Finishing and Fencing

I keep telling myself that I should update my blog, but I didn't want to just talk about a bunch of things that I've just started. I wanted to talk about things that I've finished.

Unfortunately, because my projects tend to be lengthy, I haven't finished a ton of things. I did, however, finish a baby blanket for my Celt's cousin.

It's thirty-five inches in diameter, but that is the part that I'm most unhappy about. The pattern called for it to be forty-five inches in diameter. I can't get over that I feel like this blanket is just too small. However, everyone at the shower seemed to like it, and I got a lot of comments on it as well, so I think maybe I'll just shut up and move on.

My Celt had a dream had a dream realized last Thursday when I donned fencing gear and began to learn how to fight. I'll never switch to heavy, unfortunately for him, but I really did enjoy myself. Lord Sebastian Elgar is a most patient teacher. I'm sure I was quite terrible at it. I didn't fight very long, but I'm hoping to get back at it this Thursday, now that I've purchased a few protective items that I find I don't want to try fencing without ever again.


Lord Sebastian putting me through my paces.

I'm quite unsure if I'm quick-thinking enough to do this sport. It seems like it takes a very sharp mind to react to what your opponent is doing. I enjoyed it, don't get me wrong, but Sebastian and I were going at a turtle's pace. Watching the others fight, I realized that I have a lot to work to do to get any where near a competent level. My intention this week was to work on my balance, and try to do some exercises to get a little conditioning in. Unfortunately, my back began to hurt on Sunday and hasn't stopped since. I don't usually have back problems, so I'm hoping this goes away quickly and is a rare occurrence.

Tomorrow, if my back cooperates, I'm hoping to get back into gear and try it again. My brother and my sister-in-law are encouraging me enough to buy gloves and give me a gift certificate toward the purchase of my own mask. Baron Sir Gunther and my Celt even offered to make a gorget for me to use. I'm excited, and I think the only person who isn't excited for me is my father. :D

All Over the Place, Literally

It’s only the beginning of July, but I can honestly say that it’s been a crazy busy summer. In June alone we attended two events (and one at the very end of May), camped twice, and I personally spent a great deal of time working on various projects. Not to mention a lot of dealings with my Celt’s mother’s kidney transplant (which sadly didn’t happen in the end), and family visiting.

This weekend I plan to get beneath the mounds of debris in my living room so I can begin sewing garb for my Celt’s trip to Pensic War. For some reason, unlike a lot of folks, I just can’t work in a messy place. And when you have a tiny one bedroom, you really need to keep on top of all that stuff.

Though it was incredibly hot and muggy the first day, and we only stayed one night, I think the Celtlings enjoyed going to Border Skirmish in the Kingdom of Northshield. Their garb turned out ok, despite my inexperience behind a sewing machine, and they had fun running around taking photos of the battles. My Celt thinks the youngest two might be too young to be entertained at a weekend-long event, but I’m looking at this as a learning experience. Now we know that we have to bring more things for them to do, just in case the children’s activities fall through. The best time to be had, however, was at the beach on the beautiful shores of Lake Michigan. I think we went down to the beach at least four times, despite the icy chill of the water.

Asa and the Celtlings: (clockwise from lower left) Anna, Maggie, Me, Ian

The following weekend, we trekked down to the Barony of Carriag Ban within our own kingdom to attend Ragnarok Rampage, without the Celtlings. It seemed that fate was against us, what with all the storms we had to face, and several of the people who were supposed to be doing things at the event missing out because of storm-related mishaps.

At one point, my Celt and I were standing inside our flimsy nylon tent, holding up tent poles so the wind and rain didn’t blow us over. At the last minute they had to find a new list master (and the one who stepped in did a good job, if I do say so), so the boys didn’t even get to start fighting until midday, when the sun was hot and the breeze was slight.

Because we’re attempting to experience the whole SCA this time around, our entire encampment (a total of eight folks!) went to court and feast that night. I’ve been to SCA feasts before and to be perfectly honest, while the food-snob in me is usually thoroughly impressed by the offerings, the meat-and-potatoes side of me is usually left wanting. This feast, however, did not disappoint. Using the theme of Beowulf vs. Grendel, we were served several courses (beginning with a joke course of bologna sandwiches and chips). The biggest hit of the night was Grendel’s blood and ribs, a serving of pork ribs swimming in a beet soup. It was absolutely delicious and our serving bowl didn’t leave the table with a drop of food left in it. I also enjoyed the cottage loaf, and “Grendel’s Eyes,” a mixture of cream and cottage cheese with green olives.

Cottage loaf with honey butter, vegetables, and "Grendel's Eyes"

While we did end up driving home early the next morning (around 1:30 a.m., which I do not recommend), and I got sunburn so bad that it took me days to recover, I can honestly look back on the weekend with fondness. Not only did I get to know a few of my Shire members better, I met a couple of new folks. I also decided that I was very tired of being a lump at events, and that I was finally going to sum up my courage and try fencing. I told my good friend Lord Sebastian, who kindly offered to bring loaner gear to practice for me to try, to give me a few months to get my body back in some kind of shape, and then I’d gladly don some gear and try it out. I’m nervous-excited to do it, but I really do think I’d have a blast. My Celt was super-supportive of this idea, which I have to admit is a giant relief. If he had teased me, I don’t think I would have the guts to do it. He even said he’d take pictures of me fencing at events when I got to that level.

Earlier this year, I became the editor-in-chief (chronicler) of our Shire’s newsletter. Wednesday, I finished fifth issue, and I’m mentioning this because I did everything inside of this issue myself. Normally, I receive submissions, and just lay it all out together, make it look nice and all. But it took the opportunity this time to do some research and write an article about the Vikings. The library was a great source, but unfortunately all it really did was find even more books I’d like to own. Like I need to spend more money on books. Regardless, I’m really proud of this issue, and I am going to try to write a few more articles from these books before I return them.

As for the rest of my projects, they’re coming along smoothly. The blanket I’m making for myself has four different colors on it already, and the granny squares I’m working on for my god-daughter, Lybbe, are still piling up. I have a few more projects in line to work on: an amigurumi Spartan for my Celt, an amigurumi ninja for my god-son, Izack, several stuffed toys, a pair of fingerless mitts for myself, a German Chocolate cake for my BFF’s birthday, and a rattle and blanket for the soon-to-be newest member of my Celt’s family, a baby cousin. I’m even getting it in my head to hand-make all my Christmas presents this year, and I know I purchased a few cross-stitch kits with that in mind. Seems like I have a lot of work ahead of me, but I’m having a blast doing it.

The blanket for me, made with Naturally Caron's Country yarn

And that’s all that counts!

I Fought the Fabric, and I Won, but There Were Some Casualties.

This weekend, I participated in an age-old SCA tradition: make all new garb the week before the event. You see, my Celt and I decided to take the little Celtlings on a weekend-long war against our good brothers to the north. This would be the Midrealm (us) against the Kingdom of Northsheild (them). Since the site is only an hour and a half away, it was convenient for us to try out camping events on the Celtlings. There’s just one problem with that:

They needed garb.

Don’t get me wrong. My Celt has made garb for them in the past. Good garb, passable garb, perfectly fine garb. But, oh no. Ms. Trying too Hard to be Period over here (that’s me, folks) decided that the Celtlings needed Viking/Celt garb to go with our own. And, of course, the biggest problem with that is that this little Viking does not sew.

Insert dramatic and frustrated sighing here.

Luckily, my friend Samona is working her hardest at learning patience, and was kind of enough to take me under her wing. She cut out all of the pieces for me, while I took notes on how to do all the measurements properly; and at fighter practice last Thursday, she walked me through each step of sewing the kirtle (and effectively, the tunic) together. It was easier than I thought. And the very next day, I spent an evening sewing another dress, and the tunic I needed.

The Littlest Celtling strikes her best fighting pose in her new kirtle.

I would love to say the story stopped here; that everything worked out and that this was the best learning experience of my life. But unfortunately, that was not the case. I spent yesterday afternoon learning how to sew hems and make necklines. I watched Samona do all this but was far too chicken to do any of it myself. Not to mention the fact that time was not on my side, and she does do it so much quicker.

But regardless, all of this good sewing fortune got me in the mood, and I woke up this morning with determination in my veins. I spent the better part of the morning fighting with a dress for myself, and to be honest, I’m surprised I still have all of my hair. The neckhole was not cut out, so I had to do that, and kind of messed that up. I screwed up sewing one of the gores for the side of the dress, so I had to cut out a new one of those. I’m convinced that I do not know how to cut a straight line, because I had to do a lot of fudging to get the gores to all go together properly. It took me a good hour longer than any of the other dresses, and since I’m sewing at a tiny desk, instead of a nice kitchen table (since, you know, I don’t own one), I had a lot of trouble with all the fabric.

By the time I pulled into my Celt’s driveway with the finished (I thought) dresses and tunic, I was ready to collapse on the couch and spend my afternoon playing Guitar Hero in peace. We even had two successful fittings. The dress for the Littlest Celtling and the tunic for the Middlest Celtling fit pretty well (though the Middlest Celtling’s tunic is a bit too short, and may immediately be a hand-me-down for his little sis).

The Middlest Celtling wasn't grumpy about his tunic; he was grumpy about getting his picture taken.

And then came the catastrophe.

When it came time for the Oldest Celtling to try her dress on, my worst sewing fear happened. The dress did not fit. It was so tight in the arms that she couldn’t even get the thing on to see if the rest of the dress fit. I was so tired and frustrated already at that point, that tears stung my eyes and I grabbed my phone (to call the sewing guru herself) and headed outside so the Celtlings wouldn’t see me upset. Samona, of course, saved the day. She remembered that we had originally planned on making a mock sleeve to fit beneath the Oldest Celtling’s sleeves, and figured that I must have sewed the sleeve on improperly; forgetting that it was wider than it was long. I spent a good hour with a sharp exactoknife cutting apart the side and sleeve seams and lo and behold, she was right.

After dinner, I made it home and managed to sew everything properly with an hours worth of work. I had to put in a small patch where I’d cut the fabric with the knife, but it’s finally done, and I’m confident that it will fit this time. I’m also decidedly chickening out with my own dress and refusing to tackle the hem or neckline until I can be under the tutelage of my guru once more.

I’m tired, my back hurts, and I want to be done sewing for a while. But I did learn a few things along the way:

1. Pins are friends, not food. You may have seen accomplished sewers doing a technique they call “finger pressing,” in which they just hold the fabric together and it magically stays in place. I do not recommend this for new sewers. Pin everything you can. It’s a bit tedious, but I found that it helps a ton when dealing with lines that are not straight, and fabric that is being fussy. You may have also seen the veteran sewers put pins between their lips for easier reach. I don’t recommend this either. Pin pricks on your fingers suck; imagine them on your tongue.

2. Invest in a good seam ripper. While the exactoknife, or a good pair of scissors may help in a pinch, they’re far too risky. You’re going to screw up, and a good seam ripper will do the job admirably. After all, that’s what it’s made for.

3. It’s ok to cry. Let it out. No one will blame you.

4. Always buy extra fabric. You may never need it, but then again, if you’re like me, you’ll be more than happy to have it if you screw up and have to cut an entire new gore or something. And if you’re lucky and you don’t end up needing it, you can always make a cute little pouch or bag later.

5. If at first you don’t succeed, call a friend who knows. I honestly don’t recommend learning to do this on your own. When you get stuck and you don’t know what to do, or if you think you’ve done it right, but you’re just not sure, it is extremely handy to have someone who knows this stuff, and can tell you if you’ve done it right or wrong. I’m thankful to have my guru, you have absolutely no idea how much.

6. Leave your sanity at the door. Let’s face it, you don’t know what you’re doing. You’re probably following someone else’s way of doing things. Things aren’t always going to be straight. You will probably break a needle. You will probably run out of bobbin thread right in the middle of a seam. More than likely, something with tear, or be sewn improperly, or come out all wrong. You need to be able to laugh at yourself. If you’re trying hard to do it, and you end up making a mistake, even a dramatic one, it’s ok. Use the “I’m new at this” excuse as long as you can.

I’m certainly going to plan better for next time, and I’m definitely not waiting until the weekend before to tackle this much sewing. I have ideas about garb and about what I want to do, and I know that I can no longer rely on others to do all my sewing. All I need is a reminder that it’s ok to make mistakes, and that taking a step back, and a fresh breath, can make all the difference.

My Life Through Projects

It seems lately that I have done nothing but gain new interest in fiber arts. I'm sending my Celt to Pensic (the 2 week-long SCA war) with extra money to find an inkle loom; I've been teaching myself how to embroider; I’ve started learning to crochet; I've purchased cross-stitch kits and two books to help me make stuffed animals; and yesterday, not only did I received a lesson in sewing period (late 9th century) kirtles, but I saw yet another period project I’d like to start learning. Not all of these projects are SCA period, of course. But there's a part of me that's always been jealous of friends who could knit or crochet, and making my own creations by any method has always been a huge draw.

It was with this jealousy and vigor that I attacked learning how to crochet. Once I got past the initial confusion and resistance to learning something that might challenge me, I discovered that I actually enjoyed doing it. I made a potholder, at first, and taught myself more stitches than the original single stitch that my fiber arts mentor, Meadhbh started me on. I found myself sitting in front of the television, crocheting blocks for a blanket I decided to tackle with ease and pleasure. I shopped for yarn with a friend with the glee of a child in a candy store. And I got an account on ravelry.com to show off my new found passion, as well as search for patterns to further my practice.

The beginnings of a granny-square blanket for my goddaughter, Lybbe.

Once that was conquered, it was easier to get past my life-long fear of sewing. As my sewing mentor, Samona, cut out rectangles and triangles of fabric, I dutifully took notes on measuring properly, the right side of the fabric to cut out, and how many of each shape I would need for which purpose. While my Celt practiced sword slinging andwarfare, I happily (yes, happily) sat at a sewing machine and plowed through my very first kirtle ever: a piece of garb for the littlest Celtling. This morning, I woke up with a drive, a desire, to pull out all the other rectangles and triangles Samona had cut out, and stitch them together too, all by myself!

My very first Kirtle, sewn for the Littlest Celtling.

This blog is labeled “one project at a time,” but as I write this opening entry, I’m wondering if perhaps it should be called something like, “my brain is on over-drive,” because even as I write this, I’m thinking of dozens of other things I could do. “My life through projects” sounds even more actuate. I think I’d just like to take a beginner’s look into learning all these things, and hope that some of this helps someone else.

If I can encourage one person to try something new, then I can feel like a success.