Grace’s Move over Joss, Tehre’s a new sheriff in town
This was a great post. I have been trying to pay more attention to what I watch, read, experience etc. Go ahead and fly to the moon!

Rachel’s Writer first, blogger second
I myself have wondered at the idea of a “topic blog” like diabetes etc. It’s hard for me to see so much of my life through that lens. But when it’s done well, it’s interesting to diabetics and non-diabetics alike. Good writing is good writing.

Brigit’s Hair Waxing Experience
Brigit chatted with me about this a bit last week in my backyard. I wish I could have recorded our conversation and played it for you because it was awesome. Nothing is ever like the magazines say. That’s one of the things I love about the Internet.

SuziCate’s Writing For The Soul Of It
I love the line about “I’d rather be writing than publishing.” The quotes are awesome and the sentiment is similar to my own.

Peg’s My Right to Write
Your last paragraph got me all misty eyed. All very awesome reasons to write and I’m so glad SuziCate helped you get your start.

Erin’s The How and the Why
First, I have always loved your blog name. But the pack rat in me has to keep all archives forever! And I thinking writing with your grandma in mind is something everyone should do.

Megan’s Fireflies in a jar
I love the idea of Tink seeing this new aspect of your writing. Like when we realize our parents have lives other than us.

Sally’s Why Do I Do This?
Hooray newcomers! So many of us struggle with the whys. But someone needs to chronicle the fact that the house didn’t burn down today.

Ruth’s Completing a Breath
Reading that you have bought pens off of strangers makes you my new hero. You need a big cape with a pen on it! And yes, it’s a need. I struggled to put words down for this topic myself today even after having so much enthusiasm for it.

And my own No such thing as too much information

This one was a toughie. I loved so many of these entries! But I’m declaring Peg the winner. Her last paragraph in particular just really struck me of the fervent need to write, much like Ruth’s need to rip pages out of magazines or buy pens from strangers. I also love that Peg is writing so much these days. I’m jealous a bit. And I think that kind of dedication also deserves a reward.

So huzzah to Peg! And thank you to everyone for playing along and joining in the fun. Every entry means a ton to me and I’m so glad you have fun with this too.

©2012 ... in a Bottle. All Rights Reserved.

———
I like to write especially about things that are not usually spoken of but really should be. You’d think with so very many women’s magazines telling us every little beauty thing monthly that they would not leave out the really important stuff. For example, this is my version of what they should tell women about the Hair Waxing experience:

Waxing is one way to remove unwanted body hair (well, except for the times when you actually did want the hair – like the other half of my eyebrow) that so damages the follicle that the only thing that can grow back is a baby fine peach fuzz….at least that is the way it’s working on my body.

No more razors, jells, razor burn, lotions, weird chemicals, cuts, toting the stuff while traveling and having it confiscated out of your carry on but the airport ‘authorities’… that’s right, like your going to high jack a plane with a Venus razor or some Nair. Perhaps, per the Venus advertisement, they imagine you might ‘release the goddess within’ and that goddess might be Medusa or something evil and take over the plane. Who knows? No doubt there is a whole separate rant about airline carry-on searches brewing within me. I travel a lot.

Anyway, I’ve been gifted with a trip to a day spa and will experience my first ever waxing… which seems like I will ultimately save a lot of money by NOT needing a variety of product to deal with hair removal. I think ‘hmmmm – waxing, let’s try it’. So what was there to lose besides a bunch of unwanted hair? Right?

The spa is beautiful. They bring you citrusy water or a fruit smoothie. There are plates of sweet or savory munchies to tempt you. Large overstuffed furniture to lounge in while waiting or afterward while recovering and preparing yourself to leave this alcove of peace and serenity to face the busy world again. Fountains trickle and soothing music plays while you shed your clothes and don an incredibly thick, soft white terry robe. It is all soooo good!

Yup – here to be pampered -that’s me.

My name is called and I am escorted to a small room. I tell the lovely, very pretty, very young lady what I want done and yes, that I am a first timer. “No problem.” she smiles “We’ll start with the armpits first.” Grrrreeaaat.

So first goes on the cleanser to remove any unwanted body oils and residuals of other products. Makes sense and feels nice. Next there is powder to protect the skin… that a little worrisome, what are we protecting my skin from?… but feels nice and smells good. The wax – which is warm and honey smelling, glides on with a roller thingie. Kind of a nice feeling actually. Then there is a paper strip that is laid on the wax and then there is rubbing until the wax cools. All good so far. Until… I am asked to place my hand ‘here’ and help pull the skin tight. No problem. Then it happens…
RIP – in one fell swoop.

There was an instantaneous snatching of that paper strip in the opposite direction of the hair growth that left me gasping. PAIN – can you say PAIN??? Upon recovery a whole bunch of language comes streaming out of my mouth. She never even slowed – the next paper was quickly smoothed on and ripped off just as the first.

OH

MY

DEAR

LORD

And so it went. The legs were easier and didn’t bleed as much. Yup. Little dots of blood seeped from each follicle on my arm pits. I walked around for the rest of the day and all the next with my upper arms held out from my body like I was Arnold. Good thing I heal fast. The bikini line…. well, now, my oh my….. there was apparently not enough powder because I actually lost some skin. Again, good thing I heal fast. The eyebrows were nothing after all of this except that I am now missing part of one.

It was certainly an experience. I understand now that the robes are white because it is easier to bleach the blood out of them. And the lounge is there so you can recover enough to accept the idea of actually putting clothes back on over all the bright red oozing raw bits while you are getting your breath back. And yes, please, have a glass of water made all pretty and tasty with the orange and lemon slices floating to settle your nausea while, ideally, your blood pressure is coming back into the range of normal.

The effect afterwards however is oh-so-very worth it. There is no stubble. Nothing much of anything for almost 8 weeks. What hair actually survives and tries to grow back is baby fine and on me, not particularly visible. Believe it or not… I can and will continue to do this to myself. It does get easier as the roots are less and less attached somehow.

Yep, I save the $100 and buy a kit from the Wal-Mart. $8 every 6 months and I’m good. I do still occasionally splurge and allow a ‘professional’ to do it but all-in-all doing it myself is just fine…. Though I do need help with my armpits. If I had started doing this at 18 I’d likely not have anything to deal with at this point in my life. So, all in all it was worth the initial shock and pain but really you’d think any one of the many beauty magazines would warn a girl of the truth of the matter. I am thinking that Happy Hour might be the prefect prep for a first timer.

©2012 ... in a Bottle. All Rights Reserved.

This week, a friend was lamenting to me about how complicated life was getting. He blurted out, “sometimes I just wish it could be like it was five years ago when everything was great.” I laughed at him, “Really?! Not me! Every year is better than the last as far as I’m concerned. Not that it sucked five years ago, but that was then. I don’t want to go back to all that. I just want to concentrate on this year.”

Rich teases me because I pull out the camera or iPhone so much. I record cute things Ian does. I capture clever license plates. I share funny things anyone says on Twitter. But I love to go back through all that. I had an unplanned vet appointment for Isis yesterday and had to wait a long time as they squeezed us in. Sitting in an empty exam room, I could scroll through my camera roll or Twitter feed or blog to stroll down memory lane. I don’t care that most of that is public. I just love having it for myself.

It pleases me that I don’t necessarily have to have Disney movies on my phone to entertain the boy. I just have to have tons of “b roll” footage of him doing anything and he’s fascinated to see that little boy in the phone doing stuff just like he does. We all like to see others going through familiar scenarios.

That’s what I love about writing online. I like sharing the mundane magic of our everyday lives. I like knowing we’re not the only ones struggling with toddler molars or pool chemicals or the astronomical cost of concrete. And there is some small risk in sharing, but there is so much more for me personally to be gained.

Am I a writer? Probably. But I’m also a photographer, a historian, a journalist, an editor and an artist. I’m an over-sharer and an sympathizer. The world of blogging (and by blogging I mean sharing my life on the Internet) has forever changed my world for the better. I am no novelist. I’m barely a poet. But I am a writer.

Remembering — no, motivating myself to write on a regular basis is that same struggle others have with going to the gym. I come up with every single reason to not do it, but invariably after each post I feel worlds better than before. So while someone who goes to the gym may not call themselves an athlete, we are all putting in the time and energy and that deserves something. So yes, I am a writer. I’m a writer because I write.

©2012 ... in a Bottle. All Rights Reserved.

First, I am going to the EVO conference in just a few more weeks. I’ve never been to that before and it’s in Utah, which I’ve also never been to so I’m double-excited. After making all those plans, though, and realizing I’m going to a conference for work mere days before BlogHer, I just couldn’t justify the extra expense and stress of another conference that soon. Our summer is already jam-packed as it is. I’m trying not to over-schedule myself, monetarily or emotionally. My therapist would be proud.

Taking a pass on BlogHer has made me put a lot of thought into why I go and my relationship with this blog. There are many aspects of BlogHer that don’t speak to me. I’m not trying to monetize my blog. I’m not worried about SEO. I’ve made a whopping $50 on all my writing thus far (thank you, BlogHer!) and that wouldn’t even cover a fraction of my web hosting fees. But when I talked with Rich about the $1000+ it will cost me to get to Utah this summer, he shrugged. “You don’t buy hockey equipment. You’re not going to Pennsic. This is your big thing. It’s important to you.”

But why is it important to me? Am I blogger? Am I a writer? Am I an artist? Am I an armchair historian? Is this an electronic scrapbook?

That got me to thinking about all of us. My parents will occasionally tell me “you should write down the words that Ian can say now.” They’re unaware of my monthly newsletters to Ian or all the images I’m chronicling. So how much of any of this do we do for others versus ourselves? Do we write things down like a virtual grocery list to be discarded as irrelevant in a few weeks or are we crafting paper boats to set out into the night hoping that others will find them?

I lost a month recently. I tried doing a post ever day in May to get my writing fingers nimble again but ran out of steam before Memorial Day weekend. My in box at work is insane, I have lost a large number of toddler socks somewhere in the house, I’m being overcome by yellow summer squash in my back yard and I still haven’t a picked a date for when we’ll have Bunco at my house. But I’m carving out time to sit down at this keyboard.

So let’s spend some time ruminating on all that in our latest volume of Living Out Loud. Tell me if you’re writer. Is it important to you? What got you started writing (or have you not yet started, though you keep meaning to)? Do you think you’ll be writing in 5, 10 or 20 years? What does that mean to you? Who do yo think will be reading it all then?

Details include:

• Write something personal about yourself using the previous paragraphs as a guideline. Do not feel that you have to address each prompt above. The spirit of this project is to share something about yourself; I’m just throwing out ideas.

• Once you have completed your entry and posted it, please email me the link at genie [at] inabottle [dot] org. Remember, if you don’t email me, I’m likely to forget to include you in the recap!

• If you do not have a blog to host your story, you can email me the story directly and I will add it here as a guest post giving you credit. The more the merrier!

• The due date for entries is Sunday, July 3rd (the first Sunday of the month and a holiday weekend so plan accordingly) at 5pm Eastern.

• Once I have collected all the entries, I will post a wrap-up to list them all and announce a winner. The winner will receive a $25 Amazon gift card but all participants will receive fame and glory and a link on our Living Out Loud blogroll.

Note that this gives you about three weeks to collect your thoughts. If you’re going out of town, drag yourself to the computer mid-week. If you’ve pondered what you might say for so many previous LOLs, here’s your chance to let us have it! I’m super excited about this topic and can’t wait to see what you all have to share. Let us know why you ever pondered putting electronic pen to virtual paper, as it were.

©2012 ... in a Bottle. All Rights Reserved.

Rachel’s Day Four
I’m so happy for your new opportunity and that it’s helping you sleep more soundly!

Deb’s Sweet Dreams
That feeling of waking up before the alarm is awesome!

Peg’s Wake Me Up Before …
Wow there’s a lot going on in your house at all hours! Nobody is sleeping!

SuziCate’s O Sleep, Where Art Thou
I am a snooze button artist! And yes, my best ideas come in the middle of the night.

And my own Sleeping with the wolves

This was a fun foray into a new topic and I’m very interested in what everyone had to say. I feel lucky to get as good of sleep as I do. I have slept through a lightning storm right outside our hotel room where Rich thought the sky was on fire. I have a talent for sleeping HARD.

This month I pick Erin as our winner. I feel horrible for the hard time she’s had getting sleep. And no, it’s not good practice for having a kid. It will just give you more to worry about. So Erin wins our $25 Amazon gift card this month but everyone earns my gratitude for participating!

Stay tuned for our next topic soon! I’m trying to write something every day this month so I have no excuse to not get off my butt and announce a topic.

©2012 ... in a Bottle. All Rights Reserved.

I think we all try to learn from our own experiences to know how we should handle things with others. But as Rich likes to say, I was raised by wolves. I never had an allowance. I never got grounded. I didn’t have designated chores. And I never had a bedtime.

When I was an infant I slept in my parents’ room. They were co-sleepers before co-sleeping was cool, mostly because there were five of us living in a two bedroom house under major construction. I first slept on a shelf/drawer that my father built next to their bed. And I eventually moved to a crib at the foot of their bed. I stayed in that crib until I was four and a half.

We then moved across the street to a much larger three bedroom house. But since my oldest brother was 22 at the time and had never had his own room, my parents gave him the master bedroom and they took the mother-in-law suite in the back. I shared that room with my parents until I was at least 7 or so? I can’t really remember.

My parents don’t have similar schedules at all. Mom is a morning person and Dad is a night owl. I stayed up many a night watching Johnny Carson with Daddy and it’s one of my favorite memories. I don’t ever remember being tired as a kid. (They also let me drink coffee and at 6 feet I don’t think it stunted my growth.)

If I did go to bed before Daddy, I went to bed with Mom. I remember lying in bed with her having her rub my back. As she would fall asleep herself I would make a little wiggle to wake her back up so she’d keep patting me. Funny how I’m the one now patting Ian and falling asleep in the bed.

Whenever Daddy would come to bed, he would pick me up and carry me back to my room. Sometimes it would wake me up but I always pretended to be asleep because I loved how it felt being carried back and tucked into bed.

So here we are with a child of our own and no rules. For his first year or so he never even had pajamas. We only started using them in the winter because he kicks his blankets off. We do talk about night night now and we do have a routine. But sometimes that routine starts later than others. And sometimes he’s just not tired.

Lots of books talk about how you’re supposed to train your child to sleep or teach them how to go to sleep on their own. But I was never trained that I know of and I sleep like a corpse (it’s kind of alarming). Really, even as an adult I’d rather go to bed snuggled up with someone patting my back than by myself while everyone else stays awake. It just seems like common sense to me.

Ian will have plenty of time to sleep all day without my help. For now I just want to make sure he’s happy and safe and comfy. It’s what my parents did for me so it only seems fair I pass it on.

©2012 ... in a Bottle. All Rights Reserved.

Fast forward to this morning when literally the first thing Ian did when he woke up was start crying and flipping out because I had put a shirt on him. Ah, how times change.

The biggest thing we weren’t prepared for these days is our child no longer sleeping. It has turned our house upside down these last two weeks (which is part of the reason I’ve been so silent online). Now instead of tending to a crying newborn, we have a wailing, flailing, thrashing toddler who weighs 30 pounds!

I reached out to my birth class classmates at 3am for some advice. While the advise was slim, the sympathy was overflowing and it was nice to know we aren’t the only ones not sleeping. It got me to thinking about just how many people are walking around with some sort of sleep issue. My father has sleep apnea. My mother has been sleep deprived since approximately 1960. My friend has insomnia and has to play one of 4 DVDs to go to sleep at night.

My father once said that sleep deprivation is a national crisis. I wonder how many people on the road do stupid things because they’re tired. All those people who can’t put their state registration tags on correctly were probably doing it on less than three hours sleep.

Sleep and dreams and that third of our day (HA!) have been on my mind lately. So I thought it would make a good Living Out Loud topic. Tell us about your own relationship with sleep. Does it come easy for you or not? Are you a covers thief? Do you snore? Is there a particular side of the bed you have to use? Did you sleep well as a baby? As a kid? As a young adult? What’s the stupidest/craziest thing you’ve done that’s caused you sleep? Are you a snuggler or do you need a certain demilitarized zone around you?

Details include:

• Write something personal about yourself using the previous paragraphs as a guideline. Do not feel that you have to address each prompt above. The spirit of this project is to share something about yourself; I’m just throwing out ideas.

• Once you have completed your entry and posted it, please email me the link at genie [at] inabottle [dot] org. Remember, if you don’t email me, I’m likely to forget to include you in the recap!

• If you do not have a blog to host your story, you can email me the story directly and I will add it here as a guest post giving you credit. The more the merrier!

• The due date for entries is Sunday, May 8th (this upcoming Sunday) at 5pm Eastern.

• Once I have collected all the entries, I will post a wrap-up to list them all and announce a winner. The winner will receive a $25 Amazon gift card but all participants will receive fame and glory and a link on our Living Out Loud blogroll.

I’m only giving us until this Sunday (which is Mother’s Day so plan accordingly), but we all wait until the last minute anyways, so what’s a little short notice. Here’s hoping I can get us back on “schedule” for June!

©2012 ... in a Bottle. All Rights Reserved.

So let’s see what we have!

Rachel’s Clouds over blue sky
I am so proud of you for holding onto that domain. It’s what I think you should be doing. Now to just get there from here.

SuziCate’s Freedom Of The Big Blue Sky
I love the line “We are told we are only allowed to stretch the fabric of our lives so far.” And I also love the creativity of sewing something new. It’s so exciting!

Peg’s Blue Skies Ahead
My mom and brother were bookkeepers and accountants and I totally get that “no time for imagination” thing. Imagine their dismay when I quit engineering to minor in Creative Writing! And I think your skies will be blue again, if nothing else through your blog. Go you!

Kim’s Well, why not?
Welcome back, Kim! Leslie’s quote made me laugh out loud so hard! Whew, boy! And I also thought about those notebooks of “dream homes” we made. With glass-walled pools and indoor slides and craziness. I love all your blue-skying. Just don’t break your arm before final exams.

Deb’s The Sky’s the Limit
Ha, when I first read this I was all, “ooh, Deb does suck at blue skying.” But I can see glimmers of blue in there. Plant a garden. Get a pool. Go on a date. Then again, wanting what you have is good too.

Karal’s Blue Sky Crazy
Welcome back, Karal! I’m glad you’re coming out of your comfort zone in many ways.

Megan’s In my blue sky
Ironic that Megan helped me come up with this theme and was so panicked she wouldn’t have something to write. But I’m pleased to see a little blue sky in your world.

Ben’s How to Blue Sky
Hehe, I should have made him write his entry before everyone else did. Ben had to work all day Sunday so we let him slide his entry in a smidge late since he was our inspiration. And now I’m even more renewed to do some more “blue sky”ing.

Donal’s Blue skies smiling at me …
I totally give him a pass for being late since he was a) sick all weekend and b) put so much thought into his entry. What a blue sky!

And my own This old house

I am so pleased with how many of you participated, particularly since the topic was a little daunting for some. And I think we’ve all learned a bit about ourselves and how we should spread our wings a little more. It pleases me to have such a diverse list of people’s dreams documented, all in the spirit of living out loud.

It was hard to pick a winner. SuziCate’s line really grabbed me. And Kim’s made me laugh many times. And Ben did offer us a tutorial on blue skying. But I enjoyed reading Donal’s. It was a straight up day dream of all thing things his blue sky camp would have. And no one was counting up how much flushable toilets would cost at this facility. I was taken along on his ride through his camp. And that is really what blue skying should be about.

So I choose Donal as our winner this month. He persevered through illness over the weekend and stayed up late last night to share with us. Donal will receive our customary $25 Amazon gift card but everyone has earned high praise and mad props for sharing. While I sometimes feel like forcing myself to write these will kill me dead at times, I always love the outcome and I always love reading what you’ve all done. Go team!

©2012 ... in a Bottle. All Rights Reserved.

——————

My Blue Sky has been with me in some form for many years. It would almost be plausible, if the right financing could be found – like winning a lottery.

It begins with a large piece of land – about 100 acres. Part of it would be cleared, part would be wooded. Most of it would be pretty flat, but some of it would be somewhat hilly – rolling. There would either be a small lake on it, or it would front on a lake or a fairly large river.

Somewhere in a secluded but accessible location on this land, probably in a clear area near the woods, would be a house. It would take the form of a fortified manor, taking its inspiration from some of the “castles” in the Scottish Highlands that were intended more to protect from marauding neighbours and reivers than to resist a determined attack.

But the house is not really the focus of the dream. That would occupy an area some distance from the house, and cater to a very different sort of visitors.

The dream is a summer camp, a very specialized one, with a Mediaeval theme, where boys and girls (quartered suitably far apart to protect the boys from the girls) would spend a couple of weeks engaging in the sort of activities associated with summer camp, along with a number of historically-based subject areas. There would be indoor, classroom-type instruction, indoor and semi-outdoor hands-on activities, and outdoor, hands-on activities. Each camper would have some of each, to ensure a diversity of experiences.

There would be a family session each year, where family groups would attend and take much of the instruction together, though splitting up for some of the athletics.

There would be an adult session with emphasis on the historical activities such as the various combat sports and historical equitation.

In the off season, the site would be available for SCA and other historical reenactment and re-creational events. The Great Hall would be a perfect site for feasts, the various instructional areas could be used for seminars or an SCA-style “university,” and the outdoor areas would be well-suited to SCA heavy combat, fencing, coursing (simulated hunting with dogs), and equestrian sports. The undeveloped areas could be used for SCA “wars” with large teams pitted against each other in open field, in the woods, or in scenarios representing assaults on castle gates, bridges, and the like. Siege-engine competitions and training sessions could be held also, with enough space to allow the big siege engines to achieve maximum range.

The main part of the facility would be set up as a castle, though it might be constructed largely of wood rather than stone. Around it would be a variety of activity venues: a riding stable with horses, several riding areas including jousting lists, a quintain course, and other training setups; an archery range, a javelin range, an axe-throwing range, and a siege-engine park, Inside the castle walls would be a Great Hall with its own fully equipped (modern) kitchen,
living quarters of various kinds, and examples of the workshops that might be found in a Mediæval castle: blacksmith shop, armoury, carpenter shop, leatherworking shop, and so forth. There would be some open areas for training and practice of historical martial arts, a number of classroom-type areas, and a chapel.

The facility would be close enough to the lake or river to give access to a waterfront with a swimming area and facilities for rowboats, canoes, and sailboats.

Near the structure would be an area for tent camping, with water risers available. This contributes to the secondary role of the facility as a site for SCA and similar historically-based events. The water sources would be concealed in small structures that look like wells. There would be one or more “bathhouses” with flush toilets, sinks, and showers – if more than one, placed so that everyone would have fairly easy access to them. Depending on the size of an event, porta-johns might still be needed to supplement the sanitary facilities.

Outdoor activities would include SCA-style “heavy” youth combat, historical dueling (fencing), archery, court tennis (also called “real” tennis*), historical badminton (played with wooden paddles and a heavy shuttlecock), and historical riding, including training in jousting (using targets and quintains). Historical camping skills such as building and tending fires, cooking with fire, and the like.

Indoor activities would be largely in the “arts-and-crafts” area, and many of them would straddle the modern/historical line, such as woodworking, leatherworking, pottery, and painting. Some crafts, like armouring and blacksmithing, would be mostly demonstration activities, to familiarize the campers with the work, though the older ones would be able to do some hands on activity. Calligraphy, illumination, embroidery, vocal and instrumental music, historical dancing, and various other forms of needlecraft would also be included..

Classroom instruction would include subjects such as formal courtesy, heraldry, traditions of the tournament, history and development of armour, clothing, and architecture.

The campers would wear historically-based clothing for much of the time: Tunics and long or short leggings for the boys, longer dresses for the girls. For activities for which such garb is not suitable, modern clothing would be worn, and changing areas would be available in those areas, Meals would be served family style, with the campers instructed in and expected to use historically-based table manners (though with allowances for modern sensibilities). After dinner on some nights, there would be time set aside for dancing (might even be mandatory). Meals would also be used as a means of teaching some Mediaeval-based practices, such as serving at table, pouring drinks (don’t worry, it would be iced tea or ‘bug juice’), carving, and the like. The campers would take turns at these tasks, including the more formal serving at the “high table,” in this case the table for senior staff and instructors. Campers would be required to use historical forms of address and courtesy.

The daily routine would be based on our best understanding of life in a castle. A bell would signal the beginning and end of activity sessions, meals, and chapel services. In keeping with the tradition of the time, there would be chapel services daily. Attendance would be mandatory, though active participation would not. Those whose faith traditions are not Christian should consider it part of the cultural experience. Campers would have one or two “better” sets of garb to wear to dinner and for court. Some sort of ceremonial court would be held several times during each session, to confer awards and to give the campers practice in court etiquette.

In all, the experience would be as close to cultural immersion as one could get, without losing the conveniences of running water and electricity. And that’s my Blue Sky dream.

* “Real” doesn’t imply that lawn tennis is ersatz. It’s a French term meaning royal.

©2012 ... in a Bottle. All Rights Reserved.

——————

My Blue Sky has been with me in some form for many years. It would almost be plausible, if the right financing could be found – like winning a lottery.

It begins with a large piece of land – about 100 acres. Part of it would be cleared, part would be wooded. Most of it would be pretty flat, but some of it would be somewhat hilly – rolling. There would either be a small lake on it, or it would front on a lake or a fairly large river.

Somewhere in a secluded but accessible location on this land, probably in a clear area near the woods, would be a house. It would take the form of a fortified manor, taking its inspiration from some of the “castles” in the Scottish Highlands that were intended more to protect from marauding neighbours and reivers than to resist a determined attack.

But the house is not really the focus of the dream. That would occupy an area some distance from the house, and cater to a very different sort of visitors.

The dream is a summer camp, a very specialized one, with a Mediaeval theme, where boys and girls (quartered suitably far apart to protect the boys from the girls) would spend a couple of weeks engaging in the sort of activities associated with summer camp, along with a number of historically-based subject areas. There would be indoor, classroom-type instruction, indoor and semi-outdoor hands-on activities, and outdoor, hands-on activities. Each camper would have some of each, to ensure a diversity of experiences.

There would be a family session each year, where family groups would attend and take much of the instruction together, though splitting up for some of the athletics.

There would be an adult session with emphasis on the historical activities such as the various combat sports and historical equitation.

In the off season, the site would be available for SCA and other historical reenactment and re-creational events. The Great Hall would be a perfect site for feasts, the various instructional areas could be used for seminars or an SCA-style “university,” and the outdoor areas would be well-suited to SCA heavy combat, fencing, coursing (simulated hunting with dogs), and equestrian sports. The undeveloped areas could be used for SCA “wars” with large teams pitted against each other in open field, in the woods, or in scenarios representing assaults on castle gates, bridges, and the like. Siege-engine competitions and training sessions could be held also, with enough space to allow the big siege engines to achieve maximum range.

The main part of the facility would be set up as a castle, though it might be constructed largely of wood rather than stone. Around it would be a variety of activity venues: a riding stable with horses, several riding areas including jousting lists, a quintain course, and other training setups; an archery range, a javelin range, an axe-throwing range, and a siege-engine park, Inside the castle walls would be a Great Hall with its own fully equipped (modern) kitchen,
living quarters of various kinds, and examples of the workshops that might be found in a Mediæval castle: blacksmith shop, armoury, carpenter shop, leatherworking shop, and so forth. There would be some open areas for training and practice of historical martial arts, a number of classroom-type areas, and a chapel.

The facility would be close enough to the lake or river to give access to a waterfront with a swimming area and facilities for rowboats, canoes, and sailboats.

Near the structure would be an area for tent camping, with water risers available. This contributes to the secondary role of the facility as a site for SCA and similar historically-based events. The water sources would be concealed in small structures that look like wells. There would be one or more “bathhouses” with flush toilets, sinks, and showers – if more than one, placed so that everyone would have fairly easy access to them. Depending on the size of an event, porta-johns might still be needed to supplement the sanitary facilities.

Outdoor activities would include SCA-style “heavy” youth combat, historical dueling (fencing), archery, court tennis (also called “real” tennis*), historical badminton (played with wooden paddles and a heavy shuttlecock), and historical riding, including training in jousting (using targets and quintains). Historical camping skills such as building and tending fires, cooking with fire, and the like.

Indoor activities would be largely in the “arts-and-crafts” area, and many of them would straddle the modern/historical line, such as woodworking, leatherworking, pottery, and painting. Some crafts, like armouring and blacksmithing, would be mostly demonstration activities, to familiarize the campers with the work, though the older ones would be able to do some hands on activity. Calligraphy, illumination, embroidery, vocal and instrumental music, historical dancing, and various other forms of needlecraft would also be included..

Classroom instruction would include subjects such as formal courtesy, heraldry, traditions of the tournament, history and development of armour, clothing, and architecture.

The campers would wear historically-based clothing for much of the time: Tunics and long or short leggings for the boys, longer dresses for the girls. For activities for which such garb is not suitable, modern clothing would be worn, and changing areas would be available in those areas, Meals would be served family style, with the campers instructed in and expected to use historically-based table manners (though with allowances for modern sensibilities). After dinner on some nights, there would be time set aside for dancing (might even be mandatory). Meals would also be used as a means of teaching some Mediaeval-based practices, such as serving at table, pouring drinks (don’t worry, it would be iced tea or ‘bug juice’), carving, and the like. The campers would take turns at these tasks, including the more formal serving at the “high table,” in this case the table for senior staff and instructors. Campers would be required to use historical forms of address and courtesy.

The daily routine would be based on our best understanding of life in a castle. A bell would signal the beginning and end of activity sessions, meals, and chapel services. In keeping with the tradition of the time, there would be chapel services daily. Attendance would be mandatory, though active participation would not. Those whose faith traditions are not Christian should consider it part of the cultural experience. Campers would have one or two “better” sets of garb to wear to dinner and for court. Some sort of ceremonial court would be held several times during each session, to confer awards and to give the campers practice in court etiquette.

In all, the experience would be as close to cultural immersion as one could get, without losing the conveniences of running water and electricity. And that’s my Blue Sky dream.

* “Real” doesn’t imply that lawn tennis is ersatz. It’s a French term meaning royal.

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