At Timeline Fair, I borrowed a Viking cooking pit which was in use, to test one of the cooking pots I made recently.

As I had read was the way to do it, I soaked the pot over night and then filled it with fresh water and set it near to the fire pit. Over time, the pot warmed and was turned and moved gradually closer to the coals until it was sitting right on the charcoal. The water steamed and seethed, and I lifted it out using the cloth I had been using to turn it with.

I am very chuffed that it worked! :)

( it is hard to photograph steam )

We used the hot water to make cups of tea in some of the cups and mugs I also made. :)

An observer was startled to see that there were no feet on the pot. I have seen plenty of examples with and plenty of examples without. (there are so many at the museumoflondon site that have no trace or mention of feet, and a few with remarks about missing feet to convince me that cooking jars were used without feet in some times and places)

I like the footed ones, but starting with simple forms seems wise as I sort of expect to lose a few while I fine tune my techniques.

All somewhere between wet and green, these are the first things I've made, so while I am happy with them as first efforts (after a loooong hiatus) they are all sub-optimal in some way or other.

I am using commercially available clay for simplicity, and for its predictability.

Photos under the cut:

( here be three photos )

They are all too heavy, which is expectable at this point. The walls are too thick toward the bottom, and the uneven heights and thicknesses at the top show that my centering has room for improvement.

I look forward to reaching a point where the basics are automatic, and I can focus on reproducing the lines of different medieval/historical styles. Meanwhile, I take comfort from looking at actual artifacts and noting that many of the common wares are a bit approximate, so even my current line of wonky-ware will look authentic enough. :)

Next thing, though, is clearly to actually finish something by firing it. Sourcing glaze is proving problematic, as it appears that the most viable option involves either going to or ordering from a pottery supply place some hours drive away. Budget wise, that's not happening this week, at least.

I'd like to register "azure a triquetra argent". Simple, distinctive (locally, at least) and I like it. But it conflicts with "Gules, a triquetra argent" which is already registered.

So I up the complexity to a former favourite arrangement: "azure three triquetras argent". But that conflicts with "Azure, three triquetras Or" which is already registered.

So I could bump the complexity again and try for (My woeful grasp of blazon fails me) a field division per chevron azure and argent, three triquetras counterchanged. (I hope that makes sense).

Or I could get cute and have the same field division with one triquetra counterchanged, and render it with the chevron division running neatly up each of the lower "legs" of the triquetra. That could look neat, but it eliminates the simplicity of rendering it, which is sort of the point.

Before I got keen on the simplicity of 'azure a triquetra argent', I was thinking of 'azure three triquetras in chief argent'.

But I would much prefer to have the charges larger. Or a lone charge for maximum boldness. Maybe I should look into simple border treatments to bring about the required uniqueness?

I know I need to make a geteld next. The brief is pretty typical; satisfactory appearance and documentability; light and portable; stable; big enough to comfortably house two adults and their gear (I must be able to lift my arms over my head to dress.) Being able to hang curtaining inside is under consideration.

I am up to the stage where I cut out graph paper and make wee models of the tent and the furniture it is expected to contain.

I believe I have easily enough of the white canvas for that, but I need to do an inventory to see how far I am off having enough to make the walls for the long-planned blue-roofed pavillion.

The brief for that is to make a large blue roof shaped like a somewhat flattened geteld/double bell and make straight walls by cutting the white canvas length ways for a wall about 1.3m high. It will be largeish; it must look okay, must not be implausible construction even if it's not directly documentable, must be portable, stable, not unusually difficult to set up and so forth.

I would also like it if the blue roof section could be pitched as a more conventional height shade, using an extra pole section and longer ropes. I have mundane use for such a thing a couple of times a year.

The design process is different for the two tents because with the geteld, I have ample canvas to be able to fiddle with the dimensions all I like. With the blue-roofed pavillion, I have a set amount of canvas to optimise the use of.

But that is a project for later. Meanwhile, geteld models. Then finding a place and doing the cutting and labeling. Then it will be time for the sewing. Oh yes. And then, when the tent skin is done, the woodwork! :)

Maybe I will paint this one *before* sewing it together?

Suth Moot was most excellent. I was very glad that it lived up to the description that I'd given my SO who is a newcomer to the SCA. The classes and activities were informative and fun, the people wonderful and the feasts were truly marvelous.

The site was more lush and green than in previous years but well drained and the weather was dry and fair from Saturday on. There were not the clouds of mosquitoes I had feared, nor were there wasps hanging about as I've come to expect, which was a good thing.

My children spent most of their time in "kid mob" formation either engaged in informal games with their peers in the sand pit area or one of the shelters, playing boffer battles near the band stand or swept into an official kids activity, of which there were many. Many, many, many.

I did get sick -- a sore throat which I would have taken to the event with me, but which only announced itself on Saturday when all I could really do was step-up my hand-washing protocols and avoid breathing in the direction of people who I reckoned might be more than usually susceptible to picking it up.

The girls and I went off site on Sunday to attend a family occasion. I was feeling very ill for most of the day and I was worried that I would spend the rest of the event lying in my tent, but the malaise lifted somewhat an hour or so after arriving back on site. I was still sick, but it was tonsillitis-sick, not nausea and migraine sick.

That level of unwellness persisted into Monday, through pack down and the trip home. And I actually still have it, having lost at Doc-lotto at the walk-in clinic on Monday and having had to go back today to actually get the antibiotics it was obvious I needed all along. *pout, grump*

I'm inspired to make stuff, SO is inspired to make stuff, the girls want to go again next year... which leaves me in an interesting position. I would like to get to Festival with SO sometime in the next year or so, but the logistics are interesting and the combined "missing out" factor of all five of us not being able to go to Suth Moot is substantial enough to potentially outweigh the "missing out" factor of two of us not being able to go to Festival. Especially considering that I'm the only one who feels the full weight of missing out on Festival. Hmm.

Either way, there are projects to work on. A geteld, at least. Some bags and boxes, too. And a decent bed has come up the list of priorities; air beds suffice, but do not really make for restful sleep, and good sleep is really important to enjoyment of any camping event (and survival of the trip home).

And GSG is looking interesting and SO and I are keen to go. One obvious problem we need to solve is how to get from Hobart to the event site, but I am hoping that there will be enough wayfarers arriving sans cars for there to be default contingencies for that.

In the lead up to the Assassin's Tourney and Ball, I ran up some Viking garb for sepharen (known hereafter as "D") who was effectively attending his first event. He's keen to make his own garb, so will use the general dimensions of the tunic to make more garb in the styles he prefers. Authenticity is important to him, but having enough garb to get through a five day camping event in a few weeks means that he'll be getting a crash course on machine sewing. Once he has enough garb to keep him decent for a while, he can get stuck in to the finer points of hand sewing. (puns intentional)

Being me, I over-reached by deciding to make myself something new to wear. I've been fiddling around with more structured bodices of more flattering later period garb for a couple of years, and I made a calico bodice with some boning which seemed to do what it's supposed to. So I finally cut the purply shot silk I have been dithering over using for ages, and made a late 16th century style Venetian frock.

I got it built to lock-up* but when I laced it and tried it on, it was skewy. Erk! But I had run out of time, so I had to sweep stuff into the car, pick up D and go, go, go! At the event, I asked Lady Isobel for assistance in getting the lacing right. Oddly, we did exactly what I thought I had done the first time, only this time it worked. Hrm. The dress looked fine from a little distance, and plenty of people exhibited signs of fabric-love. :)

D looked gorgeous in his Viking garb (I may be just a teeny bit biased) and reports enjoying many aspects of the evening, the food and entertainment, the people and even a little dancing, which was very game of him since he has not even seen any SCA dancing before, and does not regard himself as a natural dancer. The event was lovely and enjoyable overall, and the assassination shenanigans were highly hilarious from time to time. The set-up of having children as messengers provided an added dimension, as people could conspire at a distance, send poison to unsuspecting recipients and at one point someone tried to send a tarantula to Her Imminence, wrapped in a note. Early in the evening, D was delivered a note which read, confusingly, "Please don't kill me! ~anon." He says he would have complied if he knew who this "Anon" person was. "Dead" people wore a red ribbon to distinguish them, and could be resurrected by paying the apothecary, or by helping in the kitchen for five minutes.

At one point early in the Ball, D paid for a messenger to recite a message, anonymously, to ten people at random.

The message was:
"Never gonna give you up,
Never gonna let you down,
Never gonna run around and desert you.
Never gonna make you cry,
Never gonna say goodbye,
Never gonna tell a lie and hurt you."

Yeah. That's a Rick-Roll.

I explained to the lovely child who was delivering the message that the message was an internet joke which some people would recognise and think was funny, and some people would not understand at all. She was absolutely wonderful in persisting in delivering the strange message clearly time after time to bemused people. Some of the reactions were priceless.

Later in the evening, His Imminence, the about to be Baron of Krae Glas was assassinated. I was told that on discovering that the person who sponsored his assassin was his lady Her Imminence, he had one of their children deliver her a message reading "My name is Inigo Montoya. You killed my father. Prepare to die!"

We did both get killed, in the end. A group of us were loitering on the back steps and, having been lulled into a false sense of security by Lady Arganhell who was legitimately serving food and had assured us that it was not poisoned, we ate the food on Leif's tray, too. He went into the hall and returned with a big arm-load of death-token ribbons, handing them out saying "Hey, you're all poisoned, one for you, one for you, there you go, yes, you too..."

When the evening drew to a close, it was revealed that the master assassin was, not the about-to-be Baroness, and not the constabulary (who were not corrupt. Much) but, in fact, young Master Peregrine! Huzzah!

*I could wear it, but the trim needs couching and the bodice is as yet unlined. But that's okay because I want to re-jig it a little to make the silk lie smoother, take a pattern from it and maybe add some boning. After wearing it, I think I could bring the hem up a little, too. Maybe it will be ready for Krae Glas invest/elevation?

I'm making a set of male Viking garb; Four gore linen t-tunic down to mid thigh, to be worn with innocuous black or brown trousers and sensible boots.

I am wondering whether there are any styles of Viking headgear (for a male) which have a brim which would provide more protection from the sun than the classic fur trimmed caps I see so much of?

If not, would a sensible straw or felt hat suffice for practical purposes, or would that skew the attire to appear to be from some other time and place, and if so, where?

Or I suppose what I am asking is; what's a time and place which utilises simple t-tunics and sensible hats for our climate?

I've not posted here much for many months due to a combination of factors. But I'm all enthused after Surveying Expedition, and this is the right place to enthuse.

First though, November saw the Lyos Memorial water-fight Picnic, which happened to fall on a day when it rained so heavily and continuously that a large pond/small lake formed in the lower reaches of the park. We set up the tent and sunshade in the warm, teeming rain, but could not light the fire.

Astoundingly, a small number of heroic people attended despite the unremitting rain, and we sat in the tent to chat and eat our picnic. The children played boffer fighting in the ephemeral lake until we packed down and fled to drier destinations.


The kids were paddling an imaginary Viking ship toward the shores of central Victoria.

On the way home, the radio news told me that large parts of the district were flooded, homes evacuated and roads closed.

The Timeline Fair was also in November. I was selling fabric and furs out of my stash for the duration, but I did get to stroll around many areas of the site on Sunday, and I found the other reenactment groups just marvelous. I've not seen many of them before, and the range and quality of their work was impressive and inspiring.

I also enjoyed the startling juxtapositions of people and objects from different points in time. From my spot at the top of the hill, my favourite "Timeline Moment" was this, in which demure ladies in flowing pink dresses and bonnets were participating in spear throwing class given by the Ancients:



December saw William Marshall come and go without me. I'd spent four or five consecutive weekends at field events, and as my kids were reluctant to go to yet another SCA thing, I decided to stay home instead. If WM had been a feast in a hall as I've come to know and love it, I would have tried to find someone to look after the kids and gone along.

WM was my first big event, and I try to make new garb for it each year; something a bit higher effort than another chemise or underdress and surcote combination. Now I feel overdue for making a new gown. I do have enough practical garb to get through Suth Moot at Easter, so I'm trying to convince myself to just finish and embellish my huge velvet dress, but... I found more of the linen my favourite dress is made of a couple of weeks ago, and I am tempted to make another. Only with proper seam finishes, and the errors in cut corrected.

Really, though, what I need to do is make some new garb for my two younger children. They might be outgrowing their grubby urchin personas along with their simple surcotes. Hm. I wonder what ever happened to the short linen lengths I was going to make parti-colour tunics out of? (Please don't tell me there is a fabric stash I haven't yet been through!)

Meanwhile, Kittelty's auctions have a sale today and I want to go have a look. Aside from anything else, it's meant to be 40 degrees later, and I am curious to know what that will be like in this first hot auction day in their new venue, which is a huge, unventilated tin shed. Not only might the buyers flee toward mid afternoon, the auctioneer sits on an elevated podium, and the temperature up there will probably be ferocious. Interesting to me, at least. :)

My hub spoke tent was set up on Sunday and today I went and fetched it home.

The tent was intact and fine despite it having been so windy today that it blew my tent out of the ground. It was sort of lolling at a 45 degree angle, the walls having come off their pegs in a few places and one of the wind-lines having slipped to full extension.

The roof was still clear of the ground, the spokes still set into the hub keeping the tent roof taut.

I secured the flapping walls back onto the groundsheet pegs (I had been lazy and not pegged them out properly) and tightened the windline so the tent was secure enough to enter, then I took it down the usual way.

The only damage was that one cheapo metal eyelet, which had been holding a ground-peg rope-loop, tore out off. I think the cheapo eyelets are the most serious weakness that tent has, and in future I would use practically anything else for preference.

Renovating my kitchen or bathroom (or both).

Replacing my laptop and buying two new desktops and hardware to network them and my TV/music gear all together, including backup media.

Buying a big-arse flatscreen. (not that I want one, just that I could for that kind of money)

Putting roofed areas out the front of my garage and workshop, and the timber to make custom shelving.

Paying someone to install shade structures on three sides of my house.

Getting built-in air conditioning.

Paying a builder to put walls where I want walls inside my overly open-plan house, then having an extravagant reno-warming party.

Taking my children to Rowany Festival four or five times or to Suth Moot ten or more times.

What I can't buy with that or any amount of money is the ability of people who are advertising the benefits of their event in ways only relevant to people local to the site to consider whether it's useful to send that message to people on the other side of the world. *shrug*