[Artemisia] Desserts, blue jeans, atheletic socks and stories

[Dr. C. M. Helm-Clark Ph.D.]

This has nothing at all to do with desserts but
everything to do with taking things that are
period to a fault.

It's the year AS 23, the place is the Barony of
Rowan and the event is Rowany Festival, the largest
event in Lochac.  I'm there as one of a party of
several from my former kingdom, including two of
the founders of the kingdom of Caid, a former
Steward of the SCA, the current Steward of the SCA,
three senior heralds, two great officers of state
and multiple peers (come to think of it, I was the
only non-peer in the bunch, though I was there on
my kingdom's nickel since I was a great officer
of state at the time - travel funds, gotta love
'em when you can't afford the whole trip to
Australia...)

So here we are at Rowany, which is on the edge of
the outback in the foot hills of the New England
Mountains in New South Wales - and opening court
is breaking up. An unnamed Lochac peer, who shall 
remain nameless but whose initials are "One of the 
two founders of Lochac" walks up to Count^3 Viscount 
Sir Master Master William the Lucky ("skip the title 
crap and just call me Lucky"), former Steward of the
SCA and just-retired Marshal of the Society (joined 
in year 3, walks on water, senior herald, Chancellor
of the College of Scribes, seven times a great 
officer of state, etc. etc. etc.) who was wearing 
his usual (shame!, shame!, and again, shame!) blue 
jeans and old ratty T-Tunic from the year -10. So
this unnamed peer chastises Lucky in public, loudly,
for wearing blue jeans at an event - especially since
blue denim is not exactly period, particularly as
American-style riveted-pocket Levis.

Well, extremely tall (6'6") crew-cut, blond and
blue-eyed Lucky looks down his long nose from a
great height and in tones that would freeze Lava
Hot Springs, informs "Her EXcellency" (yes, you
could hear the capital EX in EXcelleny), that he
would retire to his pavilion forthwith and amend
this situation (I was there - that's what he really
said...damn, I miss that man...)

So Lucky, who was the one peer in my former kingdom
who always left me with the fond feeling that there
was at least one peer who would always be worse-
dressed than me (he always wore jeans unless he was
at a feast or 12th Night or at his own coronation), 
disappeared into his tent - and when he came out, he 
was wearing his shortest rattiest T-tunic, boxers, 
mid-calf boots, and knee-high white-and-blue-striped 
athletic socks.  And that's what he wore for the rest
of Rowany Festival except when he was in armour.

Her EXcelleny, our unnamed Lochac peer, turned quite
red in the face when she spotted Lucky in his new
mode of attire. She was just about to say something
when His Majesty Geoffrey inserted himself across her
path and said to Lucky, "Your Grace, I see you are no
longer wearing those jeans.  It's so nice to see you
out of those mundane pants for a change.  This new
style greatly becomes you."

"Why thank you, your Majesty," replied Lucky with
that classic granite straight-man face of his.

Just about everyone in the kingdom hated those damn
blue jeans of Lucky's but denim trumps discourtesy 
any day.

ttfn
Therasia