It's A Miracle:)

Darling Man not only remembered our anniversary, he actually made reservations. At a restaurant. On purpose.

You must understand that DM does NOT do "reservations." Back when we had two incomes, no mortgage, no car payments and no children, DM flew me to London for my birthday.

Lovely flight.

Lovely scene at Heathrow when I ask him what hotelwe are in and DM replies, "I don't know - I guess we should find one."

Now, darlings....Yours Truly has FRIENDS in London and FAMILY and stared at DM thinking to herself, "Well at least we won't be sleeping in the Tubes..."

DM then anounces that I Should Not Worry, because How Hard Can It Be To Find a Hotel Room in London At the Last Minute?

Gee, sweetie, I don't know........what are the odds of finding an affordable hotel room in the TOURIST CAPITAL OF THE EMPIRE AND A WORLD CITY AT THE LAST MINUTE IN THE MIDDLE OF THE SPRING?!?!

DM looked upon YT as though I were insane.

Now, England being a very civilized country, there exists in Heathrow a kiosk entitled "Tourist Help," wherein a very nice and deeply amused girl found us a hotel room. for about 80 pounds, which Ike that was a sweet deal until I reminded him that at then-current rate of exchange that worked out to $150 per night.

We spent one night there and then *I* found us a better deal in Earl's Court, which is cooler than Mayfair and also much hipper.


Fast forward a million years to last February 14 - we spent TWO HOURS driving around Casselberry because Dm didn't think reservations would be necessary.

For Valentine's Day.

In a tourit town.

So, We were VERY happy with him over the Anniversary as it proves that, despite recent evidence to the contrary, He Can Be Taught!

YAAY!!!

Hugs,
Alysoun

Yours Turly Is Pond Scum

Have you all noticed the lovely and smashing new layout of Birdrants? The graphics, the inside jokes, the glaring Pelican at the bottom??? Hmm, do you?

You can't POSSIBLY think *I* did it....no nono.

Is was SHEEPY!!! SHEEPY who rendered us so spiff and YT was SO busy riffing on Norse Boy that I neglected to thank Her Woolliness.

I Suck.

THANK YOU SHEEPY!!!


Hugs,
Alysoun

EVENING, Captain TriFireNorseFabioMan!

We are your friends. We love you very much. And while we are all medievalists and very busy re-creating the middle ages, WE have managed to figure out how to communicate without running up our cell phone minutes!

GOODNESS, Man! *I*, the Official Luddite of Trimaris, figured out how to do this....YOU passed Fire Shool and all kinds of complicated scary stuff and a LITTLE ITTLE BITTY COMPUTER scares you?!?!?! Man up, Brother....just sayin'.

And if you NEED motivation, just remember that the public and electronic ribbing of your NorseNess will continue until you jump on board.


It's for the best, really. Would *I* steer you wrong???????? Dear Sweet ME?!?!?! Who you love like a SISTER?!?!!? and TRUST?!?!!? Would *I* lie to *you?!?*

Certainly not......

And feed the GunnarBat while you're here, OK? And catch up on all my posts - I am FUN to read.

Much love,
Alysoun

My GOSH it's DECEMBER!!!!

Yours Truly, Darling Man and the Children have a HUGELY busy December. D.M. has his birthday, WE have our anniversary and of COURSE, there also exist Hannukkah, Solstice and Christmas. We do NOT, accordingly, suffer ANY lack of Holiday Cheer :)

So now...where were we...ah yes, the GARB.

We have spent a small fortune on linen and a sewing machine and are pleased to anounce that we can now play the role of both French and Norse nobility with real panache. Now, we must learn How To Line things, so that our Silk budget can also equal the GNP of Chad. After all, we woiuld NOT want the linen to feel left out......Also buying some lovely wool from which to make Appropriate Cloaks. ('cmon LOTTO - Y.T. needs some BLING).

I have determined that I look Spiffily and prettily FAB in Norse and FAB in cotes. Therefore, even my nightgowns will now be in these styles. LOLOL.

Onto the 21st Century for a moment.....

If you have not done so already, being people of Fine Great Taste, RUN do not WALK to the store and purchase the Who's new CD, "Endless Wire." The first new Who in 24 years has been well worth the wait and Yours Truly now finds herself humming "Mike Post Theme" in her sleep. The band is also touring, and reports are that they Sound Marvelous, although Dearest Roger's voice needs more rest than it used to. Well....he IS 62 for heaven's sake.....I have just seen the Sunrise show (11/20/06) and they Kicked Derriere. Yours Truly finds herself again, indecently grateful that they did NOT all die before they got old. (Sorry Pete - you bought that undying reference 41 yearss ago and Are Stuck With It - loveyameanit).

Also, "Tea and Theatre" is simply achingly beautiful and if it does not make you wistful, you have no soul. Pete wrote this as a memento morte for Keith (9/7/78) and John (6/4/02) , and also as a promise to Roger. Listen to it. Listen to it NOW. You will NOT be sorry. Now of course, we must Only Hope and Pray that it is not ANOTHER 24 years before the NEXT new CD......

Back to the Middle Ages:

I REALLY like the way I look in this grab. Sheepy, there remain NO words adequate to thank you for the gift of teaching me to sew. I am but an egg in this skill, but at least I finally made it out of the chicken's...well...you know. :0)

Hugs,
Alysoun

Putting My Foot Down, or How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Machine

So, the weekend before Thanksgiving, our very own Dear Countess SheepyOne took her life into her hands and held MY hand while *I*, yes, ME, measured, cut and sewed (YES - on a MACHINE) my very first ever "did it myself" (with the aforementioned adult supervision) Norse Apron Dress. The Woolly Laurel looked it over and pronounced that it did Not Suck. And performed great and beautiful acts of embroidery upon it.

We feel as though we have finally entered the World of Grownups and owe the Sheep unrepayable thanks for teaching Yours Truly how to FINALLY dress herself.

This coming weekend, I do it without adult supervision. Stay tuned. ")

What I Learned:
1) Sewing machines do NOT, as a matter of fact, JUMP out at you and eat your fingers just because. This DID come as news.

2) If you DON'T put the foot thingy down, no actual sewing takes place.

3) Putting the Pedal to the Metal makes Laurels giggle at you.

4) I can be taught!!!!!

5) Sheepy is even more awesome than originally thought.

6) Turtle Boy has more patience than the entire list of saints in the church calendar.

7) Bobbins DO run out! Who knew?

In seriousness, you all have to know that ever since the Great Sewing Machine Massacre of 1991 (I was attached to the maching BY THE NEEDLE and paramedics had to cut me out), I have avoided learning to sew - a fact that brings no great shock to those who SAW my wardrobe in the ensuing decades. So, to have gotten OVER this, to the point where I am acquiring my OWN sewing machine and am looking FORWARD to this, is an accomplishment in which Sheepy should take great pride.

I, myself, am just relieved to discover that I can still take directions :)

Thanksgiving itself was a much-needed respite of calm, happy family interaction (no, really) and much Good Eats. Yours Truly gave thanks for the usual, and of course added special thanks for the Sheep and Turtle. And the flax plant :)

Much hugs,
Alysoun

The Queen Gives Birth!!!!

Let the Bells Ring in delight that our Gracious Queen, Islay II of Trimaris, has been safely delivered of a strapping, 180 pound baby Boy to lead the Kingdom when She and Martin II are dead and moldering in their graves...Ardion and his lovely wife Lisa will now, in their time, bear the Triskele Crowns!!! YAY!!!

This was supposed to be The Lyst That No One Entered, so of course there were 17 combatants and the Lyst lasted nearly four hours, but who's counting? The rest of the event was blissfully uneventful, but Much Big Fun was had by all - the masked Ball, the peerage meetings...what was not to love?

Subadai is now Subadai Ba'ador, which means for you Round-Eyes out there that he completed his vigil and now takes his place as a Knight. YAYAYAYAYAAYAYAYAY! And the lovely Koshka also completed her vigil, enriching the Kingdom by becoming its newest Laurel. YAYAYAYAYAYAYAAY!

And if that wasn't good ENOUGH, our Own Dear Son, Innis, received his Grant of Arms AND...the dear HL Arsalon WILL be knighted at Giulf Wars!!!!! WE veritably caper with delight.

But the best, the most lovely gift ALL weekend - that jewel of jewels that lent its bright sparkle to the dark heart of despair, that Gift Beyond Measure?

Mittens said Fabio was a "hottie" and if he had to go gay, he was glad that "at least he got a hottie." thank you, Sheepy, without you, such a jewel would have remained dark, thank you thank you thankyyou.

I die happy....

Much hugs,
Alysoun

Honor

Chivalry got me thinking . How is honor best described? Is it the same as integrity, or a function of integrity?

We say of those who keep their word that they are honorable to do so.....but what if the word they keep is to do harm? Is there honor still in a promise unbroken, no matter the promise?
Who decides?

I believe it is almost like the Supreme Court Justice who, speaking of pornography, said that he could not define it, but knew it when he saw it. While I would not equate pornography with honor, I do believe the the Justice had a point...

We recognize the honorable when we see them... So, when we see them, what IS it we see that leads us to conclude that honor is in them?

Just as with our musings on chivalry, these matters have been much on my mind lately.....I have seen much honor done recently. I have seen other gentles convinced that honor demands they engage in the willful harming of others. I don't get it.

Those gentles I perceive as honorable are those who keep their word, who keep their oaths, who also do this keeping with as little damage to the feelings of others as they can manage. However, is the second half of that sentence a qulaity more akin to gentility or courtesy than Honor?

It boggles the mind some days - especially this one.

Crown Lyst approaches and many brave people will take the field for, among other things, Honor. For Honor.......lay on. The Field of Honor....Honorable combat. For the honor of their consorts. The consorts are reminded to be worthy of the honor done them.

For the rest of the crowd, who will neither be fighting nor being fought for, I think honor is in paying attention to the honorable combatants - and not sniping at them for decisions on the field we think we may have made differently. There can be no honor in that, most assuredly.

The winners are honored not only by the bright new shiny metal coronets plonked on their heads, but by the sight of the populace showing support and not grimacing...the losers laughing in relief that THEY are spared the Metal Rounds of Doom instead of lamenting their loss in public.


Higher honorable acts, of course, abound in private - where hearts are mended by kind words, no advantage taken of the weak and no harsh or immoderate words belittle the reputations of those not present to defend them. Perhaps honor is also seen in THAT - the *conscious* absence of harmful actions - the Holding of Tongues bound together with the outreaching of hands.....

See you Sunday,
Alysoun

Chivalry

I was musing on chivalry last night and determined that it is SO far from dead that I could sleep easy on this issue forever.

Earlier, I had the occasion to be the recipient of not only much chivalric behavior, but true gallantry as well. A dear friend finds himself between a rock and hard place and has come to the only decision that Honor can allow. He did this while insuring that my own feelings are all good and safe and protected and my *own* honor in excellent hands.

This was no mean feat, as Yours Truly was possessed of much hurt feelings, a badly bruised heart and had been leaking odd salty substances from the eyes for much of the week. The pure chivlary shown me last night did make it Much Better. That is a rare gift in the world at large, BUT, we say with much True Joy, NOT so rare among those we dearly love.

The cool thing is, this is ROUTINE BEHAVIOR on his part, and on the part of other men I know and well love. Yours Truly teases Norse Boy and Mittens unmercifully, but.....the truth? There are no finer men on the planet. They are true knights and I just want to make sure everyone knows that.

Hugs,
Alysoun

My, How Time Flies!

When last we spoke, Yours Truly had returned from Village Faire, awash in the warm afterglow of Medieval Muppetry.

Since then we have: attended Panhandle (BIG fun had by ALL); survived the post-Panhandle I-10 Hurricane and Flood Watch (NO fun had by ANYONE); sewn up a surcoat and survived a NearDeathExperience involving Amanda's brakes deciding to go on leave without so much as a memo or email.

Details follow:

Panhandle Skirmishes; A fine, fine event....much revelry both nights in the company of old friends We Do Not Get To See Often Enough, and sweet bardics. Yours Truly "fenced" until the shoulder was slightly injured and was acutally witnessed Sleeping In a Tent. Voluntarily. Dear Mooboy still hasn't fenced me, though...hmmm...

The I-10 Hurricane Party: Apparently, in a valiant attempt to make up for a lackluster season, all the rain you normally get in a Cat 1 storm fell on I-10 starting approximately 45 seconds before the clsoe of the event and ending 45 seconds after we all turned onto I-75. I can now Officially Say that I Will Never Suffer a Stroke, because if that ride didn't do it to me, mere clogged arteries stand NO chance...

Sewing Surcoats: Sweetsheep and Jilll1 have taught Yours Truly how to sew. So, of course, I have butchered VERY expensive velvet in the process. You see, when we measured out the pattern for the surcoat, Yours TRuly was possessed fo significantly more line-backer qulaity shoulders than we currently possess. So the SURCOAT is very off-the-shoulder. Greart sexy look, but not for the 14thc.

Luckily, I was buying our bolts of the stuff, so it CAn be re-cut and sewn properly tonight. Under adult supervision.

Also, brakes that don't work are Not Fun. But, Moi and the Boy made it home safely anyway and Darling man is fixing the brakes as we speak, to the tune of $800. How was YOUR month?

Coming Soon:
The Great Martinmas Moot Parade of Peers

Much hugs,
Alysoun

THE PUPPETS WERE NOT MY FAULT!!!

OK...Maybe the PRESENTATION involving SOME of the puppets were my....doing...but Sheepy over there...SHE is the one who MADE the things!

Ah..Village Faire...the SCA at its purest - NO business meetings, MUCH fun, far too many idle Peers with NOTHING BETTER TO DO than torture the Missing.

Picture it.

Mittens - A DUke, Knight, Don and dear friend.....reduced to a cowprint joke in a tabard.
Fabio - A Duke, Knight and dear friend - hidden in his Superhero guise, generally cliueless expression intact.

Others bit it as well; Her GRace Elspeth, the Baron Thallaabi, the Baron of An Crosaire...Count Yoan...the list goes on. Much giddy fun was had by all and there were ACTUALLY some NEWCOMERS in attendance.

Then, there was Marshmallow War, or, The Fued of Fluffy Goodness (tm)

At feast, the populace was "encouraged" (and by encouraged we mean HEAVILY ARMED BY THE staff and FORCED to stare at the ammo) to toss the marshmallows at the Royals and Barional Nobles as they processed into feast..

It MAY have gotten a bit of hand....Yours Truly was finding marshmallow bits everyhwere about Our person: inthe coronet, the hair, the bodice...the Drinking Mug, which brings us to...

The Great Linen Hem Disaster of AS 40!!!!

Yours Truly has a lovely green linen backlaced gown that looks very, very good on Us. It sways, it flows, it gives us the Illusion of a Waist......

And it also gives a home toANTS....the hem of this treasure was COATED in spent sugar ammo and was STICKING to itself....it is all better now, but now We have to re-hem the thing...

Ah well...it was truly lovely to get to participate in the kind of event one reminisces about for years - NO high drama, much Great Fun and dear friends who also shared in the delight.

Off to Panhandle....
Alysoun

Fang, R.I.P.

So, anyway, when Yours Truly separated from her Starter Husband, she left the cats Gloria and Spot in his custody...

There We sat, alone in our new apartment, no husband (yay) and no cats (bad).

Yours Truly worked at the federal courthouse in Miami at the time and there was a judge's secretary who rescued stray cats. A couple of weeks after I moved out on the S.H., secretary called and asked if I was still interested in a new cat...I said yes.

I went to the judge's chambers and there was this......microball....of black fluff. Baleful
green eyes surveying the domain with pure feline contempt.

This little baby, aged about 5 weeks, was the sole survivor of Miami traffic that had taken her mom and litter mates. She fit in the palm of my hand with room left over. If she had been bald, she would havev been mistaken for a mouse. NOT a rat, a MOUSE. We are talking TINY.

By the time I arrived upstairs, this microkitten had:

1) Bitten the judge;

2) scratched the Courtroom Deputy;

3) Peed in the xerox machine; and

4) hissed and bristled if anyone THOUGHT about approaching her.

I was told all this AFTER the following ensued:


Then she saw me.....focused right in on that large, goldplated "SUCKER" insignia on my forehead....they handed her to me....gingerly.


I sat down on the comfy couch (all judge's chambers have comfy couches), and she promptly kneaded herself a bed in the top folds of my blouse and fell asleep.


Purring.

I was SO played....took her home, and named her FANG, because...well....she was SO TINY and CUTE....

She also rarely ever again PURRED. In fact, her purring was So rare that instances of it were legitimate excuses to hang up the phone on anyone.

Fang hated everybody and everything - my subsequent cats, neighbor's dogs, air, me, the Spouse....the sons, tile, rugs, sunlight, darkness and the occasional lizard.

The groomers had standing orders to sedate her before grooming. We know she never had rabies because she alone would have been responsible for an outbreak across three counties.

She DID have an express fondness for spaghetti, though....

She would rub up on visitors, give them the Face and the Silent Meow and then, when they reached down to pet the Dear Little Thing....she would BITE them.

She never got very big and really did love me, honestly. She would spend her evenings, after a hard day of separating out the SPouse's clothes from the hamper so she could pee SPECIFICALLY on the SPOUSe'S clothes, curled up on my head, licking my eyebrows.

I chose to see this as a sign of affection. Darling Man maintained she was taste testing me.

Anyway, she was Quite the Character and people did indeed stop by the house to see HER, NOT Us.

She saw us through: moves to Cocoa Beach, Greensboro, Orlando, Casselberry - four apartments, one house, one husband, 2 boyfriends, 2 sons, 2 pet rats, 5 jobs, a handful of death threats and countless bad fashion choices. She was uncuddly and indifferent to human suffering.

When we came home from the Occasion of Our Elevation to the Order of the Pelican, she waited for me to put the medallion on the dresser. When I was in the bathroom, she dragged it into the litter box.

After a long and fruitful life of commenting on the inferiority of the rest of us, the Girl developed a very rare blood infection that caused her body to turn its own fat into soap.

Go ahead and laugh, all who knew her thought it should have been a Pillar of Salt.

We spent weeks carrying her from her food to the litter box, as she quickly became unable to walk herself into it. But, being held by Yours Truly did give her comfort, and she continued to sleep well with her soft scrawny back pressed into Our belly.

Then, on October 8, 2003, when We picked her up for the night, she screamed in pain. I knew it was time and on October 9, 2003, We put her down. Yours Truly does occasionally feel as theough she murdered Fang, but logically, we knew that when even the possibility of scratching Us in her sleep could not ease her pain, she needed to go....

I have not stopped missing her and she has been especially in my heart today - I dreamt of her last night and she did, indeed, groom my right eyebrow (which apparently tastes better than the left), and BIT it...We were quiet surprised to find no scar this morning...except the one on Our heart.


Fang died on John Lennon's birthday. Bit the vet tech as he prepped her for the Shot :))

Miami, June, 1991 - Casselberry, October 9, 2003.

Furrily bereft,
Alysoun

It's the MOST WONderful TIME of the Year...

So, it is OCtober - the month that makes Floridians of all Northerners and at which point the State is at its best. The weather is not-too-hot and not-t00-humid during the day, the nights are cooler and crisp, the sky is bright bue, the bugs have mostly gone on vacation.

Visitors come here in October and decide to stay, putting an undue stress on the environment, our schools and our roads.

So, A Modest Proposal:

We BAN non-residents from Florida until Thanksgiving. Also, should anyone express a desire to move here, either by attempting to rent or buy a dwelling, looking for work ,etc., we make them spend AUGUST here, first.

I predict a marked decrease in our congestion :)

In Other News....

Trimaris and Yours Truly begin their dazzling interaction in earnest come the 13th, which date will fund us happily ensconced at Village Faire, teaching much fun newcomer stuff in tandem with SheepGirl.

Watch this space....

hugs,
Alysoun

THE RETURN OF THE DARLING MAN and
NOT-SO STUPID FINS!

So, Darling Man returns to us safe and mostly-sound from this sojourn at Our Nation's Capital. Two weeks bereft of the love and support of Yours Truly, and what token of the high esteem in which we are held does he bring?

Chocolates?

FLowers?

Yours Truly's favorite DC Treat, freez-dried Astronaut Ice-Cream?


Nay.

A box of Maryland Crab Soup Mix.

(le sigh).

Darling Man is NOT possessed of a single romantic gene in his body. He is currently very, very lucky that he is Good With Children and kills Bugs with great efficiency. just sayin'.

But, but but but...there is LIGHT in this Tunnel of Unromantic Gestured Doom, yes there is!!!

Our Darling Fins, the Only Team That Matters, finally WON a game!!! YES!!!!! We are 1-2 for the season, can the Big Bowl be far behind....

Granted, it was One Ugly Win, but we will take it, love it and run with it.

As for Darling Man, well....one day We are convinced he will learn that Loves of One's Life must also be occasionally convinced that they Inspire Romance. or he can eat the actual BOX wherein the soup mix was contained.

Much hugs,
Alysoun

STUPID FINS!!!!

It is to weep...Our dear, dear Dolphins, adrift for yet ANOTHER YEAR (32 and COUNTING)...Do we blame Nick Saban? Daunte Culpepper? The failure of the No-Name Defense to have cloned themselves for future use?

Nay, Dear Readers, we blame the World Football League.....The Fins, coming off back-to-back Super Bowl victories in 1973, including that magical undefeated season of 1972, were in a position to establish a dynasty of Championship years.

And then...the Canadians exacted their revenge for Yorktown and wooed Larry Csonka, a veritable Championship MACHINE..who offered to stay with the Fins if the Robbie family could come up with $2 million extra dollars. The Robbies refused to pay and alas, All Was Lost.

Canada can kiss Our....anyway. Not even the ignomious defeat of the Bucs can ease this broken, marine mammalian heart of Ours. One day, ONE DAY, Yours Truly will again be bedecked in Orange and Aqua as the Team takes the Super Bowl field...

OF course we will be so OLD that we won't know WHY....and will think we are going to SEAWORLD, but still...

Oh, and Note to the Late Joe Robbie: Sir, the FANS would have raised those $2 million....

Hugs and grumbles,
Alysoun

People ARE Wonderful...I Have Proof

So, as you know, Precious Amanda was out sick with a bad catalytic converter and Yours Truly had to rent a behemoth tank until the A was better.

Well, we drove the A to the muffler man (Dave) and delivered the Girl to him at 8:10am. Received phone call from Dave at 10:10am advising me that the Amanda was all better and I could come get her.

I did so...Dave then informs me that he made a HORRIBLE error and that my car is actually still under warranty and I deserve to be reimbursed by the dealer. He gave me the names, the forms, the advice....AND Amanda goes VROOM VRROM Again...the angels rejoice, yea verily do they jam out.

Then, had Darling Girl follow me to the rental agency so Said Tank could be returned. They declined to charge me for gas. They also took 15% off the total bill due to the emergency nature of the repair to Amanda. I did NOT ask for any of this largesse...they offered.

SO, on the Happy List go Dave, Mufflerman, Jessica, Enterprise Rent-a-Car and my boss, as always, for not caring about the time away from Desk.

Much hugs,
Alysoun

Wednesdays Do Not Move Me

But, they do occasionally prove interesting. Darling Man is safe in DC, and our own Dear Amanda is safely at the mechanic's. Unfortunately, mechanic #1 cannot save her. So, at great risk to our own structural integrity, Yours Truly will be "driving" Amanda to another mechanic who CAN fix her. We use quotation marks around "drive" because it takes the Dear Thing 20 minutes to get to 30 mph.

It appears that the Dear Thing has clogged her catalytic converter (too many cheese fries in that high-test fuel) and needs a new one. The GOOD news is that it is not her transmission. This makes us quite glad, as Amanda the First died a premature death at 183,000 miles due to a dead transmission.

Now, one may ask oneself what fuel-efficient, normal-sized vehicle did Yours Truly reserve from the Rental Agency of Doom? A compact and/or midsized sedan.


What did that R.A.D. actually HAVE AVAILABLE for your 5'1" Writer?????




A Chevy Trailblazer.....Sherman Tank with AC. We need a step-ladder to enter it and are SO CLOSE to the steering wheel that we had to turn the nice air bag OFF.

Darling Boys are much amused - the oldest, of course, climbed right in. Literally. Thought out the most efficient route and handholds from the ground to the passenger seat and flounced on in. WHY this route involved stops on the maple tree and the roof of the car, We Shall Never Know.

Darling Younger Boy had to be (a) hoisted up by me and (2) dragged in by Darling Boy.

This is One Big Transport!

Further proof we live in Cartoon World? The radio was pre-set to the local indie rock station, which was playing "Evolution" when we turned it on....

Random Thoughts:

Bob Dylan is Evil. Darling Man left us his CD of "Blood on the Tracks," thereby making it impossible for us to listen to anything else, INCLUDING the Who's new EP.

"Tangled up in Blue" and "Meet me in the Morning" are two of the Best Songs Ever....and Mr. D does not even LIKE this record of his very much.

Mr. Arlo Guthrie recently accused Dylan of eating up all the GOOD songs out there and pleaded, "Come on Bob, throw the little ones back." Truer words, etc.

This being Wednesday, all Dear Readers are begged to purchase Blood on the Tracks and weep that such genius even still breathes. Then go buy Dylan's new CD and be glad for reasons same.

The Who EP (Wire & Glass) is only available as an import, but the new album ships 10/31/06. Buy it, if just to understand what the bejeezsus I will be blathering on about on 11/1/06.

Much hugs,
Alysoun

Bird ABANDONED!!

'Tis true - Splendid Man is flying to Our Nation's Capital tomorrow for work -realted Gigging of the steel-building variety. Yours Truly will be bereft, nay desolate, for two weeks. No Spouse, both sons, and did we Mention that the Amanda-mobile may needa new transmission?

We are not loving this part of September so much. The Dolphins lost their season opener, which is not really NEWS, you understand, but disheartening nonetheless.

So, dearies, we shall be cranky, overtired and anxious about money and the NFL for a few weeks.

Strategy for dealing with this? Much Chick Flicks and Horror Flicks, vodja and best friends. Darling Girl will be visiting for a few days and she will at least contrive to keep us from falling over dead *too* soon.

A word about Darling Man travelling.....Dearest is a Midwestern boy of Ashkenazi descent. LOOKS like a member of the Taliban. Will be flying to Our Nation's Capital on 9/11/06. In the morning. WE are starting our virtual chain smoking NOW and will end it come a call that all is well and no FBI searches were necessary.

Pray for Amanda...Yours Truly loves her Malibu and wishes it to be well. Yours Truly and Darling Man are also NOT made of money and wish to NOT pay for a new transmission.

Other than that, all quiet on the Trimarian front.

Off to bed, love and kisses.

Hugs,
Alysoun

With Friends Like These..
(Muttered Commentary from the Post-Coronation Sleep Zone)

So, dears.....First, having been proven right again about Tropical "storm" Ernesto, we return this delightfully funny, apparently read by more people than I originally thought (hi, Fabio - how you doin'?) blog to its lighthearted Mission in Life: Making With The Funny. RIGHT after some serious stuff about the loss of a dear friend.

First, it must be said that one does not normally associate personal tragedy with any kind of a nice time, but Irish wakes are different, Irish Scadian wakes doubly so. Earl Brendan (in all seriousness one of the finest human beings to walk the Trimarian earth) died suddenly several weeks ago. The official Trimarian wake was held this past Saturday night at Coronation and it was all the Good Things wakes should be: Good alcohol, better friends, fab stories real and imagined about the Brendan; real tears and no small amount of laughter. I wrote something to read at Brendan's wake, but it got left on a computer and did not make it with me to the event.

Here it is:

The Circle (a reading for Brendan)

How many circles did you complete, here where grief still stalks us?

The circle of your family, those most beloved of yours;
The circle of knights, for whom you stood as the purest example;
The circle of friends, who are also your family.

Yet, even in grief, these circles do not break.

You would be proud of us, Brendan, to see us today:

Your family, though they move through the world with broken hearts,
hold each other in a closer embrace,
and in it have forged a stronger circle;

The knights not even I can worry about -
their circle was forged for moments like this,
and the chain that binds them now is yours;

Your friends....well, we are here tonight, in a circle built around you,
telling stories and crying.
But, we have not forgotten how to laugh, either.

And in that laughter we best feel your embrace,
and our circle, your circle, remains one whole:
One circle for all that you still are.

(au revoir)


------
Coronation itself was a fabulous thing: The new Crown, Martin & Islay, ascended the throne in a very moving and funny ceremony and many Deserving People received awards...including 3 pelicans, one laurel and one knight. 5 Peers-to-be and all with great conviviality and delight and much whopping applause from a happy, happy populace. It was one of those Moments so many of us speak of...an event where everyone got along with everyone else, no acrimony besmirched the air and the concepts of Honor, Courtesy and Chivalry were upheld without anyone having to break a sweat or apparently even biting their tongues too hard.

I was going to blame it on Prozac in the drinking water, but Fabio rightly pointed out the concept that the death of Earl Brendan (how hard still to write THAT sentence), the death of Scout and the near-death of another friend may have actually pounded through the thicker-skulled among us that LIFE IS SHORT and what's IMPORTANT is NOT whose garb looked prettiest, but that people WANTED to make garb so they could be with People They Loved. Please mark this date on your calendars: Fabio was *right* and *I* was not. (loveyoubigguymeanit).

There was *supposed* to be something funny here....

Ah!!

Here it is:

The Adventures of Captain Trimerica and Bat Girl.

Now, hard as it may be to believe, yon Fabio has really not been picked on much by most Trimarians. That privilege has heretofore been reserved unto his household, me, sheepgirl, runnergirl, the other knights, dukes and Southerners...

OK so maybe he got picked on a lot before.

But never about the Captain Trimerica thingy.


For reasons that surpass understanding, which I blame on the dark, the Guinness at the wake and Fabio himself, I shared with him the story of me and Adelhaid and the Black Bats that used to fly out of the mouth of Yours Truly with alarming regularity.

You know, as opposed to the Fine Example of Restrained, Sober and Dulcet speech for which I am now much renowned and revered Kingdom wide.

We will now pause while you clean your keyboards.




that's ok - grab some more coffee....



that's it...

Anyway, Fanio found this SO ENTERTAINING that he decided EVERY superhero needs a sidekick. Hence, His Selfness designated me, your Abused and Long-Suffering Yours Truly....

Bat Girl.

Which would not have been SO bad had not one of my "friends," a "protege" and clan "brother" CALL FABIO UP and find out if it was OK with Norse Boy if they made me a costume. With my very own short cape purchased from the store that specializes in Hobbit Sizes.

Did Mr. Example Of Chivalry position himself at my back, ready to defend my dignity against this assault? Well of COURSE he didn't - gave his consent pronto and has now taken to humming the theme from Batman into my phone...le sigh.

No doubt a musical version of this abuse cannot be far behind, and my revenge will certainly follow quickly.

------

And we got to spend MORE time with runnergirl, the NEWEST Borg and member of the Continuum, and I am not even sorry about all the belt-yanking I inflicted upon her, as it made ME laugh lots and HER giggle. The Queen was also much amused, which is a Good Thing of Martha Stewart-like proportions. Ran a fine list, did runnergirl...

------

And now about Sheep Girl...

Who, did she not, looked beautiful beyond my own short capabilities in her bliaut (hand-sewn) and Best Hair Ever....engaging in many Appropriate Peer-like activities and lookin' good all the way around. We hate her. She is smart and beautiful and perfect and a true, loyal-unto-death friend and sister, funny, and kind to small animals. We HATES the sheepgirl and wants her garb. And hair.

ANYWAY....Sunday we had decamped with Sheepgirl and the Turtle to attend "Lots-o-Cooked-Meat" night at a local eating establishment, in order to discuss privately the Weighty Matters of The Day (Star Wars v. Star Trek; Yours Truly: Hobbit or Troll). Which was the plan until the lovely and talented Earl of Far Too Good Looking for Us to be Married and his wife, the Lovely and Funny and Smart Girl of Cute, joined us at the next table. As did the Fab Horse Duo: Mr. M and the C.

So of course you understand that I *had* to use Sheepgirl's braids to instruct the assemblage in proper Rein Position/Control and Seat Techniques. Yes, IN the restaurant..KEEP UP here. She was a very recalcitrant horse and we had to use spurs on her to get her to even understand the most basic of steering instructions. She bit me. BAd horse...no beer in the bran for YOU....

The Minister of Horse was impressed with Yours Truly's technique, and concluded Officially that I Had Nailed It. I will need to authorize on Sheepgirl at the next equestrian event and make sure her Coggins tests are all negative.

After years of abuse you must understand that there was SIMPLY NO OTHER RECOURSE than for Yours Truly to repeat this performance at Bardic.

Sheep Girl loves me for this and has promised that I may use her braids for demonstration any time I may so feel the Urge... I am so lucky. The bite Sheepy inflicted has almost healed now and I am *sure* that her braids will grow back quite quickly.

So, to summarize:

Brendan: Well-loved, forever missed.

Yours Truly: wordy beyond belief. STILL right about the weather. Good with horses and leather straps. Also braids. Not so much with the fencing, but not bad for a beginner...

Fabio: In it deeper.

Runnergirl: currently determining whether helping me or "helping" me will get her the most laughs.

Sheepgirl: still blonde.

Trimaris: Better, stronger, faster...a veritable 6 Million Dollar Man of a kingdom.

Peers: More of them.

Must run dearies.....laundry is done and so am I.

Hugs,
Alysoun

UNBELIEVABLE!!!!

So, for a TROPICAL STORM packing MAXIMUM winds of 45 mph, which will make landfall on the SOUTHERN TIP OF FLORIDA, the Seminole County School Board is closing tomorrow "for the storm."

I shake my feathered little head in stunned, annoyed disbelief. For those of you who do NOT know the geography of Florida, here is what the NIMROD FEAR MONGERS of local weather are telling us is going to happen:

A Tropical Storm which MAY get as strong as 60mph will impact the southern tip of Florida (probably the SE corner - Miami). This Evil Horrid Gigantic Leviathan of Wind and Rain will NOT LOSE ANY STRENGTH OR SPEED while it travels through: Monroe County, Dade County, Charlotte County, Broward County, Palm Beach County, St. Lucie County, Indian River County, Osceola, Orange County (a distance of 263 miles) and HIT US with the SAME 60 mph at which it came on shore.

This. Is. Not. Physically. POSSIBLE. THIS storm doesn't even have a well defined center of circulation, didn't when it hit Cuba, still doesn't.

Even Hurricane Charlie, which devastated Port Charlotte as a Cat 4 and ZOOMED through the state at HIGH SPEED and WAS very well organized, had downgraded to a Cat 2 by the time to flew RIGHT OVER MY HOUSE.

So, the local weather fear mongers owe me $165.00 for a day's lost work (I am OUT of leave time) and an apology when a BAD storm, with GUSTS of up to MAYBE 40 mph rattle some of my trees.

Darling Man is equally appalled that you can live in Florida for more than one year and NOT KNOW the FIRST RULE of circulating storms and NOT get sued for SCARING THE HELL out of people for no reason.

This backfires, because when Ernesto does not "devastate" us, and when the local fools keep preparing us for "devastation" over TROPICAL STORMS THAT DON'T LAND RIGHT ON TOP OF US AT FULL SPEED, residents stop listening to valid, real warnings for really bad storms.

This happened in 1992. For nearly 30 years, the local media in Miami went into Apocalypse Mode for EVERY tropical storm/hurricane that reared its head, INCLUDING ones where the FAR WESTERN EDGE of the storm was projected at 50 miles EAST of the mainland.

NONE of these storms, from 1966 through 8/24/1992 hit. So, when ANDREW came around, a really dangerous, catastrophic Cat 5 that took the ROOF OFF OVER MY HEAD, no one paid attention. They had been scared silly for no real reason for SO long, that no weather forecast of doom had any credibility.

SOMEONE needs to get on camera and tell local residents the TRUTH:
1) Hi! A tropical storm is going to make landfall in South Florida sometime later tonight. It will hit the SOUTH with est. winds of at least 45 - up to 60 mph. Now, since tropical storms and hurricanes lose strength as SOON as they make landfall, we here in central Florida, who are hundreds of miles NORTH of the estimated landfall, can expect:

2) Sustained winds of 20-30 mph with occasional gusts up to 40 mph, on the southwest edge of the system.

3) Rain. Lots of it.

4) Most residents of the broadcast area will experience NO power outtages, although there may be fluctuations during the stronger gusts.

5) make popcorn, turn on HBO....



Shame on them for NOT doing so.

Still waiting for common sense to rear its head somewhere.

hugs & grrs,
Alysoun

Calm DOWN!!!

Tropical Storm Ernesto is NOT a sign of the Apocalypse.
A storm that hits the EVERGLADES as a Category one Storm CANNOT, UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES KNOWN TO METEOROLOGY, REMAIN A CAT 1 263 MILES NORTH, IN ORLANDO.

The local "news" media should be spanked hard, in ways they would NOT enjoy for yet again pandering to the ratings boost of fear by putting LARGE "1" signs from the Everglades through St. Augustine. They are stupid, pandering, ignorant, fear-mongering JERKS who should have their licenses to broadcast revoked.

Look, Hurricane Charlie came on shore as a Category 4, moved HARD and FAST through the state, and hit Orlando as a Category 2.

SO.

THINK for a minute......HOW ON EARTH will a Cat 1 storm REMAIN one over land?

Answer: IT CAN'T.

This is but one reason I have ignored local news outlets for 10 years. They know NOTHING and are relentless in their perverse desire to scare people into watching them.

Shame on them.

**we will return to our regularly scheduled humor later**


Hugs,
Alysoun

Fire Festival

Greetings, especially runnergirl (I KNOW WHO YOU ARE NOW - MUAHAHAA) and Steel Wool.

Back from the Surprise Party. A Dear Friend has graduated Fire Academy, received his state certification and lost 150 pounds of Evil Wife. Certainly cause for much celebration all the way around. Anyway, much fun was had by all, many thanks to runnergirl for being such a nifty hostess and a shout out to Jill1 for keeping me awake on the long ride home.

So...you know those lovely, handsome, brave & strong FireFighters upon whom we count to Save Our Lives and Property when disaster strikes?

COMPLETE NUTTERS, ALL of them.

Now, Runnergirl had arranged a lovely party, grilled meat, nice salsa (sorry again, btw - will aim the bottles differently next time), much nifty snacking and of course BEER. Lovely cake brought by firefighter buddies of the Dear Friend featuring a crashed motorcycle on fire.

Fine.

Then...the evening's entertainment.

Firefighters. Ladies and Gentlemen trained in the art and science of fire, LIGHTING SMALL WOODEN TOY HOUSES ON FIRE with TORCH FUEL...OUTSIDE where NORMAL PEOPLE could see...and then having contests as to whom could put them out First. Fabio won all rounds, although the last round featured a Wooden House that was still merrily on Fire. So HOW did the 4 trained firefighters present DEAL with the burning house???

Did they MOVE the bottle of torch fuel?

Did they DOUSE it with the HOSE??

....

...

No.

They played soccer with it.

I am SO relieved that these fine People are responsible for Our Safety, aren't you?

All in, a fine time was had by all, despite the Dolphins' loss to the Panthers, which will be a cause of much lamenting and gnashing of teeth when I wake up.

Back home far too late (or early, depending on your point of view), and the Darling Man was glad to see us safely returned to the nest.

Well darlings, off to "work".

Hugs,
Alysoun

Rantings from a Bird Gone Horribly, Horribly
Wrong

So, my evil sister Steel Wool is making me start a blog, apaprently because she, alone among all "sentient" beings in the galaxy has decided *I* don't share enough. Anyone who actually KNOWS me and read that last sentence is weeping, nay verily they are SOBBING with laughter at the very concept.

I shall attempt to protect what is LEFT of the reputations of my dearest friends and family members by oh-so cleverly disguising their identities as listed below, ensuring that THEY won't have a clue, almost everybody else in the world WILL, and all of us will get them confused and wrong and destroy the shreds of dignity and self-respect that linger in our hearts as we conveniently have total strangers living together and Royal Peers in need of permission slips to attend their 7th grade field trip to Islands of Adventure. You may wish to print this out for future reference. I know I will.

So, The Players:

The Bird: Moi, your overly intelligent Host

Splendid Man: the Bird's spouse

Darling Boy: the Bird's eldest spawn

Precious Boy: the Bird's youngest spawn

Steel Wool: Source of agony. Protege to the Bird and a Force Not to be Mocked, except by ME, the Family, the Boys, Mittens, Turtle and oh well...have at it.

Turtle: Beloved of Steel Wool.

Fabio: a Dear Friend, source of much amusement for the Bird, Steel Wool and in fact several citizens of the SCA dba Kingdom of Trimaris. Despite the torture Fabio receivesd at our hands, he is much-loved.

Mittens: See "Fabio": different person, same side effects. Even about the "much-loved" part, but don't tell HIM that, because the Bird will never hear the end of it.

The Boys: The Bird's dearest friends, a couple of sweet gentlemen who are very much in love with each other.

Thing 1: Taller one of the Boys
Thing 2: oh don't make me say it.

Darling Girl: The Bird's oldest friend, raises horses and heartrates.

The Family: the Bird's clan of chosen family members. Fav color: international distress orange (IDO). Yes, really.

Ancestors: the Bird's parents. Mythical creatures believed by many to be the Font of Patience. Believed by the Bird and Splendid Man to be in need of much intensive psychotherapy.

More later.....God help you all.

Hugs,
Alysoun