SC - Re: Tibor's Mead, Aoife's Story

[L Herr-Gelatt and J R Gelatt]

>> Ya'all flinched... I said brewing, and NO ONE dared to even TALK about that
>> recipe.  I'm bummed.
>
>You could always try saying brewing on the brewing mailing list.
>

Sorry Tibor---It's P*(ennsic) minus  7 days. Brewing a new batch is right
out! I'll save it for when I get home.

But it gives me the opportunity to tell a funny story (See, I AM talking
about brewing!):

Two Pennsics ago, I entered the brewing competition and was the ONLY female
who showed up to taste/judge (apparantly females are not supposed to have
opinions about beer. But that's another story).

So, here I am, probably twenty two  beer tastes into a twenty-four beer
competition. By now I reek of (you guessed it) BEER. It is leaking through
my pores and perfuming the air around me, despite the fact that we had tiny
mouthfuls of each, which we spit into a bucket instead of swallowing. I was
very smelly from "Eau de Hops".  

Along comes a man who identifies himself as the deputy autocrat of Pennsic.
"Madam, are these your children" he asks me? Sure enough he has one
screaming child by the upper arm and another one looking terrified standing
nearby. I opened my mouth and guess what came out? "Eau de Hops". The man
visibly shrank. Apparantly, my children had decided to play on a golf cart
next to Autocrat's Point, the owner of which had forgotten to put on the
parking brake and had left in the keys. My poor darlins' were aprehended
driving an out-of control golf cart backwards down the hill from autocrats
point. The young one was driving. A handy squire leapt in front of it and
brought it to a halt by brute strength.

Now, smelling of beer as I did, it seemed hardly worth explaining the point
that my child minder had wandered off. It was my fault because I was the
responsible party. I  willingly admit that. I suffered a 10 minute lecture
about good parenting. And then I slunk home, carrying the children who had
been frightened out of their wits. 

Now, friends like to joke that it is now a law that no-one with my genetic
code is legally allowed to even glance at a golf cart in New Castle. It's
true, we punished the girls in part by telling them the were never allowed
even look at them, either at Pennsic or anywhere else. To this day, they
avert their eyes when passing a golf course. They plug their ears when I
tell this story and say "blah blah blah" over and over until I'm finished.
We had a lot of fun last year when they got their Silver Buccles
(Aethelmearc Children's Award). I had primed Prince Yngvar and Princess
Caryl in advance. So you should have seen the look on their faces when they
were called into court and Yngvar said "So I understand you two have a
problem with golf carts". Baaaaad Mommy!

Those poor kids don't stand a chance!

That event, folks, is the one and only time I have ever burnt something in
an SCA kitchen. In my hurry to see the kids get their awards and comuppance,
I thought I turned the Plov (fruity rice relish, Russian style---Recipe from
Elena Molokhovet) off, when in fact I turned it up full blast. But it was
worth it. Nobody missed the Plov. And I now can say "Yes, I am the mother of
THOSE children."

See you at Pennsic. I'm taking a break from you folks for a while, cause I
have NOTHING to wear. It's time to work on the OTHER hobby now. Don't e-mail
me, 'cause I won't be here!

Visit me at Clan Chattan (Howard's Fenway, below Horde Hill) if anyone has a
mind to look me up. I'm the mother of all those screaming little girls ;^D . 


Cheerio


Aoife     

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