J is for Jousting

Okay, I admit it.  I’m a Game of Thrones fan.  I started watching the show when it first came out and then got distracted from it for some reason and lost track.  With season three airing a few weeks ago, I decided to catch up and went back to the beginning.

A spectacular spectacle, this hastlitude!

This has to be one of the most violent shows I’ve ever watched.  The brutality of the medieval ages is depicted rather graphically.  I won’t even mention the sex.  This show is not for everyone and I caution anyone who hasn’t seen it that it definitely contains adult content.  But all that aside, the fantasy realm in which the show takes place is amazing.  I wish I could come up with a better adjective for it; amazing barely cuts it.  A Game of Thrones is mind-bogglingly fantastic.  Sometimes in a stomach-turning, face-grimacing, hide-your-eyes-behind-your-hands kind of way. 

Things don't always end well for the knights -
or their horses!

 The jousting scenes in season one are a good example.  Holy, moly!  I did some serious cringing in those episodes.   Between the lance through the neck and the poor sportsmanship of “the Mountain” when he cut his horses head off after losing a bout, I was beginning to think that I should not watch it right before bed time.  Or at least buffer it with an episode of Community.  Pretty gross stuff happening there!

The sport of jousting has always had a deep effect on me.  I hold my breath right from the moment the horses start their charges down the rail to the moment of impact.  Mostly I’m worried about the horses.  I figure if grown men are stupid enough to point lances at each other with the intention of skewering their opponents, they probably deserve what they get.  But the horses are unwitting and probably unwilling participants in this bizarre and dangerous game.   While I have to concede that without them the spectacle would lose 99% of the drama, it would gain about 110% in the amusing entertainment department.

Jousting is a hastilude (from the Latin hastiludium, meaning literally “lance game”).  The word joust is from the French joster, meaning “to approach; to meet.”  And the synonym, “tilt” dates to about 1510. It enjoyed a 500-year popularity, particularly in England and Germany, but finally died out in favour of other equestrian sports.

 

You can create your own
Game of Thrones sigil at
http://www.jointherealm.com/sigil.html

A limited revival of the sport began in the 1970s.  Thankfully, this is mostly confined to theatrical re-enactments in such groups as the Society for Creative Anachronism and the International Jousting Association.  But accidents still happen and it remains a dangerous, if not fantastically thrilling thing to do.  Or watch, as I would prefer, not being a huge thrill seeker and having a clear understanding with horses that I won’t ride them and they won’t throw me off them.  Though I do think it would be very cool to have my own suit of armour…

I is for Icosahedron

I first learned about the Icosahedron when I started studying sacred geometry.  I love patterns and I create mandalas because they appeal to my love of geometric patterns.  

The icosahedron is one of the five platonic solids, which are regular, convex polyhedrons.

The icosahedron is made up of twenty equilateral triangles and looks like this:

In sacred geometry, it is associated with the element of water and enhances the fifth chakra, the seat of inter-social conscience.  It represents transformation and emotional energy.

My favourite icosahedron is the one that came with my D & D dice set.  It has nearly killed my character, and has saved her bacon more than once.  The fate of Anayah is intrinsically enveloped in that little beauty in the center of the photograph.  Of course, the whims of the Dungeon Master play a connecting role here, too.  If I've learned anything playing D&D, its very simply:  Don't annoy the DM!  

H is for How the Heck Did I Forget to Write That Down?

So, I’ve been getting input from my Facebook friends on potential topics for the A to Z Blog Challenge.  A through F garnered some pretty good contributions and fuelled the first six days. So far, so good. 

Then I started getting inspired all by myself with topics for G and H.  G went very well.  I finished and posted it and carried on with my day thinking that H would be a breeze as well…

And then I sat down at my computer early this morning to write my 8^th entry.  I stared blankly at the screen for about five minutes quite unable to recall the great topic I had come up with all by myself for H. 

Not to worry, I told myself.  It will come back to me.

The minutes passed into hours.  The hours ushered out the morning.  Still no recall – not even partial.

I have a list on my iPod for possible topics, which I have checked – several times.  H is blank and stubbornly remains so.

I forgot to write it down.

I was so sure that I would remember it because it was a really, really cool topic. 

But it’s gone.  I forgot that my memory is not to be relied up on under any circumstances.  Now I have no topic for H. 

How the heck did I forget to write it down? 

Oh, well.  I’ll humbly hope that hours from now I will happily remember and happen to have a pen nearby so that I can write it down and look up a synonym for it for use on another day for another letter.

Sigh!

G is for Gone

Two weeks ago, my adorable seven-year-old niece moved in with me temporarily.  Her parents had the fabulous opportunity to go to China and asked me to look after my niece while they were gone.  Of course, I said yes.

My brother, SIL and niece arrived with two suitcases – one for clothes and one for toys, three backpacks for various items, at least three bags of other stuff, including one full of snacks for school and daycare.  There was also the requisite snuggle blankie and stuffies; comforts of home.  This was Monday evening and without any fuss the cases and backpacks and bags were distributed, pjs were donned, teeth were brushed and my niece settled into bed.  Day one was short and easy!

So were days two through thirteen.  As house guests go, my niece was a charming, polite and wonderful companion.  She never once complained.  She didn’t care for my rice, preferring “normal” rice to the basmati that I served.  Otherwise she ate what was provided without fuss.  She entertained herself when I was busy.   She got herself up and dressed and ready for school and daycare without an problems.  And she enjoyed some special outings with her brother (swimming), her Grandma (for a visit and a walk) and her cousin (for a movie at the new theatre in town). 

The only time she disapproved of anything was the second to last night she spent with me.  We threw a bit of a surprise early birthday party of sorts for a friend on our weekly D&D night.  Though the celebrators were small in number, we made for a bit of noisy group.  A little after nine o’clock my niece entered the kitchen and scolded us thusly:

“Can you please crank it down!?  I had my head buried under the pillow and my door shut permanently and I could still hear you.”

Duly admonished, we did our best to crank it down and let her get to sleep.  

Last Saturday, my niece’s parents returned from their amazing trip to China and my niece returned to her own home.  It was so quiet in the house.  Gone were the repeating sounds of the My Little Pony theme song on Netflix, game noises from her iPod, her delightful giggles and her charming chatter.  Gone was my niece.

And in her place a little bit of sadness settled in. 

I have come to value my independence over the past two years.  Having my niece in the house with me, though, has made me somewhat nostalgic for the days when children were the center of my life.  So now I’m looking forward to having my grandchildren come for a visit in a few weeks.  The No-Jo (as they are collectively and affectionately referred to) will liven things up again.  

F is for Friendship

By far the most popular vote for the letter F among my Facebook friends was Friends.  But I’m lumping in family along with that.  I will also attempt to work in:  farming, foresight, fudge, France, fresh food, freak show, fe fi fo fum, fantabulous and my freakin’ hilarious son-in-law’s response, jambalaya. 

Now where do I begin…? 

I think I will begin with the very first friends that I can remember.  The first’s name was (and I presume still is) Bernie and he lived two doors down from us when I was a preschooler in Calgary.  That is, unfortunately, all I can remember about him.  I haven’t seen or heard from him since I was five and my family moved to Chilliwack.  There was another boy, who lived between Bernie and I, but I cannot recall his name.  My only memory of him is that he used to whisper to his mother’s bum when he wanted something.  I do remember playing with these two boys, particularly when their mothers babysat me, and I often wonder what ever became of them.  I think of them still, though, as friends, for there is no other way to think of them.  In spite of my vague memories and total loss of contact, they remain special to me somehow.

Since then I’ve had lots of friends.  People have come and gone in my life, as people are wont to do.  There have been many!  I estimate the number of people that I’ve personally met to be roughly 12,000.  These include friends, teachers, customers, clients, colleagues, co-workers, passing acquaintances, servers, service providers, family members, bosses, friends and relatives of all of the above.  Some of them are farmers.  Some of them have been to France (and want to go again).  I’ve shared fudge and fresh food with some of them.  Some of them are freakin’ hilarious and a few have been real freak shows.  Some of them have amazing foresight.  Some of them don’t know their alphabets very well – could be due to too much spicy jambalaya having affected their brains, but I’m not sure.  Many of them are simply fantabulous!

Wouldn’t it be cool to gather all the people you’ve ever met together in one big friend reunion?  Imagine all the thousands of people you’ve met together in one place…  Yeah, maybe not.  The reception line would be a killer!   And the embarrassment of all the forgotten names would just be too much.  And what if the freak shows showed up?  Oh, well.  For a second there, it was a grand idea. 

Friends are precious.   And I would like to take this opportunity to thank all of the friends who so amazingly stepped up over the past few days to vote for my daughter’s art work in the Fairies and Fantasy Art Awards Contest (if you haven’t voted for Alison Spokes yet, please do:  http://selinafenech.com/2013/2013-art-awards-round-one-voting/)  So many people shared this link and asked their friends to vote, collectively raising Alison into the top five.  Whoot!  (She so deserves to win this.)  This was testimony to the miracle of friendship, the wonder of friendship and the beauty of friendship.  Thank you all for your amazing support!

Well, it’s time to get my day started here.  Fe fi fo fum, I hear the call of the vac-u-um.

E is for Environment

Okay, so this is a fairly done-to-death topic these days.  Everyone and his dog is aware of the impact we humans have had, are having and continue to have on the environment and what that means, potentially, for us all. 

That’s right!  We’ll be sleeping with the dinosaurs before we know it.  Unless things change.  And sooner rather than later.  Yada-yada-yada.

We’ve all heard the stories.  We all know how bad things are and how they are getting worse. 

But let’s just think about this for a minute.  When I was a kid, recycling was not common place at all.  We bought stuff.  We used the stuff we bought.  And then, when it no longer served us for whatever reason, we threw it away.  We still do.

Today recycling is huge.  It’s everywhere.  Even in little old Houston.  We are more conscious of the stuff we throw away – if not the stuff we buy in the first place.  We take it to the recycling depot or we try to re-purpose it some way.  Not to be depressing in any way, but making crafts out of discarded stuff with your kids isn’t solving anything.   Eventually, that, too, is going to get thrown away somehow.  And garbage is still garbage whether it’s lying on the ground in parks and streets or piled up in a landfill.  We just don’t see the landfills – much – so, yes, the parks and streets look better.  But the garbage is still there! 

The fact is that we are going to use stuff.  We are going to harvest natural material from the earth and turn it into things we can use, use them for as long as we need/want to and then get rid of them.  One way or another.  Recycling can help to reduce the amount of natural material we harvest to make stuff, but recycling pollutes just as much as newly manufactured stuff does.  

I really don’t know what the answer is.   And I certainly do not wish to discourage anyone from recycling or re-purposing or picking up litter. 

I recently read a quote attributed to Jonas Salk:  If all the insects were to disappear from the Earth, within fifty years all life on Earth would end. If all human beings disappeared from the Earth, within fifty years all forms of life would flourish.

Well, that’s frightening!  Is it true?  I don’t know.  What I do know is that the environment is suffering.  And us right along with it. 

People criticize me for advocating for e-Books instead of print material.  As a librarian, it may seem a bit incongruous to think like that.  Then again, not many people see the number of books that my staff rip up and haul to the recycling depot on a regular basis.  Produce one e-Book and you’ve produced as many as you need.  Produce one print book and you quickly go out of business.  Granted, it’s not a perfect solution either.  There is a lot of waste attached to e-Books too.  Just look at the e-Readers that are being produced and the rapid rate at which they are becoming obsolete as new and improved versions find their way to market.  Two years ago, the library purchased four Kobo readers that are now out-of-date.  They work just fine, but everyone wants touch screens and tablet features that these ones don’t have.  We can’t afford to keep up with the technology.  So what do we do?

It’s a big, big problem. 

I guess what we can do is try our best as individuals to be as kind as possible to the environment.  Absolutely, recycle, reuse, re-purpose.  Buy second hand if you can.  Grow gardens, eat local food and avoid packaged and processed stuff as much as possible.  Walk or ride a bike is you don’t have to drive.  And be grateful.   I know that probably sounds stupid, but I think gratitude plays a big part in all of this.  When we take it for granted that things will just be there when we want them, we might just wake up one day and find ourselves cuddled up with a stegosaurus.  

Check out the Story of Stuff Project:  www.storyofstuff.org.  It's enlightening!  

D is for D'Arcy

To help me meet the A to Z Challenge I’m getting input from my friends on Facebook.  Suggestions for this post included:  donuts, dunno, doin’ it right, Derek (whom I don’t really know, but am still looking forward to seeing photos of his dream home someday), doh, crayons (which I cannot explain) and D’Arcy.  While I could probably say a lot about some of the suggestions, I was most inspired by D’Arcy, for D’Arcy is a most inspiring woman. 

I met D’Arcy in high school, grade 11 specifically, when she transferred to Sardis Secondary and we found ourselves in Journalism class together.  Our teacher’s name was Mennow Weins, but we called him Trout.  I’m relatively sure that was D’Arcy’s idea; I was far too conservative to have dared.  And while D’Arcy may beg to differ, I’m sticking to that story.

We became quite good friends, quite quickly.  She fascinated me.  While we waited for class to start, she would play her guitar, picking out Johnny Cash tunes, somehow making them cool.  I can’t listen to Ring of Fire without thinking of D’Arcy.  And smiling.

Perhaps that song was somewhat prophetic.  Today, some years after capturing my heart with her friendship, D’Arcy became a fireman… uh woman… uh person.  She’s also a paramedic (I think).  She zooms around in an ambulance and saves lives, so call her what you will, she’s definitely a hero… heroin?  Okay, let’s just say that D’Arcy rocks!

Our lives have taken us in different directions.  D’Arcy remained in Columbia Valley where she married the love of her life and with him raised four children.  She graduated from Mom to Nana (extraordinaire!) a few years ago and has three adorable grandchildren.  And she remains one of the dearest, most precious friends I have ever had the privilege to know.

            She also makes a damn fine pirate!