Where to start?!
Well, I brought the wife and kids up a week ago Sunday, and set up the tent for them. Then I had to race back home and spend the week in the empty house pretending that life had meaning without them. Like TV before color it was...a regression.
They were as happy to see me as I was to see them Friday night. I intend to plan my life better in the future.
Here are my loved ones:
Craftsmanship of the highest order was on display! I don't know whom to start with!
The Clockwork Clown befriended my Rosie (I swear I took her picture, but I don't see it here), so I'll start with her. She's a fantastic, tiny little acrobat and contortionist who does a show with her big, strong, glib showman brother. I'll work on a "show-don't-tell" post about their show. But what they did for Rosie was teach her to make glass beads. I'll show you Rosie's accomplishments later, but here's Emerald's (the Clockwork Clown's) work:
I gotta get a better camera. The stuff is beautiful! The larger beads go for $20, and I'd say they're worth it.
I talked about my friend Dan the Blacksmith, who let me make a hook on his forge at Pine City last year. (That's a September Rendezvous, the "Fall Gathering", if you care to attend. Period attire-1760 to 1806-gets you in free! Heck! They probably wouldn't reject 1600-1840, as long as it has something to do with the fur trade.)
Where was I? Oh! Dan wasn't there, but a brand-new Rendezvouser, coaxed (for good reason, let me tell you) in be the same people-Dan and Stoni-who brought us in, displayed his brilliance at tanning and finishing animal hides. Here he is smoking a hide:
Dave is a true craftsman, and a wonderful gentleman. The next pic will show the beauty of his workmanship, but I have to tell you that he took down one of his own hides from the smoker to cure a hide for a visitor before we left on Sunday.
In his day job, he's a...well, since I don't have his permission to talk about it, we'll call him a music teacher. His buckskins are as smooth and soft as silk, and he charges far too little for them. I've got to get six or seven for a shirt and pants for myself before he raises his price. Did you notice that I called that pic "silk-soft wares?"
Other traders at the Rendezvous include my daughter's friend Emma. This is her blanket:
I'll stop there, but I'd be happy to show all my pix, including the sword fight that broke out outside my tent [or tount, as Aliina insists on calling it--now I know how languages change over time], the magnificent woodworks of two of my neighbors'-one who specialized in boxes and one in noggins.
I could use a new noggin. Mine is tiny. If you show up at a neighbor's tent with a tiny noggin, you won't get much. You can't!
The bigger the noggin the better, they say. Anyway, the guy I failed to buy from has some beautiful, big ones to choose from.
All right! I can't stand it either!
I, stupidly, didn't get his card (although, maybe the fact that he was an extreme smart-ass had something to do with that)).
Just remember: take care of your noggin, and she'll take care of you.
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