So, as you know, we’re performing in Maryland this weekend. Yes Mom, I made it here safely.

The only bad thing I have to say about Maryland is that you have to drive through Pennsylvania to get here. Specifically through the mountains. I like mountains. The drive through the mountains is quite pretty when you’re a passenger. It’s a hell of a drive, however, when you’re alone, and driving a little Korean car that clearly wasn’t designed for mountain climbing. The trip worked out to about 11 hours with a brief stop in DC, and another half hour lost, in Southwest DC, trying to find my way back to the beltway. Eventually a gang of very nice Egyptian guys looked at my map and actually LED me back to the highway. I’ve heard horror stories about the people in this area, and while a little intimidating at first, were so kind, and generous with their time that I was blown away.

Still, by the time I got here I was exhausted. Like arms shaking, and not even sure I would be able to walk up the stairs to the bedroom my host has so graciously offered. All night long, every time I closed my eyes, all I could see was road.

Today, however, was worth the trip. After three visits here, I’ve finally gotten a chance to see the area surrounding the Renaissance Festival here, as opposed to just the road in between the house and the faire.

Annapolis has to be one of the loveliest cities ANYWHERE. Much of it was built in the late 1600’s and many of the original buildings are still standing. There are narrow cobblestoned streets, and, in spite of being the state capitol, it really doesn’t feel like a major urban center. You could point your camera in any direction, and the resulting shot would be postcard beautiful. Today the sun is out and the breeze is off the bay, so it was a perfect afternoon for a little exploring. Annapolis is officially “dog friendly” and there are water dishes and little doggy hitches all through the downtown. The other thing I’ve noticed is that the people here are as much a part of the local flavour as the buildings themselves, right down to the one eyed waitress at Chick and Ruth’s “delly”. This is a shabby orange plastic restaurant jammed into one of the narrow downtown storefronts. The place is not much to look at, but it’s a local favourite with literally every food you can imagine on the menu somewhere. For the record, they make a “super colossal Rueben that’s bigger than my head. No kidding. The high point of the day was the afternoon harbour cruise. It was a perfect day for sailing, and there’s a very interesting history to the area, and the cruise on the bay offers a unique vantage point of the city and the Naval Academey, as well as the surrounding harbour. I’ll post pictures when I get home. If you’re a history buff, this town was meant for you. Bring walking shoes though, as parking is scarce, and the driving can be hairy. Plan to spend the afternoon if you can, and come hungry. From fine dining to dingy little dives serving fresh crab cake sandwiches, to fudge shops and a little stand that sells hot, fresh made doughnuts that you can dip in just about any substance you can imagine, you could spend a month just eating your way around the waterfront without repeating. I’ve already sampled crab dip TWICE and it’s been two very different versions of the same dish. Must remember to track down a can of the Old Bay spice rub to bring home. It’s too bad the sulfasalazine I’m on now makes me so nauseous that I can’t eat much. I suppose, as weight loss programs go, it’s a good one, but it seems like such a waste… Sulfasalazine is like having a terrible hangover all the time, without the fun of drinking first.  The afternoon wrapped, after browsing the downtown shops for a souvenir for Hurricane Owen, with frozen dutch ice (think fresh squeezed lemonade slushy) and a trip to the site to pick up camping passes for the rest of the group arriving tomorrow.

It’s sunny and warm and the company is great. I’m staying with a dear friend that I’ve missed terribly since our faire closed, and his wonderfully outgoing and incredibly knowledgable wife. He works for the company that runs the themed harbour cruises, and she provides costumed, interactive historical performances, so I’m feeling incredibly spoiled having my own personal tour guides! 

I’m having a wonderful time, and we still have another day before the actual Festival, which will be something else entirely.  I’ve wanted to perform here since I first saw it in 1996, so I’m very excited, and a little nervous, as we are booked onto the same stages with some of our Rennfest HEROES.  It’s an honour to be here and I’m psyched.

Now a little much needed down time, as the drive and the activity thus far have reminded me just how much stamina I’ve lost being sick the last couple of years. A little frustrating, because there’s so much to see.

Overall, Having a wonderful time, wish you were here,

G O’Malley 

Ok, so summer has kind of gotten away from me this year.

It hasn’t been too bad a summer, all things considered. I’m still getting sick a lot, more on that later.

We took Hurricane Owen Camping with my parents at Rock Point Provincial Park for a week in August. While the surf was too rough for him to swim in pretty much the whole week, he DID get to drive grandma’s scooter, so it was all good. Good enough, even to make up for a week that was largely hot and rainy, except when it was cold and rainy. There was ONE perfect day, though, right in the middle. Owen still had a terrific time, and it really matters to me that he has some really great memories of special time spent with his grandparents.

Otherwise, it has mostly been a summer of trying to balance work and illness. About a month ago now, my specialist and I decided that I was *this* close to being in remission, and, as Sweet Hubby and I have been talking about wanting another baby before I’m 40, and I would need to be off all meds 6-8 months before we can even consider such things, that we would try going med free for a while, and see what happened.

Then he went on vacation.

I got two good weeks.

Now back on prednisone as of this morning to try to get bleeding and joints under control before I leave for the US on Wednesday.

We have our biggest show of the year next weekend at the Maryland Renaissance Festival- http://www.rennfest.com – and I’m the sickest I’ve been this year. Stairs are causing problems, which has me slightly dreading the hilly terrain at the faire, and back pain is making me a little nervous about making the 8-10 hour drive alone.

Nonetheless, I wouldn’t miss this show for the world. As my bandmate said, visiting Maryland isn’t QUITE like going home for us. It’s the same company that we worked for here in Ontario for nine years, but on a MUCH larger scale. It’s more like visiting your older, much cooler sister. There are dear friends that I can’t wait to see, and the idea that my health is going to slow me down even SLIGHTLY is pissing me off greatly.

I still have one more ten hour workday to get through tomorrow, then should be on the road by 8am on Wed. I’m going to miss Sweet Hubby and Hurricane Owen, but schedules this year are a tad hectic.

We perform Saturday and Sunday, I drive the 8-10 hours back on Monday, then am back at my desk for a 10 hour workday on Tuesday. The following Saturday we’re performing in Waterloo at Royal Medieval Faire in Waterloo Park West, then the weekend after that, Sweet Hubby is off to Chatham without me to perform at their “Heritage Days” festival.

Our next free weekend is the fourth weekend in October, so if you’ve been wondering why I never post anything here anymore, that’s why. I will post a Maryland Redux when we get home.

Wish us luck!

Anyone want to guess what it costs to replace a split PVC Boot and suspension rod/kit in a 1995 Ford Windstar?

Time’s up.

$889.89

Dammit. Add the extra four hours I had to take off work to rescue a stranded Sweet Hubby then collect Hurricane Owen, as we are now down to one car for the weekend. It stings a bit.

I shouldn’t bitch. We have something very few people have.

We have a fairy godmother with impeccable timing, and deep pockets. T’was her bought us the van in the first place when the last car died while I was on sick leave and had been largely sans income for three months.

Because of her, things like this suck huge, but aren’t devastating.

Oddly the broke van has me more occupied with counting my blessings than cursing my luck.

That may change when I get back to work on Monday and get fired for having to leave early after just having missed an entire week (with no pay) again, due to an auto-immune flare that resulted in a painful case of pleuresy, and rather frightening heart palpitations. (fluid in the lining of one’s heart can do that, apparently)

For now though, I’m a bit bummed that that’s $889.89 that we won’t be getting ahead, (At this rate, we’ll never own a house, or be able to afford a second child) however, I’m actually more grateful that the rent will still clear, the freezer’s full, and the house, though rented, is cozy and happy.

If you haven’t heard from us in a while, it’s just that we’ve been busy. We’re still ok. If you’re reading this, you’re likely one of the blessings we’ve counted in the last hour or so.

Thanks.

I’d almost forgotten how nice it is to simply spend time with adults I like, share a bottle of wine, some fine grillables, and be in no particular hurry to do anything.

Thanks guys (you know who you are!)

We should do it again soon!

With the aid of prednisone and pain killers, as well as another course of antibiotics, I’m on the mend again, and should be back in the saddle at work by Monday. I’m still sore, and there’s still fallout. There’s an MRI to be scheduled and cortisone shots to be scheduled to go into my hip joints and in between vertabrae again. The X-Rays show osteoarthritis affecting hips, lumbar and cervical spine, as well as knees. The MRI is to determine soft tissue inflamation and other effects of auto immune weirdness on the bits of me that don’t show up on an x-ray. We’ve yet to determine exactly why I still feel as though I have a large pitchfork lodged between my shoulder blades, extending through to my chest.

(I did have hubby check the obvious possible cause)

I’m ok with upping the pain meds and heading back to work. I actually DO like my job. I just hope they’re ready.

Prednisone does some great things in terms of making pain bearable, and restoring movement. It also makes it easier to write, strangely enough. Though it makes sleeping soundly pretty near impossible.

It also makes me a complete spaz.

Seriously. When on prednisone I’m easily distracted, prone to brutal hot flashes (and unsightly, nerdtastic cold sweats) and a complete klutz, of the sort that drops her keys down the little space between the elevator and the floor I’m trying to exit to, gets her hair stuck in the door while trying to retrieve them, spills her purse all over the elevator trying to free her hair…well, you get the idea. My hands shake, my arms are week and I’m just…addled. Hopefully, as this is a short course, I will be feeling more like myself again sooner, rather than later, but if you have the misfortune of sitting near me, be warned.

It’s not my fault. It’s the drugs I’m on.

Yes, ok, I know I’m a little slow posting this.

It’s taken me two days to recover.

The Chatham faire went well, all things considered. For a baby faire, they are mature beyond their years, and the spirit of the volunteers, indeed, of everyone involved is to be applauded.

It was a rough weekend. Four days of 30+ degree heat, combined with three days of rain made for a challenging show. This early in it’s lifespan, a weekend like this would be a major hurdle for any faire. Still, the shows were well received, and the audiences,though small, were enthusiastic. The band faced some challenges as well. Laura was sick, and by Friday night, I had the beginnings of what has turned out to be the cold from hell as well. Having to shout over the torrential downpour on Saturday didn’t help any, but that’s what you do when it rains. You get wet, and the show goes on. The audience that stayed was not to be abandoned just because of a little rain.

The feast on Saturday night was a sell out, and the Tartan Terrors rocked as they always do. For Nero’s Fiddle, a chance to indulge our collective crush on Steve Sinnicks, so it was a great evening! The crowd was damp, but really enthusiastic, and apart from putting on a great show, the Terrors were gracious, and genuinely supportive of us as a younger stage act. Chelle and Duncan, the organizers, are to be commended for their efforts, and for their choice in delegates when it came to sharing the work among competent hands. In twelve years of performing now, I’ve never seen such a dedicated group of volunteers. We’re looking forward to helping them celebrate their wedding at next year’s faire!

There were some minor hiccups, also to be expected in a young faire. Jousts that routinely ran 30 or more minutes over time meant that any entertainment scheduled within 30 minutes of the PLANNED end of a joust lost their audience, as they were still at the jousting list, and any entertainment planned anywhere NEAR the joust got shouted down, simply because the joust had the benefit of a sound system, and the stage acts did not. Still, the faire is a work in progress, and these issues are addressed as they arise. Those of us who came from the Ontario Renaissance Festival have become slightly spoiled when it comes to organization, because even in year one, we had the benefit of a management team with 20 years experience. For a young faire, Gregor’s Crossing performs remarkably well. I would highly recommend it to anyone looking for a good faire fix without crossing the border.

Our CD sales were ok, considering that the weather conditions and a gate price that may be a touch high for a small faire likely kept much of the potential audience at home. We had to consider our material selection very carefully for the first two days, as they were school days, and every school age child from grade 4-8 in the county seems to have been there. Most of our upbeat songs are a little “mature” for young audiences, and the slow pretty songs, while musically sound, don’t hold their attention for long.

Wench croquet got rained out, which is a shame. The one day that we were able to play “peasant croquet” was very popular, and we will definitely come prepared to play again next year.

This was also my first performance since getting sick the year Owen was born that I have done without benefit of steroids or narcotics. No, for those of you just joining us, I’m not a junkie. I have a chronic auto-immune condition that causes my immune system to attack any system in my body at random. Some days I can’t hear, some days I can’t walk, some days I’m fine. It was a lot harder than I’d anticipated. I used to be able to do three to four months at a pop of working 7 days a week during our summer season, and I’m still learning my new limitations. It’s disappointing and frustrating to discover how much endurance I’ve lost in such a short time.

The hotel was less comfortable that I would have liked, with air conditioning that didn’t work well for the first two days, then stopped working altogether after we asked management to “fix” it. Management was very surly about finally changing our room when at 11pm on Saturday we couldn’t handle the heat any longer. We were in a room that had clearly been a smoking room, and even Hurricane Owen came home smelling like a two pack a day smoker. Low water pressure and the heat in our room made getting cleaned up and dressed a little difficult, as anyone who has ever tried to shampoo long, thick hair under a trickle of water or tried to lace themselves into an Elizabethan corset whilst sweating like a pig can attest. Still, it beat camping, and had the convenience of being directly across the road from the site, so that those with small children in their care could go back and forth without difficulty. In spite of the smell, Hurricane Owen has been asking to go back to the hotel since we got home, so I guess he didn’t mind.

I’m off today, and Hurricane Owen is with me, also having been sick since we got home, so I’m trying to do a mountain of laundry and clean my house with a sick child in tow, while still sick myself. Poor Sweet Hubby goes straight from one job to the next today, so he’s had no time to even catch his breath.

Overall, a good time was had, and the faire was a success under the conditions. With better weather, and another year under their belts, next year will be even better! I love this faire for the community they’ve managed to create in a short time, and for their very kind treatment of us as performers. Is it perfect? No. Is it a pleasure? Yes. It’s also an honour to be in more or less on the ground floor of a faire with such staggering potential. If you didn’t make it this year, come next year! It’s worth the trip!

submitted by cat o nine lols

Because this made my day!  Thanks

!

Cause nothin’ says “Mother’s Day” like an ear full of barf.

Many moms will immediately recognize how this happens.

You take a sick child into your arms to comfort them.  Finally the sobbing stops and he rests his head on your shoulder.

And pukes in your ear.

With the possible exception of the doin-the-splits-on-a-case-of-dynamite thrill of actual childbirth, nothin’ makes you feel more like a Mom than an earful of puke.