This meme courtesy of boggyb is in addition to my regular broadcasts and updates. There will still be a regular update either in a few hours, or more likely tomorrow morning proper:

So, who's my best commenter?

( Who comments the most on this journal? )

Tags: meme

Cottagecon is over. I am sad.
I had a great time at Cottagecon; I have even experienced OldSkool D&D....

Last night I played Dragon Warriors. I decided I'm glad I never experienced this kind of tabletop. I think it might have put me off completely.
However it was a good laugh, Hetty the Hedgewitch survived, even though the etmptation to fling a rock at the Dragon was almost overwhelming. We did forget, however, to get all the loot off the guy carrying it before he went to pinch some of the Dragon's loot.... oops.

Today we brought it right back up to the 21st Century and played some D&D enclounters at level 10. It was epic. Most of the characters were random one offs, I however decided to boost up my rogue (well I would have had I had all her stats on me. but we managed a reasonable replica) we had a good team and managed to succeed both encounters we managed to play.

Tomorrow is back to work, and sorting out the office(s).

Tags: cottagecon, nablopomo

Beadwork magazine (Oct/Nov issue) has a Steampunk Beading article just thought I would share it. I am going tomorrow to pick one up

( Under The Cut )

Before the Summer

When our men are marching lightly up and down,
When the pipes are playing through the little town,
I see a thin line swaying through wind and mud and rain
And the broken regiments come back to rest again.

Now the pipes are playing, now the drums are beat,
Now the strong battalions are marching up the street.
But the pipes will not be playing and the bayonets will not shine.
When the regiments I dream of come stumbling down the line.

Between the battered trenches their silent dead will lie
Quiet with grave eyes staring at the summer sky.
There is a mist upon them so that I cannot see
The faces of my friends that walk the little town with me.

Lest we see a worse thing than it is to die.
Live ourselves and see our friends cold beneath the sky,
God grant we too be lying there in wind and mud and rain
Before the broken regiments come stumbling back again.

Ewart Alan Mackintosh, 1893-1917

Tags: remembrance day

Last night was the Curious Collectors of Baker Street's annual Gasfitter's Ball, and the theme this year was steampunk! I've been going to this event for years and years, and I have to say that for this go-round people really pulled out the stops! As usual, the hubby and I had a marvelous time, although next time I wear this get-up I'm going to throw on the corset in the parking lot after I get there, because being stuck in traffic whilst wearing a get-up such as this begins to get a little painful (yesterday was the Breeder's Cup at Santa Anita Racetrack, and it seriously borked the 210 Freeway).



Of course, the first order of business was to procure a bottle of champagne...

( Come inside -- the show's about to start! )

Current Mood: tired

Loads of stuff – some new and some with prices reduced. Lip Service, PVC, skulls etc. Everything really!

Some stuff I’ll take offers on where marked and where there are prices these include PayPal fees and postage to the UK. I’ll send abroad but that will be a wee bit more!

( Read more... )

MCMXIV

Those long uneven lines
Standing as patiently
As if they were stretched outside
The Oval or Villa Park,
The crowns of hats, the sun
On moustached archaic faces
Grinning as if it were all
An August Bank Holiday lark;

And the shut shops, the bleached
Established names on the sunblinds,
The farthings and sovereigns,
And dark-clothed children at play
Called after kings and queens,
The tin advertisements
For cocoa and twist, and the pubs
Wide open all day--

And the countryside not caring:
The place names all hazed over
With flowering grasses, and fields
Shadowing Domesday lines
Under wheat's restless silence;
The differently-dressed servants
With tiny rooms in huge houses,
The dust behind limousines;

Never such innocence,
Never before or since,
As changed itself to past
Without a word--the men
Leaving the gardens tidy,
The thousands of marriages,
Lasting a little while longer:
Never such innocence again.

Philip Larkin (1922-1985)

Tags: poetry
Current Mood: thoughtful

Day 8

Last night I went with the Durham gang to see fireworks :D Sadly, I could not see the fireworks, but they sounded awesome ^^

We then went to Mary's bar to have a few drinks. It was a good night. I knew it was going to be a good night from the moment I got there because I was hyper and bouncy even before I had a drink.

A fantastic time was had, many drinks (oh god student cocktails...) including a supercharged shandy - Smirnoff Ice, an extra shot of vodka, topped up to a pint with Fosters lager! sounds gross, doesn't taste much better, I can assure you.

Later we tromped from Mary's to the club we always end up in because everywhere else shuts at midnight. Sadly, most people were rubbish and went home at this point :D We stayed and had a drink, but by that time I was losing feeling in my face and we decided to head home.

This morning was officially cancelled due to bad head, and I've not been to weapons practise because my feet are still very sore and covered in blisters from last Thursday/aggravated by adventure yesterday.

Jem and Andy are coming round in a bit and we're going to actually play Rogue Trader! Woooo!!!

Really looking forward to it :D I'll let you know how it goes.

Startling revelation for the day:
In high heels, even scrubbing the bath is glamorous.