20:05, so we left around half past fouror so – easy ride on the Tube back to King's Cross, nice half empty carriage with a table to ourselves. (in between a guy sitting oppositeus had been refused a cup of water to take his tablets with – he'd been down for the cricket, apparently – so I gave him some Diet Coke for them, and it reminded both of us to take ours. All we needed then was no delays with the train, which was due in to Leeds 20 minutes before the last bus back to Wetherby. So of course it was stuck outside Doncaster for 25 minutes due to a points failure. The taxi back cost us our last £30. (There was a beggar outside the taxi rank – for some reason I was still in a generous but practical mood and gave him an unopened bar of dark chocolate to see him through the night. I don't give money, but I do give practical aid from time to time.)

So, we're back, and now I have a head cold, which may or may not be something to do with staying outside all Friday night/Saturday morning... Can I stop being the idiot with a box, passing through and trying to help out, now? I have martial arts to practice, DVDs to watch, writing to... write, and an SCA Privateer ship tp run... (Hm, so, breakfasts by Captain Wolfram's Gourmet Galleon, then?)

[originallonemagpie]

Just back from the Thamesreach Michaelmas Revel. Was... interesting. Didn’t get any fencing done, did a lot of cooking, not sleeping, emergency-stepping-in ,defending of ladies, a little bit of teaching/coaching, swearing at peers of the realm, and so on. Now back, and I can feel a sensitivity in the back of the throat where it meets the nose, which says I’m about to have a spot of whatever the SCA equivalent of con-crud/cold or flu is.