Perhaps Robin’s Relation

Either I mistake your shape and making quite, or else you are that shrewd and knavish sprite…

I think a Puck-like pixie has been following me, and the creature is certainly bent on minor misfortunes. In the last two days, I have:

…had my water bottle (my favorite that I received as swag from Wolf Trap) run over by a twelve passenger cargo van. Miraculously the thing is still functional, only dented in such a way to give it “character.”

…gotten hit full in the face. Truly an accident and no harm done, but suffice it to say that both myself and the other party involved felt quite sheepish and silly after the incident.

…had a large cup of soda spilled all over my general vicinity…coincidentally by the same person responsible for the previously mentioned incidents (do not be fooled, faeries totally befuddle individuals on occasion to distract you from the true source, which is of course their own fickle selves.)

…gotten attacked by a wayward ladder. Ridiculous occurrence caused by a strong wind blowing over a ladder that would have otherwise been quite harmless considering I was standing so far from it. However, the day was again full of boisterous gusts, and the ladder fell quite suddenly, only giving me enough time to shift slightly so that my shoulder caught the blow rather than my head. Painful, but ultimately not serious.

Some blame bad luck. I blame pixies.

Thou speak’st aright; I am that merry wanderer of the night

 

(Qts. A Midsummer Night’s Dream William Shakespeare)

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Daylight hours?!

It was a really early morning. I mean, early in that way where you have to keep reminding yourself that it truly is the AM hours, and that you did not somehow sleep yourself into the evening. The moon and the stars were still crisp as a paper’s edge. Despite the disorientation of functioning during normal waking hours, the day was so perfect in terms of weather. The air was genuinely cool, and a strong breeze bolstered me at every turn. I felt almost guilty because most of my friends and loved ones outside of my current location are suffering the nastiness of a hurricane, but I can’t help but feeling joyful. The sun was up the entire time I was working. One of the major blessings of my job at the moment is that I get to walk around outside quite a bit, so I was just exalting in the burst of autumn all over my skin.  My day otherwise was fairly uneventful (aside from my water bottle getting run over by a cargo van, but it is only slightly dented and still functioning so all is well), but I was almost completely content because it has felt like a really long time since I have been fully awake during the daylight hours. I missed them.

A “Brief” Recap of the Past Month

The last month has been made of the most exhausting material that I have yet faced. The hours, while consistent, have been long and against my normal sensibilities. Don’t mistake me, I am not going to take this time to piss and moan about “poor me, my job’s so hard,” because that tends to get annoying and self righteous. Instead, I just want to share the memories that strike me most from the event. Some of them are fun, some less so, but all are mine.

– The first weekend, like nothing I have ever experienced. Standing and watching….watching…change the fog…..stand…watch……my feet felt like someone had dipped them in iron. I could barely move them when I got home.

– The night PNinja and I were told to go through every single house in an hour and a half. There are seven haunted houses, all of them are in completely different areas of the park. We booked it like the lives of our pets depended upon our speed. We made it through 6 houses (one we had to do the next evening due to complications beyond our control) in 1 hour and 11 minutes. Yes, we are magical.

– That same night, I got to see this room in action for the first time. It’s my favorite room, in my favorite of the houses.

Part of a black light 3D house that had a theme of different superstitions

Just such a cool room!

-Speaking of that house, one night I got to leave my normal post to fill in for a tech who normally worked in the house during the event. What a glorious night frolicking with Sweet Shooter (tech manager for the house) and the Fantastic Frenchman, fixing things, checking on actors/scenery, and bringing justice to any ne’er-do-wells who would dare cause harm to either party. Twas an excellent night.

-Guest sweetness. A little strange, but one night, a young man came up to me holding out his hand and looking at me intently. I was on my guard, but I took his hand to shake. Glancing at my name tag, he said my name, and then, “…my name is Roman, and I hope you have a good rest of the evening.” He then proceeded to kiss my hand, and then skipped merrily out of the gate. Odd, but it did make me smile in the midst of a long night.

– This Ooze

An effect that I helped create.

– And the people. I fear I do not have a picture that adequately captures all the people who made this event awesome for me. Just know that I am beyond grateful, and though I will not miss the event, I will miss working with everyone in this capacity. Thank you all!

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Outakes (the rest of those moments/ Lettuce Lake)

On Tuesday, I found myself in my own good company at a most magical spot just down the street from my home. ZeldaStark turned me on to the location, and thus I found myself spending a good portion of that day at Lettuce Lake National Park.

The park does have some trails for jogging and biking, but I spent my time exploring a portion of the extensive boardwalks that wound through the riverlands.

The trees were dense in that strange way that marsh growth can seem so slender, and yet you can’t make out what’s beyond. However, then there is an opening.

I am horrible about looking up the names of things, because I enjoy making them up in the private recesses of my brain. I also feel a certain pretension giving a thing a name that has known itself far longer than I have been alive. Thus, I admire and am content to just love the appearance of these trees.

"Just eat the blossoms, that's the good stuff."

These were scattered all through the beds of the swamp leaves, and I was utterly charmed.

I found an observation deck, and this was a view off of one side.

A most lovely gator

This pretty came swimming up to join me. She was not large, maybe four to six feet, but I was mesmerized by her for a goodly while.

She circled around for a while…

…then she swam right up to the platform. I promise anyone who is concerned, I was actually completely out of reach, and I did not close that distance for the sake of the picture.

Though I wished to stay indefinitely, the sun began to descend, and I had another engagement.

And so, reluctantly, I took my leave with every intention of returning soon.

Making Sense

I find that I am perfectly content with being left alone to just bury myself  in yarn, paint, and the written word. I mean, I certainly go outside to  take in the sunlight and the natural world, but otherwise I would just rather be left to the seemingly endless endeavors these few activities provide me. People are awesome, but I have never found myself in want of company from the individuals that I know, even with my pursuits.  There is simply a child in me who just can’t understand why she ever has to put her books down, or give up in the middle of a row. In terms of knitting and spinning, they just make sense to me. Sounds silly, but I mean that in the deepest sense of the term. These crafts make sense to me in an innate way that I don’t feel even with paint. I don’t know if I can adequately describe it, but it’s like that ability to pick up the instrument and play. Stitches are a form of solace, projects are a release from anxiety. There is no mistake that is beyond repair, there is no end to the variation of appearance of even the most basic patterns. All projects have a rhythm, and your hands can find it without your eyes watching every move. When I make a mistake while knitting, I know even without looking. My hands just stop of their own accord, because the understanding is in them.  Spinning is much the same. The rhythm sits in your hands, all the tension is within your grasp to distribute through the raw material how you choose. Crafting just never seemed complicated to me. Follow the directions, manipulate the yarn this way, and then you get this beautiful product. Simple. No paperwork, no bills, no misunderstandings so large they will threaten your reality. Knitting makes sense to me in the midst of so much silliness that we as humans have thrust upon each other. Tis the way I can physically create order and beauty amidst the less than orderly and beautiful things in my existence. I am, quite literally, making sense (or nonsense if you mean it in the Wonderland definition of the word). I think we all need that, something we do consistently that just, simply put, makes sense.