Things do slip away from me.

Where were we . . . We went to Mississippi and had a fantastic time.  Lots of our friends were there, I gave out some presents, we sang a lot, the food we made was fantastic and we spent much less time laboring over meals, and we didn’t want to come home.  Basically, all went as planned.   And then we got home, took a couple of breaths, and hosted our annual spring event.  And then I started gardening and trying to prep for Maryland sheep and wool, clothing several friends, some birthdays and births . . . I honestly can’t remember it all.  Let’s try to stick with things I have photos for.

First, gifts.  I blame our friend Richard.  So many years ago, he convinced me to weave that first white wool belt, which led Drac to convince me to make that second belt, and then we three decided to pretend I’d lost all of my fingers since my loom was hurting my hands so badly.  Last year in Mississippi, two of my favorite friends asked very nicely if I could do a bit more weaving, and a third friend earned one without even realizing he was in any sort of a race.  So I showed up in Mississippi with these.

That one in the middle is for one of the tallest people I know, hence that strange series of bound warp threads.  That’s a slot for a closure, since knotting these belts eats up a lot of the length.  Have I mentioned that I’m loom shopping?  I dream of being able to cut my warps to the length I need, rather than settling for the wrong length and inventing inelegant hacks.

To be fair, I think it’s a good concept, but I’m not happy with my execution.  The clothes I made for friends were also well received, though I didn’t get photographic evidence at this particular event.  Soon, soon.

Hands-down, the best thing about events like this the inspiration I get from other artisans.  We live in the Early Period encampment there at Gulf Wars, and we’re surrounded by master artisans.  Our campmate Edward made this fantastic chair in Ireland several years ago.

I drooled over it.  A lot.  I’m getting a bit drippy now, though I’m still disturbed by the horrid pink thing on the back.

Also, Maggie has shoes I need to try to copy. The embroidery thread is indigo-dyed.  The  width of the toe box is part of the original find, not indicative of Maggie’s dainty (nigh-identical to mine) feet.  A friend of hers from the European Viking Market scene made them, and I really want to copy them.  You know, in my spare time.

In theory, we’ll have a functioning kiln and a new woodshop in camp next year , in addition to the smithy, period kitchen, and long hall.  I swoon at the thought.  I can’t believe the coolest kids in town let me camp with them.

I’m going to try to go up early next year to help work on the hall, which needs more flag-stones and some roof repairs.  I accept that wood-working isn’t for me, but I love the idea of doing some stonework for this encampment.

The rest of the trip was all about the people.  Isn’t it always.

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