Tag: SCA

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Harvest Moon

When the moon hits your eye, like a big pizza pie!

It was time for me to get off my throne and I don’t mean the porcelain kind.  I had the honor of running and judging this years Provincial Bard competition for Malagentia. From the few years I have been entering competitions for Bardic, I learned what I wanted and didn’t want in a local competition. I had been working to build a bardic community wherever I go because my heart aches when I hear people say, “I’m not good enough… I can’t follow HER…. Bardic is hard. This does not make a safe environment for performers. It’s hard enough to get up in front of folks, especially when you never did it professionally or even semi professionally.

This year I made a rubric. It included the following categories:

Were you prepared?

Did you perform well?

Can you be heard?

How well did you know your piece?

Did you fit the theme?

Did the audience enjoy your piece?

Did you provide documentation?

How detailed was your documentation?

I also had a theme “Home is where the hearth is”. I figured it would be a nice and creative way to see how the competitors would deal with it.  Also,  how they would introduce their pieces and explain how their piece fit into the theme. In addition, the competitors would perform 2 pieces in contrasting styles, 1 piece must be period and documentation is required. This would tie into the SCA as but leave enough leniency that it would be fun.

Before the performances began, our Senechal (Who was one of the 3 additional judges I had asked to help with the judging) interjected for a moment. I couldn’t imagine what she needed to announce, but who was I to say no to this amazing lady. I was bestowed the very first provincial honor for Arts and Sciences for my work in the Bardic field. I was surprised and honored to receive… well, this honor! It was only the very first because I needed to leave early to head to a wedding so I was not able to attend the closing ceremonies where it should have been awarded.

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On to the performances! We had 4 incredible performers. All of them were not only incredible performers in all their own ways, but they were also all skilled in a martial activity as well. There were two heavy combat fighters and 2 fencers. I am proud to say I have fought and fenced with each of them. On top of these skilled performers, we had an exceptional young lady perform to compete for the youth bard.  I had decided this year to include this category. I find that we cannot support the arts just as adults, we need to hone their skills at an early age. It’s true what they say, the youth are our future.

The deliberating was difficult. Each was unique and powerful. I was blessed to have the judges I had picked along side me to help me pick. I didn’t want anyone to feel like they weren’t good enough. I had asked each of the judges to talk to all of the individuals privately and provide feedback. I didn’t want critiques, I wanted positive reinforcement. One of the largest lessons I have been learning in life is that you never provide unwarranted feedback or feedback that wasn’t asked for be the individual. I sent my words with the other judges and I also reached out to each of them after to let them know where their strong points were and encouraged them to keep shining like the jewels they are. Though, if someone told me that I’d reply, “ I’m volcanic ash! I don’t shine”

Bards. Keep being you!

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Harper’s Retreat

You must not under any pretense allow your mind (Harp).  To dwell on any thought that is not positive, constructive, optimistic, kind. -Emmet Fox

I think this should be the mantra I focus on. It’s always tough when you put your heart and soul into something and then have your spirit crushed by not obtaining that goal.  

This year was a new year to push myself . To try something new. This year I brought new repertoire. These pieces had never been performed by me for the public.  This year’s repertoire choices were very personal and close to my heart as well.  

Saturday I spent the day fencing, teaching, reveling in good friends and company. What did you teach, Lady Solveig? I taught what’s called a “Master Class”. This class is a safe place workshop where you bring a piece you are polishing or a piece you want to improve on. The format is generally you perform your entire piece all the way through and then you do it again, section by section. Suggestions are made about your performance and how to improve it. This was my first time performing this outside of an academic setting and I was overwhelmed to have three students attend. All of them brought difference pieces and styles to the table. I say overwhelmed in a good way. I never know how performers feel about being critiqued. Not everyone takes criticism well and even when they ask for it, it can rub them the wrong way. This was a great exercise for me in providing feedback but also serving as a bardic mentor for those who were older, same and younger than I was. I monitored body language very closely to make sure what I was providing was well received. When the class was over, I was thanked by the students and was told by two of them that they were now going to compete with these pieces for Baronial Bard and the third was just going to get up and perform for the open mic section. I couldn’t be prouder. I felt like a mama bird, proud that her kiddos are getting kicked out of the nest…. her… viking nest. With spears and fire.

I had set up, ahead of time, for an accompanist to help me with a piece. A few weeks prior, for personal reasons, he had to decline. Luckily, I am surrounded by amazing musicians in my life and another rose from the mist. I went to go rehearse with her but found out she had broken her foot the night before. In addition, she may have injured her wrist (Insert a chain of explicates and rapid swearing/heart beat) Oh wait! Another friend… can you play a thing? Maybe? No. Crap. oh hey, other friend (#4) yeah, I can play violin and make this work if your guitarist can’t.  (Like watching the Bob Ross reruns on twitch where he throws a blob of paint on the painting and you think its ruined? Nope.… SAVED!). We made this work. Awesome.

After the class was over I rushed to get ready for feast and the bardic competition that night. “Ooooo girl, you so fancy!” I would jest with my friend, Ollala, that I was “Installing my weave”. I was quickly corrected that it was not a weave, because they were not sewn in and they were just extensions. I pushed that button a lot over the next few hours. After all, what is a Skald without harassing their good friends.

I made my way over to feast in my finest raizing garb, head weighing a few pounds more, thanks to the extensions and beads. I promise, my head was not full of hot air… that would have made this so much easier to walk. I followed up with a few of my friends whom I knew were competing, and I made sure to speak to them and encourage them. One, specifically said they weren’t even sure if they were going to complete. I did my best to encourage them and even walked over with them to sign up. The rest was all feast and a blur until the competition.   Feast was an immense success as it always ways. The food was amazing as was the company.  #Foodcoma #Wholeroastedpig #liquidcourage #bardjuice

Game face on. No… not vampires. You know, srsbsns.

I mentioned that my repertoire this year was important to me. Several years prior, I had discovered a performer named Owain Pfyfe. If you know me well enough, you know I do not really care for tenors. The bright timbre is not something iI inherently enjoy. However, there was something about his charisma and style that I couldn’t ignore. I was so intent on finding him. He had to be a SCAdian right? After about six months of searching and re-listening to all of his repertoire, I was DEVASTATED to find out that he had passed a few years prior. I then began spending my time learning his music, listening to his humor and trying to take it and internalize it, making it my own.  My first piece would be one of his repertoire and it was my own take on it. I spent time focusing on that.

This year, I started with a mummer like feeling. I sat in the back of the room, covered in a wool cloak and an Italian Renaissance style plague doctors mask. I sat, quietly listening to the other performers, trying not to disturb them, but enjoy myself as well. Then, a friend of mine and fellow Bard, Kara the Mischievous took the stage. She sang a song, in which I have already received from her to add to my own personal book (It was that awesome!). Then, she too, decided to tell a story. She had mentioned at dinner she was telling a Norse story. I listened intently as she started her story, to tell us about when “Thor wore a dress”. My heart hit the floor, eyes widened and all the blood rushed from my body. That was -my- story. What was I going to do? Should I leave? Should I quit? What should I do?!?!?!

I took a stiff upper lip when it was turn, re-centered and let my new “persona” take over. I would not back down. I took the stage from the back of the hall in my mummers kit and my awful mix of European accents. I would crack jokes, get my “unsuspecting” assistants to the stage to help me out and slowly remove each piece. First the cloak (Which was alllll wool) so i weighed more than the world did at the moment. Next, the mask. Facial expressions are very important with physical comedy and the shtick I had chosen at that time. The piece I performed was “Fuggi, Fuggi”. I had the audience sing with me, I sang the Italian and as I explained to the audience, they’d be singing the Latin… ( Falalalala). At the end, it was time to show off my classical training. I arpeggiated my way up to a F above treble clef (One full octave above the top F line) and then gliasando’d down (Slide). A few small mistakes here and there, but ultimately I am very happy with how that piece went down.

Next, it was time for my story. I quickly thought of how I was going to fix this, the debacle, of two of us telling the same story. I opened with, “You may have already heard this story… tonight” and the audience seemed to appreciate that. Thank goodness for me, Kara and I have very different styles of telling stories so, although we told the same story, it was very different. This story was huge for me as I am not a storyteller, though, my friend’s say otherwise. I rely on my fast paced wit and vocal technique to entertain with. This was also important as this was my first true to persona piece I had done. Win or lose, this was my own victory.

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At court on Sunday, I was not announced at the victor and my heart sunk. I had several folks approach me, telling me how much they enjoyed my piece, how much they loved my voice, how excited that I was going to be their champion again. I think this was devastating to me only because this was told to me. Had I not had so much stake in this at this point I think it wouldn’t have been as much of a letdown. However, their new Baronial champion is a shining star. She is just starting to really get her feet wet into Bardic. She has such talent and skill. I cannot wait to watch her grow and support her. My job in Stonemarche is done.  Their community is growing strong and supportive. I will never stop supporting them, I will never stop being a part of their community, but they are not my focus any more. I need to find another group who needs my help just a tad more. You could say, “I’m a Wizard, Harry” and “A wizard is never late, nor is he early, he arrives precisely when he means to.” And I will go precisely to where I am needed next.

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Pensic Pity Party

Pity me on my pilgrimage to Loch Derge!

As in the aforementioned post, I could not make the journey to the holy land this year. Next year in Jerusa—– Pennsic.A few folks had created a small circle in the middle of the lawn. Garb, fencing, thrown weapons, food and archery were all surrounding this (safely at distance… the marshalls all checked! I watched). Music started. I sat and listed to the dulcet tones of these strangers. There is nothing more comforting and home than music.  One gentleman asked me if I sang or played anything or if I was just there to listen. I responded “Both”. They asked me if I would share.  Who was I to say no. I was honestly there to just listen, but denying someone music is the worst crime of all.

I pulled out a tune I knew well and suddenly new friends were made. We jammed for what seemed like hours.  I harmonized with the other performers, I noodled on one of their guitars, sang by myself, had them harmonize with me. It was heaven. Now I just need to figure out how to make this happen in Malagentia. To the drawing board!

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A Walk Amongst the Pines

I pine for you!

Holy mother of rain, Batman. Was this a wet demo. It was raining cats and dogs off and on. Though, it did clear up for a couple of hours.  I was asked a few months prior, knowing that I wasn’t going to Pennsic, to perform for the attendees of the demo. The plans for this had not changed, but there was a hiccup. The individual who was supposed to marshall for this event had to step out last minute.

The Monday evening prior to the demo, I received a message from the autocrat asking if I knew any fencing marshalls who’d be willing to attend the event. I said I would ask around. The Northern Region Rapier Marshall attends my local fencing practices and I asked her as well as the local marshalls if they would be available or have any suggestions. I, myself, had been working on my fencing marshallate for the last year but was not a marshall yet. That evening, I had earned my fencing marshallate and was able to reply to the autocrat with good news. I would be MiC(Marshall in Charge) to make sure fencing could happen.

Fast forward to day of, paperwork was provided, everyone was safe, no one died and it was a good demo. I even heralded and announced the fencers as well. The heavy armored fighters were so thrilled to see this, they asked me to herald them in as well and speak to the audience. I think this went well.

Finally, the rain just overtook the whole event. We curled up inside of structure… Barn/garage thing… A small bardic circle formed. Ruadh was discussing that bardic can be for everyone and comes in all shapes and sizes. I sang for the group… pretty pieces and not so pretty pieces. I told stories and hammed it up (Kosher Ham, mom. I promise!). I gently nudged new performers to get up and do their thing. I sang with the new comers and I could feel the cold air turn warm. There is something magical about how bardic can make a garage with crockpots feel like an old tavern.

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Sing for the East- CD

Some funds, some funds, my Kingdom for some funds!

It had been 8 years since I had done my last professional recording. I was eager to get my feet wet again. The wish fairy came to my aid via the Tome of Visages carrier pigeon. I received a request from Drake Oranwood. Drake was organizing a fundraiser for the East Kingdom Travel Fund. If one is not familiar, it is very expensive to be King and Queen, and so, we, as loyal citizens, aim to increase the size of their coffers.

We would put together a CD/digital download of East Kingdom anthems.

I was sent a piece by Mistress Aife Ingen Chonchobair in Derthaige called The Eastern Tyger’s Roar. I gave the piece one listen and needed no additional motivation. I learned the piece over the next few days and traveled to the Barony of Endewerde to visit with Mistress Aneleda. She had a sweet, sweet setup (next to her washer, dryer, and ironing board).

Recording started promptly at 10:30 PM Eastern Standard Time, and concluded 11:30 PM. I think I may have done 9 takes in that time, some of which may or may not have been composed entirely of giggles. The finished product was sent via carrier pigeon to Lord Drake and were never heard from again until the time of final production. What can I say? I am my biggest critic. 

If you’d care for a listen, and to support the East Kingdom, please follow the link below.

www.singfortheeast.bandcamp.com

 

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Giggleswick Garden of Arts and Sciences

It’s a maze this garden, it’s a maze of ways…

I may have a minor addiction to going to classes. I swore, when I was done with college I would never set foot in a classroom again. This, coming from the education major. That didn’t last very long. The one things that beats my desire to learn is my desire to teach. An opportunity arose at the Giggleswick Garden of Arts and Sciences that there were no bardic classes, only one on instruments themselves. How could this be? Why would anyone ever let this happen?  (It just so happened that after I submitted my classes, so did Lord Nicol) I couldn’t let this happen! When I found out this news, I made sure I would teach a new class and one I had taught before. Since this was a relatively small venue, it would be a safe avenue for testing out my new bardic class.

I arrived early on site as that’s the only way I know how to be. This is humorous as not only am I in the SCA, but my family is Jewish.  Being on time is not really a thing. Being early? UNHEARD OF! I guess the musician in me lives by our golden rule: “To be early is to be on time. To be on time is to be late. To be late, fired!” I threw on my garb hastily and then greeted a friend who was attending his first SCA event.

The first class was one on medieval musical notation and church modes. This was one I have taught a few years prior. I was really impressed with the level of questions I received after the class ranging from why we didn’t have musical documentation, the evolution of documentation and why most of our earlier documented music was sacred versus secular. Where, these were not necessarily on topic, I was overjoyed to answer these questions and cultivate eager minds.

It was then time for food and the day board was terrific. Thank you Giggleswick for your delicious noms. I don’t think I remembered to pack feast gear or prepare food. I was so excited to teach, I had forgotten about my need to eat. You also had this for me too. Yay!

The final class I was stated to teach was a beginning class on ear training. Ear training is a methodology of creating a better sense of identifying the center of the pitch to be able to sing/play in tune, recognize intervals and be able to sing/play back passages. I had two students. One of my students I had worked with before and she had a balanced sense of the above, but was not professionally trained and was looking to better herself. The other was a gentleman who had never sang formally. He had a good ear but, as we all do, had things to work on.

This was a new and interesting experience for me. Where I have worked with groups before for minor adjustments, this was my first time doing individualized adult instruction which was not chorus based. Both of the students grew in skill tremendously fast. It was clear that they both were frustrated with their own mistakes. Knowing where to back off and move on is always finding the feel for it. I feel like I had a decent sense of this.

Would I teach this class again? Absolutely! I would change up some of the structure and skill level activities, but all in all, I feel like it went well.

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By His Hand

“Look at that,” he said, “how the ink bleeds.”  
It mirrors the way the rivers  
of the soul soak in the parchment
He loved the way it looked
to write on a thick pillow of the pad
To him, it was like music, a song in his hands–
all of the possible drawings,
curves, relationships–  
all of the answers, questions, mysteries,  
all of the problems solvable in that space.
The pen in his hand,  
a key to the prison, that white space.
By his hand, a new beginning.
By his hand, imagery–flights of arrows
Piercing through the stark confines
Like a sword dashing through the dark,
Revealing a new light
in his work, in his words

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Coronation of King Ionnes and Queen Honig

When in Rome, do like the Romans! Wear togas… what did you think I was going to say?

Callooh Callay! Oh frabjous day! My friends were getting crowned.

This little Viking — well, not so little, really — feels weird, because she doesn’t know how to roman. She’s more of a stayin kinda gal, to be honest. Thank goodness for Bianca di Firenze, who knows all about stolas and pallas and I’m pretty sure dressed the entire kingdom. Or at least the Malagentian half.

But before the festivities were to begin, there was always more work to be done for this Viking-turned Roman. Wait, where’s my bling? None of my bling matches! ACK!

I had been informed a few months prior that Lord Alexandre St Pierre was to receive *his* Laurel — I think you’ll start to notice a trend of when I compose. At least, I’m not decomposing. Yet. Wait, what’s that smell?

Anyways, how does one write a song for a scribe?  I made lists of all the things he couldn’t do very well — it wasn’t that long a list. I even tried to read poems about other scribes — don’t try it, because they don’t exist. But what does exist is a passion for hobbies, and then I was inspired by his passion. By his words, by what came from his hands, you could even say inspired by his hands.

I wanted well-rounded scribe, but a talented artist, and an archer as well. So I figured it out. I wasn’t going to write him a song. I was going to write him a poem instead!

Poems were their own sort of challenge, because they weren’t restricted by the same parameters as a song. Word stress was also far different. I hadn’t written a poem for anyone in seventeen years. I guess you have to start somewhere. Again. I stared at blank paper. I stared at ink. I made lists of all  to include *everything* he did, not just the scribal aspect. I used allusions to swords and to archery, and music as well. I was pleased with the product, but as always, shy to present it to the public.

Coronation arrived, and I think I figured out which way was up with my garb — the little arrows Bianca safety-pinned on really helped. I arrived early to help set up his vigil. And schmooze, as you do. And check for the 513th time I was wearing my palla correctly. Which fell off my head over 9,000 times! If I hadn’t been told how much of a hussy I would have been without one, I would have just given up on the darn thing.

Morning court came, and everyone played it cool. I had Alexandre’s little flaggy hidden in my palla, and he was the first one called in. The look of, “Oh crap!” was priceless! Hopefully someone got it on camera! We waved our little flaggies and watched as he was sent off to vigil. He was one of the lucky ones, because he wasn’t there when (former) King Brion made the entire room cry while singing “My Queen” to his lovely wife, Anna. I bet Alexandre’s were the only dry eyes in the entire building as King Brion sang well and with all his heart, nothing could have been more true. It was really freaking adorable. Even the Vikings cried, though they probably won’t admit it, since they were all disguised as Romans.

About an hour into his vigil, I finally got my chance to present my gift to Alexandre. I felt like one of the fairies from Sleeping Beauty. I hope it’s not Merryweather. Oh God, or Maleficent!

Since I lack the skill of calligraphy and illumination — I’m learning, but it’s taking quite a bit of time — I had “borrowed” in classic Viking fashion, a previously created illumination from Ye Olde Internets, and had placed the words of my own composition on it using Ye Olde Word MMXIII. You would think, as a bard, I’d be better at words in vigils. But I feel as if I always walk all over my tongue. I spoke to Alexandre of the beauty that he presents the world, and his multitude of gifts. So now it was my time to give him a gift back, the only one I have to offer. I handed him the framed copy, and then began to read. I didn’t catch his reaction, since I was too busy being nervous reading it to him to look up, but I feel it was well received. I also let him know that I learned a new trade just to be able to honor him that day. I told him that I would be heralding him into court. This is something I had never done before, not just in court aspect, but at all.

The rest of the afternoon passed, and it was time for the afternoon court, the first court of the new King and Queen, my friends, Ionnes and Honig. We anxiously mustered in the hall. We were all of Woolfe’s Company: We were small but we were mighty. Thank you, New England April Fool’s Day storm. We were the last business, but the energy was still high. As herald, I was the second to process, the first being a small boy no older than eight years old, carrying Alexandre’s banner of arms. I wrote the words that morning as I was inspired, and grandiosely presented my friend to the Known World. In addition, I had arranged a Machaut piece (which was of his persona) to be played as I heralded. I made sure the words suited him, and that I was clearer than crystal. The world would tremble at his presence. But not too much, because as Sir Ivan remarked, he is a small man.

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Beautiful gifts were presented to him as were his right, and court finished soon after as all the Laurels swarmed to welcome their newest inductee. I got a hug too.

Now my favorite part of any event, that doesn’t have shopping, FEAST!

This feast would have a new twist — I had signed up to serve. It’s true. My palla found a new place to live, as I became a kitchen hussy. This experience was not only enlightening, because while I had only just recently learned what it was like to run a feast a few months prior, I had never served a feast before. I would say I rolled up my sleeves and dug in, but I didn’t have any. Where it was a whirlwind at times, it was still a great time. The camaraderie and leftovers were great. 9.5, maybe 10 out of 10, would definitely serve again. Besides, any time I can be that close to Gryffyth’s food is a fantastic day in my book!

 

By His Hand

“Look at that,” he said, “how the ink bleeds.”  
It mirrors the way the rivers  
of the soul soak in the parchment
He loved the way it looked
to write on a thick pillow of the pad
To him, it was like music, a song in his hands–
all of the possible drawings,
curves, relationships–  
all of the answers, questions, mysteries,  
all of the problems solvable in that space.
The pen in his hand,  
a key to the prison, that white space.
By his hand, a new beginning.
By his hand, imagery–flights of arrows
Piercing through the stark confines
Like a sword dashing through the dark,
Revealing a new light
in his work, in his words

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King and Queens Bardic Competition

Hit me with your best shot!

It was time for me to put on my big bard… big skald? Pants and go out head to head… neck to neck.. Voice to voice with the best that the east kingdom had to offer. Fuzzy hat? Check! Brooches! (or as some call them, nipple shields)? Czech… I mean CHECK! Documentation? 2 pages…. Check! Repertoire? Checkkkkkkk.

Lets back up a little bit. The week prior to the event, several of my friends, peers, peerfriends had asked if I was competing in King and Queens Bardic competition. I’d frequent statements like, “Oh, it’s too far” or “I’m not good enough” or even “I didn’t know … I got nothin’”. Finally, it was 5 days prior to the event, when I somehow got swindled into competing and agreed. I sent in my email of intent to compete… a whopping 4 hours before the deadline.

The Friday before the event, I drove to Lady Olivia’s abode and realized.. ACK! I had forgotten my documentation on my desk at work. Thank goodness I has a smart and save all my documentation in cloud form. The new task was making sure her printer actually did a thing. A bottle of mead later, we had a working printer and mostly legible documentation.

The day of the event, I wandered lost, gripping my styrofoam cup of milk of gods… dunkin doughnuts coffee in one hand and the other clung to an eggwhite sandwich. I wandered the beautiful venue, gathering myself and aimlessly looking to where troll was. I maybe knew a few familiar faces, but the queen and kings bards were not amongst them. I eventually stumbled on them.

As I anxiously waited for the competition to begin, I was blessed to have more familiar faces there on site. Lady Ada happened to have a fidget cube which she sacrificed for me to calm my nerves. The time had come and my name was called for my first piece. I started by speaking about the piece itself, the translation literal than poetic and then made a -just barely- off color joke. I think the audience received this well. Racing through my head, hidden behind my pleasant facade, was thoughts of “Oh, Viking persona… how well can she sing?” “Oh, she told a joke… she must be compensating”. Even the king himself looked distracted and less than interested at the moment.  It was time, I opened my mouth and the room seemed to lull into a hush. My heart stopped at the end of the cadenza when the applause filled the room. Almost immediately after the first round was over, several individuals approached me with tokens. I was astounded. I have never received more than one at a time at an event, ever. I thanked everyone graciously for their tokens and then wandered into the A and S display to calm my mind a little bit.

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Round 2, fight! It was time to announce of the 16 competitors, who could be moving on. My name was called as one of the last few announced and my heart hit the floor in gratitude. Now it was time to regain my composure for round 2. I had a stories prepared to show that I was more diverse than just a vocalist. Albeit, I only have 1 story to tell, but damnit I am going to tell it.

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I approached as my name was called, and called for the biggest, bravest individuals in the audience to join me. Let’s face it, we bards are hams. I had about 9-10 folks join me. I left their participation description to the end and informed the audience of their parts in my story. Again, fighting the urge to self deprecate myself in my own mind I pushed on. The story roared for about 13 minutes (4 minutes longer than I had planned) and again, a thunderous applause.

Wise guy remarks were dropped to me from the Prince afterwards and I felt good about myself. The final 4 were to be announced, but my name had not been called. That was ok. I felt good about my work. Another several individuals approached me and presented me with tokens, and two more had IOUs for me. The King himself was amongst those who had presented me with their token. I was in shock and awe. I’ll take it!

I approached the current reigning bards for feedback so I’d be ready for next year. I was told my documentation was spot on, my vocal performance was stellar, but my story was too long. I was however, told that I was a fantastic story teller. They asked me if I had more, to which I said, “No, this is my one and only, which I have only performed 2 times prior”. I was encouraged to continue singing and of course storytelling.

 

This may have not made me KIng or Queen’s bard, but I went home a winner!

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Birka 2017

Did someone say shopping?

*Puffs out chest* I’m on staff this year! Well, kinda sort of. I was running Bardic Circle that night. But before then, Shopping!

Then after shopping, fashion happened. And then court. I don’t remember much of court, because I spent much of it retaining for both their Excellencies and their Highnesses. Court actually finished on time this year {*gasp* say it isn’t so!} and I had time between then and Bardic Circle. I sauntered my way over to where the Fashion Show had been performed earlier and where we’d be Circling shortly, and to my surprise, there were already folks ready to sing.

We did Pick, Pass, or Play: you pick someone to play a piece, pass it to someone else, or play your own piece. We were getting towards the end of the night, and a middle-aged Italian woman had asked for someone to sing a piece from her homeland. Without even thinking, I had a case of helium-hand, almost hitting the unsuspecting Aneleda behind me, who was also raising her hand. We looked to one another, mouthed, “Cacinni,” and quickly decided to turn a solo into a duet. I would sing the melody, while she sang the harmony.

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When we were done, our new Italian friend, had tears in her eyes. I asked if my Italian was still decent, and she responded she thought I was a native. She continued to go on about how Aneleda and I had warmed her heart, and how we were now fast friends. The Circle went on until about eleven, and then the night ended mutually, as the bards and their audience had been wandering off to find their beds or other amusements at their own pace.