In Which I Ride the Whirlwind of Wonderous Weekend Revelry

[A note of warning: this entry will be considerably longer than is usual.  I have generally tried to keep the length of my missives to under 600 words, but as Mr Magellan once pointed out to me, in this case I will have by then barely begun to clear my throat.]

In a singular occurrance of synchronicity, Saturday last was saturated with social events.  I direct the curious to the calendars of Caledon and the Alexandrian Free Library for the 2nd of May, as well as Lady Eva Bellambi’s announcement for the 3rd Annual Beltane celebration.  These, of course, are only the events of which I was personally aware.  I believe there were several others as well.  In any case, feeling uncharacteristically frisky I endeavored to make a full day of it and attend as many of the festivities as time and endurance would allow.

‘Spirit of the Forest’

The day began with the the Marzipan Sweeties Revue in Magellan Kinvara.  This revue was entitled ‘Spirit of the Forest’ and featured the talents of the lovely Misses Eve Compton, Finnella Flanagan, Madeline Tiratzo, and Petronella Piers arrayed in delightful costumes provided by Miss Tabitha Ninetails and accompanied by musical arrangements selected by the Nightingale herself Miss Gabrielle Riel.  I attended in offical capacity as a member of the Garda.  Rather than make a poor attempt at a full review I will instead direct those interested to the words of Mr. Mako Magellan(more…)

In which I undergo a transformative change and venture to show my new face in public

“While strolling through the park one day
In the merry merry month of May
I was taken by surprise
By a pair of roguish eyes
In a moment my poor heart was stole away.”

As I sat with pen in hand, or keyboard at fingers, to set down this entry to what is apparently a moderately well received journal (more on that later) I was listening to the soothing emanations of Radio Riel.  They list the theme of the day as Contemporary Instrumental, although a May Day Eve event begins shortly.  For some reason, possibly because of the plethora of May Day/Beltane/Walpurgisnacht celebrations in the offing for this weekend, the song quoted above came into my head.  A quick enquiry with the services of Mr. Google & Co.  brought to light some interesting, and hithertofore unknown to me, pearls of knowledge regarding the tune commonly known as “Strolling Through the Park“.  If you will permit me, before plunging into the primary focus of this missive I would like to share a few of them with you.

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Published in: on 30 April, 2009 at 3:10 PM  Comments (8)  
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In which I chat with old friends in front of the fire and have tea with some new ones

Having had my fill of wrangling with walls I sought out a more sociable diversion.  Pulling up the map of Caledon I noted that there were four souls in Kintyre.  I wanted to get a more complete tour of that duchy; so, I translocated there to see who was about.  One thing I noticed straight away, once the scene had resolved, was that the church I had seen on the Eatern island was no longer there.  It had been replaced with an open air pavilion.  While that is pleasant enough, I suppose, I will miss the church building, especially the grave yard.
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Published in: on 14 March, 2009 at 10:17 AM  Leave a Comment  
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In which I meet the Lord of Cymru

Later on the evening after my disturbing encounter in Greystoke I resumed my walking tour and followed the cobblestone path South  and West to Cymru.  For those unfamiliar, Cymru lies at the end of a peninsula reaching out from the southern end of the so-called “Sculptie Isle”.  It’s primary geographic feature is a  rocky promontory at the far Western end.  This promontory essentially forms the Western wall of a large fortified keep.  The massive walls of this keep encircle a large level plateau at the base of the aforementioned promontory.

The first thing one sees upon entering Cymru from the East is a rather idyllic copse of trees with slanted rays of sunlight streaming through them.  At the base of the stairway leading up to the castle one finds a small green pool that turns out to be rather deep.  I can attest to this as I actually fell in said pool.  At this point I also discovered that I could not fly my way out.  I had to use the somewhat inelegant solution of Astral Translocation to extricate myself.

Recovering from this momentary loss of dignity I proceeded to ascend the stairway leading up to the gate into the keep iteslf.  I entered with some trepidation, perhaps spurred by my recent entrapment.  The more likely reason was that I found myself for the first time since my manifestation actually faced with the possibility of bodily harm.  In more mundane terms, Cymru is a “damage enabled” region. (more…)

Published in: on 27 February, 2009 at 2:50 PM  Leave a Comment  
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