Pennsic sorta recap: photos!
Aug. 20th, 2010 10:20 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
dragonlady7So I finally got my Pennsic photos done. Just after I finished uploading them, the copy of Lightroom that Z had ordered me arrived. Eh, that's how these things go. (i had figured on another week at least. Eh well!)
My photos from Pennsic, the full set.
But here's a guided tour.
First, the stage. I camped with a household called Three Swans, which hosts a bar, the Inn of the Three Swans. Last year the actual physical bar structure, as in the piece of furniture upon which we served drinks, succumbed to orange mold or termites or both, so this year we had a brand new shiny one. Painted with our logo and name.
Our next-door neighbors were a little pseudo-family-style household based approximately out of Akron Ohio. Basically it's a 40-year-old couple who've been together and in the SCA over half their lives, and their young proteges; the male half of the couple fights heavy and had an older guy take him under his wing when he was young, so he's doing the same for these youths. So it's these two hilariously fantastic people a bit older than me, and a little flock of friendly personable hard-working younglings of 20 or 21, and altogether it was a great time.
Wicked Monkey Tribe (not pictured, unfortunately, is Kilij and Zaliha's awesome yurt).
Something I'm really excited about is that Wicked Monkey has agreed to merge kitchens with Three Swans. I'm excited because Kilij and Zaliha were there my first Pennsic and were almost my favorite people of the whole War; I've socialized more with them than with most of the Swans, and I had wished there was a way I could be in their household too. So now I sort of am, and I'm pumped. Also, both of our camps have awesome cooks. So, win-win. (Also the block is really crowded, and if we absorb their kitchen into ours, we can squeeze in one or two more tents in the vacated area.)
We ate really well. Nez, our camp cook, made dim sum. Kilij, Wicked Monkey's camp cook, made empanadas. For example of how well we ate. Oh there was more. There was a lot more.
Our menu, first week.
The cast of characters is too large to detail exhaustively, but a few key people:
Nez and Pete, our heads of household:
Liesl and Dave, my friend from high school and my friend from college, still together after all these years and engaged to be married next year sometime (she's putting sunscreen on him so he can go fight in one of the heavy list battles):
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redstapler, who introduced me to Three Swans (i don't have a good shot of her with Josh and/or Mike! Oh well.)
The lovely and talented John Henry, who tended bar in his inimitably surly fashion, and did our dishes with OCD thoroughness on a regular basis:
There were 21 people with our household this year, so putting in pics of everyone's a bit much, but it's worth giving a quick nod to Klaus the brewmaster, who brought his wife and son Julie and Parker again this year. Parker is two and half and quite shy. There are more people I'll feel like an asshole for not listing but I don't have time; they're labeled in the photo set, and are rad as well.
Kilij and Zaliha, the heads of household of Wicked Monkey:
The Baby Monkeys, as we dubbed them:
Oighen, who gave me a real actual shirt of his from work with an authentic iron-on patch reading "Eugene", which is his actual name, and who is actually coming to visit this weekend, arriving imminently. This was his second year with the Monkeys and he was a bit less quiet this time. We inducted him into the House of Daves, then took it back, then took him back in.
Rufus, who was dubbed "Thirteen, but hot!" by a random person when Eugene was pissed at being ID'd when Rufus wasn't-- he was a rookie, and entertaining, if a bit quiet:
and last but not least, Sorcha, who proved herself wise beyond her years, also quiet, but disconcertingly hard to read:
Kilij had assembled a band. In previous years, he would just sit by our firepit and drum (I say "just", but he's a phenomenal doumbek player), but this year he had a flute and brought a guitarist and drummer. It proved to be quite popular.
The bar was pretty crowded most nights. We had theme nights. Well, there was one theme, and others grew from there. Monday night a neighboring camp called Die Fledermaus hosts a party called Mardi Gras. Don't ask me why, it's always Monday. So we theorized that we should have Topless Girls Bartending on Mardi Gras, as our own answer to the party. But then we thought that this was somewhat unfair, that it's always chicks who are naked. So we recruited the boy Baby Monkeys, and our regular in-house crew, and had Nude Bartender Night the previous night.
I figured it was safe to post a picture since it's only blurry buttcheeks and no identifiable features.
(They're wearing SCA-style knotted belts, backward, and in front they had their belt pouches suspended to disguise certain key, er, terrain features. I did not take a picture from the front.)
I took no pictures on Mardi Gras. I was trying not to take any compromising pictures. This was more or less successful.
Wicked Monkey did borrow our front porch on Mardi Gras, and hosted carnival games. Pictured: Dick Tack Toe. The King of the West was a champion at this, apparently.
Z did not participate on Nude Bartender Night, but he did wear monkey underpants and stuck Googly eyes above his belly button, to humorous effect.
Apart from throwing enormous (and I mean enormous, like, in the hundreds of visitors) parties pretty much every night, we did the usual Pennsic things. Dave-Randall, the other founding Dave of the House of Daves, had authorized to fight heavy, and so did, in several battles. I went up and watched the Break The Seige Battle, and took a bunch of pictures.
We also wandered around and saw the sights (that's the camp gate of the household Ravenspittle-- yes, it's a pirate ship) and scenery (that's the lake, a few minutes' walk from where we camp).
I didn't have a particularly relaxing time, this time. Turns out throwing parties for hundreds of people isn't really very relaxing; there's a whole lot of work to do. By happenstance a couple camp members were having off years and just didn't contribute a whole lot of work. So there were several days where I felt literally tethered to camp; I ran my ass off sunup to sundown, didn't have time to get enough sleep let alone eat or drink enough, didn't really get to have much fun, and definitely didn't get to do almost any of the things I had planned on doing at War. I worked like a dog, no lie, and it was exhausting. (I was actually really impressed by the effort one campmate, a notorious slacker whose narcolepsy was finally (!) diagnosed as extreme diabetes (yes, I know! Jesus) put in this year-- he was an absolute hero one night in particular, and I have no complaints about him. It was other, unexpected people I wanted to spork in the eyes.)
But I still wouldn't really change any of what happened. There wasn't really anything I could do about it, and if I didn't work that hard, then awesome things wouldn't have happened. It won't happen again this coming year; the Monkey absorption will force us to be more organized, and there won't be room for the extremely uneven distribution of labor there was this year. I don't think anyone was malicious about it, it's just that some of the real slackers honestly never realized how much work was going on while they weren't paying attention. We did have some relative noobs who were real champions and put in a ton of effort, which is admirable. We also had a lamentable but inevitable lack of organization meaning that a lot of people's good intentions couldn't be capitalized upon.
I don't mean to destroy the really fun impression the photos give. Because it was loads of fun. I just came home exhausted, dehydrated, and frazzled, and not for any of the usual fun reasons. I literally worked my ass off. I brought workout equipment intending to use it? Worked out twice in two weeks, not because I was lazy but because I literally did not have time, and on the few occasions I did, I was too physically exhausted to do anything. So I still lost weight and gained muscle, because as I said, I worked my ass off.
I suppose I bother writing about this to point out that Pennsic isn't just some hippie fest. It's not just a bunch of people hanging around drinking. There's a lot of work that goes into it, a lot of love, a lot of sweat and some blood and even occasional tears. People take it seriously. People have a fantastic time. People work hard. And I for one wouldn't ever think it wasn't worth it. I just plan on making some changes next time.
I didn't get all the photos I wanted to, but I got a lot, and that's something. More than last year is an improvement, and that's an improvement over the previous year.
My photos from Pennsic, the full set.
But here's a guided tour.
First, the stage. I camped with a household called Three Swans, which hosts a bar, the Inn of the Three Swans. Last year the actual physical bar structure, as in the piece of furniture upon which we served drinks, succumbed to orange mold or termites or both, so this year we had a brand new shiny one. Painted with our logo and name.
Our next-door neighbors were a little pseudo-family-style household based approximately out of Akron Ohio. Basically it's a 40-year-old couple who've been together and in the SCA over half their lives, and their young proteges; the male half of the couple fights heavy and had an older guy take him under his wing when he was young, so he's doing the same for these youths. So it's these two hilariously fantastic people a bit older than me, and a little flock of friendly personable hard-working younglings of 20 or 21, and altogether it was a great time.
Wicked Monkey Tribe (not pictured, unfortunately, is Kilij and Zaliha's awesome yurt).
Something I'm really excited about is that Wicked Monkey has agreed to merge kitchens with Three Swans. I'm excited because Kilij and Zaliha were there my first Pennsic and were almost my favorite people of the whole War; I've socialized more with them than with most of the Swans, and I had wished there was a way I could be in their household too. So now I sort of am, and I'm pumped. Also, both of our camps have awesome cooks. So, win-win. (Also the block is really crowded, and if we absorb their kitchen into ours, we can squeeze in one or two more tents in the vacated area.)
We ate really well. Nez, our camp cook, made dim sum. Kilij, Wicked Monkey's camp cook, made empanadas. For example of how well we ate. Oh there was more. There was a lot more.
Our menu, first week.
The cast of characters is too large to detail exhaustively, but a few key people:
Nez and Pete, our heads of household:
Liesl and Dave, my friend from high school and my friend from college, still together after all these years and engaged to be married next year sometime (she's putting sunscreen on him so he can go fight in one of the heavy list battles):
redstapler, who introduced me to Three Swans (i don't have a good shot of her with Josh and/or Mike! Oh well.) The lovely and talented John Henry, who tended bar in his inimitably surly fashion, and did our dishes with OCD thoroughness on a regular basis:
There were 21 people with our household this year, so putting in pics of everyone's a bit much, but it's worth giving a quick nod to Klaus the brewmaster, who brought his wife and son Julie and Parker again this year. Parker is two and half and quite shy. There are more people I'll feel like an asshole for not listing but I don't have time; they're labeled in the photo set, and are rad as well.
Kilij and Zaliha, the heads of household of Wicked Monkey:
The Baby Monkeys, as we dubbed them:
Oighen, who gave me a real actual shirt of his from work with an authentic iron-on patch reading "Eugene", which is his actual name, and who is actually coming to visit this weekend, arriving imminently. This was his second year with the Monkeys and he was a bit less quiet this time. We inducted him into the House of Daves, then took it back, then took him back in.
Rufus, who was dubbed "Thirteen, but hot!" by a random person when Eugene was pissed at being ID'd when Rufus wasn't-- he was a rookie, and entertaining, if a bit quiet:
and last but not least, Sorcha, who proved herself wise beyond her years, also quiet, but disconcertingly hard to read:
Kilij had assembled a band. In previous years, he would just sit by our firepit and drum (I say "just", but he's a phenomenal doumbek player), but this year he had a flute and brought a guitarist and drummer. It proved to be quite popular.
The bar was pretty crowded most nights. We had theme nights. Well, there was one theme, and others grew from there. Monday night a neighboring camp called Die Fledermaus hosts a party called Mardi Gras. Don't ask me why, it's always Monday. So we theorized that we should have Topless Girls Bartending on Mardi Gras, as our own answer to the party. But then we thought that this was somewhat unfair, that it's always chicks who are naked. So we recruited the boy Baby Monkeys, and our regular in-house crew, and had Nude Bartender Night the previous night.
I figured it was safe to post a picture since it's only blurry buttcheeks and no identifiable features.
(They're wearing SCA-style knotted belts, backward, and in front they had their belt pouches suspended to disguise certain key, er, terrain features. I did not take a picture from the front.)
I took no pictures on Mardi Gras. I was trying not to take any compromising pictures. This was more or less successful.
Wicked Monkey did borrow our front porch on Mardi Gras, and hosted carnival games. Pictured: Dick Tack Toe. The King of the West was a champion at this, apparently.
Z did not participate on Nude Bartender Night, but he did wear monkey underpants and stuck Googly eyes above his belly button, to humorous effect.
Apart from throwing enormous (and I mean enormous, like, in the hundreds of visitors) parties pretty much every night, we did the usual Pennsic things. Dave-Randall, the other founding Dave of the House of Daves, had authorized to fight heavy, and so did, in several battles. I went up and watched the Break The Seige Battle, and took a bunch of pictures.
We also wandered around and saw the sights (that's the camp gate of the household Ravenspittle-- yes, it's a pirate ship) and scenery (that's the lake, a few minutes' walk from where we camp).
I didn't have a particularly relaxing time, this time. Turns out throwing parties for hundreds of people isn't really very relaxing; there's a whole lot of work to do. By happenstance a couple camp members were having off years and just didn't contribute a whole lot of work. So there were several days where I felt literally tethered to camp; I ran my ass off sunup to sundown, didn't have time to get enough sleep let alone eat or drink enough, didn't really get to have much fun, and definitely didn't get to do almost any of the things I had planned on doing at War. I worked like a dog, no lie, and it was exhausting. (I was actually really impressed by the effort one campmate, a notorious slacker whose narcolepsy was finally (!) diagnosed as extreme diabetes (yes, I know! Jesus) put in this year-- he was an absolute hero one night in particular, and I have no complaints about him. It was other, unexpected people I wanted to spork in the eyes.)
But I still wouldn't really change any of what happened. There wasn't really anything I could do about it, and if I didn't work that hard, then awesome things wouldn't have happened. It won't happen again this coming year; the Monkey absorption will force us to be more organized, and there won't be room for the extremely uneven distribution of labor there was this year. I don't think anyone was malicious about it, it's just that some of the real slackers honestly never realized how much work was going on while they weren't paying attention. We did have some relative noobs who were real champions and put in a ton of effort, which is admirable. We also had a lamentable but inevitable lack of organization meaning that a lot of people's good intentions couldn't be capitalized upon.
I don't mean to destroy the really fun impression the photos give. Because it was loads of fun. I just came home exhausted, dehydrated, and frazzled, and not for any of the usual fun reasons. I literally worked my ass off. I brought workout equipment intending to use it? Worked out twice in two weeks, not because I was lazy but because I literally did not have time, and on the few occasions I did, I was too physically exhausted to do anything. So I still lost weight and gained muscle, because as I said, I worked my ass off.
I suppose I bother writing about this to point out that Pennsic isn't just some hippie fest. It's not just a bunch of people hanging around drinking. There's a lot of work that goes into it, a lot of love, a lot of sweat and some blood and even occasional tears. People take it seriously. People have a fantastic time. People work hard. And I for one wouldn't ever think it wasn't worth it. I just plan on making some changes next time.
I didn't get all the photos I wanted to, but I got a lot, and that's something. More than last year is an improvement, and that's an improvement over the previous year.
