Um...Tuneful Tuesday?

 Y'all, this autumn has been insane. I've got to be better about planning my events and, in general, my time. In October I had somewhere I had to be to sell books all but one weekend. Then November started and I've since done two weekends at the Georgia Renaissance Festival and have a book event this weekend and a reunion at the summer camp I attended as a camper/worked as a counselor next Saturday. Then I'm back to the renn fest for the 29th of November and 6th of December. What in the world?

I mean, I know what happened. I was out of commission for so long thanks to cancer treatment that I took every opportunity offered to be OUT and ABOUT. Well, the end result is that I may be OUT as in PASSED OUT come 7th December. Today's music Monday became Tuneful Tuesday because I've been running ragged...round and round like I used to do on a roller rink when I was a kid. 

This song makes me want to strap on some skates and hit the rink...hopefully with wheels down and not on my face, but it's been a few years now. Enjoy! The captions work, I tested them...you just have to turn them on. WOO!

A special Music Monday

Bryn at CRF, photo courtesy of
Lisa Margolis.

Our Bryndled Beastie, CGC    

"Bryn"

2013-06-16 - 2025-02-21

She started working at the Carolina Renaissance Festival the Sunday after Anne and I picked her up. "How old is she?" patrons would ask. I would say 5 months. "Oh, how long have you had her?" I would look at my arm like I was wearing a watch and say, "About 36 hours."

She was the queen of the Georgia Renaissance Festival, stealing sandwiches from under patron's noses and barking like crazy during the joust.

She even put up with me when we dressed up as Vikings at the Enchanted Chalice Faire.

She loved her brother from another mother, Bo, as much as her real brother Barley. But she was also madly in love with Barley's roommate, Charley, according to her Aunt Tamara.

She fell in love with Kathleen E. Lazenby  and  Robin Willoughby's Duke, so she laid on top of him to keep an eye on him. He wasn't a fan...

She got to pretend to be a Beezer at Auntie Shannon and Uncle Justin's house, but that didn't last long. They had far more energy.

Her first best friend was Anne and Damian's Boston, Millie. I bet when she got to the Bridge, Millie grabbed onto Bryn's underside (true story) and they went for a run.

She was a fairy dog ​​who far outlived her usual lifespan, beating pneumonia when she was 9. And I hope she found our Daisy Mei Mei, who she loved more than anyone, Ciaragh, the epitome of enemies becoming best friends, my dad who probably laughed that deep laugh and clapped his hands, and Miss Heather, who helped me discover a wider world of Bryn's family, including her big sister, the Other Kiera as we called her here and her other Auntie Stacie.

Brynka Boo, being your Mama has been the honor of my life, as they say. Don't rush, but don't wait too long before sending us another breeze block noggin to love, eh?

Go maire tú chomh fada agus is mian leat, agus gan aon ní a bheith uait mar a mhaireann tú. Is breá liom tú, mo chailín lúide.  Go raibh maith agat as a bheith linn. 

The Rattlin Bog, as performed by the Craic - Bryn and I listened to this on the way to Faire and she'd wag her tail IN TIME to the music, no matter how fast it got. My rattlin (splendid) Irish Fae Girl...
Rattling Bog - The Craic
Ho, ro, the rattlin' bog,The bog down in the valley-o.Real Bog, the rattlin' bog,The bog down in the valley-o.Well in the bog there was a hole,A rare hole and a rattlin' hole,And the hole in the bog,And the bog down in the valley-o.Ho, ro, the rattlin' bog,The bog down in the valley-o.Real Bog, the rattlin' bog,The bog down in the valley-o.Well in that hole there was a tree,A rare tree and a rattlin' tree,And the tree in the hole,And the hole in the bog,And the bog down in the valley-o.Ho, ro, the rattlin' bog,The bog down in the valley-o.Real Bog, the rattlin' bog,The bog down in the valley-o.on that tree there was a branch,A rare branch and a rattlin' branch,And the branch on the tree,And the tree in the hole,And the hole in the bog,And the bog down in the valley-o.Ho, ro, the rattlin' bog,The bog down in the valley-o.Ho, ro, the rattlin' bog,The bog down in the valley-o.on that branch there was a limb,A rare limb and a rattlin' limb,And the limb on the branch,And the branch on the tree,And the tree in the hole,And the hole in the bog,And the bog down in the valley-o.Ho, ro, the rattlin' bog,The bog down in the valley-o.Real bog, the rattlin' bog,The bog down in the valley-o.Well on that limb there was a nest,A rare nest and a rattlin' nest,And the nest on the limb,And the limb on the branch,And the branch on the tree,And the tree in the hole,And the hole in the bog,And the bog down in the valley-o.Ho, ro, the rattlin' bog,The bog down in the valley-o.Real bog, the rattlin' bog,The bog down in the valley-o.Now in that nest there was a bird,A rare bird and a rattlin' bird,And the bird in the nest,And the nest on the limb,And the limb on the branch,And the branch on the tree,And the tree in the hole,And the hole in the bog,down in the valley-o.Ho, ho, the rattlin' bog,The bog down in the valley-o.Real bog, the rattlin' bog,The bog down in the valley-o.In that bird there was an egg,A rare egg and a rattlin' egg,And the egg on the bird,And the bird in the nest,And the nest on the limb,And the limb on the branch,And the branch on the tree,And the tree in the bog,And the hole in the bog,And the bog down in the valley-o.Ho, ro, the rattlin' bog,The bog down in the valley-o.Real bog, the rattlin' bog,The bog down in the valley-o.In that egg there was a bird,A rare bird and a rattlin' bird,And the bird on the egg,And the egg on the bird,And the bird in the nest,And the nest on the limb,And the limb on the branch,And the branch on the tree,And the tree in the bog,And the hole in the bog,And the bog down in the valley-o.Ho, ro, the rattlin' bog,The bog down in the valley-o.Real bog, the rattlin' bog,The bog down in the valley-o.

January 2024 Newsletter

Here we are at the start of a New Year, and my one resolution is to do better at this newsletter thing. Let's begin with a bit of a catch-up, shall we?

The second half of last year was filled with medial issues that I'm pleased to say are about 85% behind me...at least for now. There are two-three more hurdles to clear and I should be back to my normal level of chaos...and I am looking forward to that!

I'm still working on final edits on Hero, struggling through writing on the collab (that I still can't talk too much about), and re-discovering two YA novels that I found buried in my Nanowrimo folder. More on those later - I'd like to have them out by the end of 2024 but I'd also like to be able to fly and to speak all the languages and...and...and...

Old Lady Kaylee Frye sells books
at ConCarolinas

On to appearances/shows/signings in 2024: Those last hurdles I mentioned will keep me from being at ConPossible in February, but I have lined up two trusty sherpas to man my table with signed copies of my books. This is the Con formerly known as the Atlanta Steampunk Expo and I'm just gutted not to be able to be there this time - these folks are so nice and so welcoming!

Hopefully I will be able to attend the Dahlonega Literary Festival in March, but there will be more on that as January and February roll along. This will be a new event for me, so fingers crossed there.

I'm still discussing logistics with the Georgia Renaissance Festival for an author event there, so watch this space for more information. I'm hoping it will be scheduled before Georgia turns into the surface of the sun, but I grew up there so I know it could be hot there right now. 

Once I have heard from more events and shows I will add to this list. I'm hoping for a return to ConCarolinas and ConGregate. Again, watch this space.

Finally, I could not do any of this without you, especially now, and I so appreciate all of your support. Remember, if you want to help an author, one of the best ways is to leave a review - it helps other folks find my work and it gives me very important feedback that can only make future novels better.

Thanks y'all! Happy New Year!

June Newsletter! Better One, or Better Two...?

Hey, y'all. Listen, I have a question for you. Have you been to the eye doctor recently/ever? You know how you have to tell the doctor which lens helps you see best, with the tried and true, "better one...or better two?"

Well, today you get to do that for me. I need some feedback. I'm looking at changing the font on the front of Red to make it more interesting and less...well, drippy. The font that I thought looked like FIRE actually looks more like MOLTEN LAVA and that isn't the vibe I'm going for here. So....

Better ONE or better TWO:

  

Let me know what you think. I can see pros and cons for both.

In the meantime, I will be starting on the edits for Hero in July for Camp NaNoWriMo, and working more on the failed Kindle Vella project, "The Outpost." More on that later.

I had a FANTASTIC weekend at Con Carolinas after an equally fantastic one at the Author Event at GARF. While you're thinking on which font is better, have a look through some photos from those two events.

Remember, my next event is Congregate in July...I hope to see you there!

  

This pose is becoming a tradition...Kaylee Frye at 50 Cosplay and Saucy Vala Cosplay

The ConCarolinas Corner Setup

GARF Day Two Cosplay: An Author, a la 1994

Your Intrepid Authors in the Wild

Look, y'all, it's my sister!

Life in a Southern...Canopy.

The Booth at GARF...the Hot and Sweaty Booth...

Click here to check out my Amazon bookshelf  | Visit My Website | Send me a Message

Music Monday: Of Booms, Shakes, and Funnel Fries

I am back from a glorious* weekend at the Georgia Renaissance Festival! This was a new experience for me...for the first time, I joined other amazing authors to sign/sell books at GARF instead of following a large dog around all day. 

I was looking for something that could convey the music that we were treated to at our tables on Saturday and Sunday, but how do you combine majestic trumpets, thundering drums, Italian pipes, and violins? Well, you don't...at least I don't. So I thought that I would instead treat you to this gem I heard on the television as it was on in the background of a mad editing session. (Thank goodness for Shazam!)

This song IS the 20 years I've been affiliated with the Georgia Renaissance Festival. It is me sitting in the car on day one, afraid to go in with my greyhounds. It is me putting on my Wild Hunt cosplay and searching for oathbreakers with the rest of the Hounds. It is the quiet just before FIRE IN THE HOLE and after, in the parking lot, when the car door is closed and the A/C is blasting. 

Enjoy. The lyrics are in the captions.

*by glorious, I of course mean exhausting, hot, muggy, and in a few cases painful...and 100% worth it.

Music Monday: Right Outta Nowhere

Once upon a time, I was an interpreter who moved to a new state and, while dreaming of being a writer, hadn't gone in that direction. Yet.
Once upon a time, I was a fledgling writer who had published some fairly entertaining stories about my dogs but hadn't yet tried to write in the genre where my heart lives and thrives. Yet.
Once upon a time, I was a newlywed--again--who was moving to a new country and was utterly terrified and excited in equal measure. Okay, that part isn't really true, I was just terrified. But I remembered this song by an artist introduced to me back in those first days as an interpreter here in SC. 
This weekend I'm going to a brand new event, and while I'm not MOVING TO ANOTHER COUNTRY terrified, I'm pretty apprehensive. But this time, I revisited this song that my friend Katy introduced me to and found...hope. I found freedom. I hope you will too.
Leap...and the net will appear.

Right Outta Nowhereby Christine Kane
Midwest morning October snowfallShe packed her ChevorletAnd brushed her fear awayShe got a great big dreamAnd a history of playin' smallAnd everybody seems to thinkShe'll be back by Christmas dayWell, She hit that highwayWith every bit of faith she could summonWhen courage finally comes you never see it comin'
Right out of nowhereOpen your heart, that changes everythingYou're goin' somewhereAnd all you need to knowIs that you're free to go
Summer night the soft smell of seashoreAnd all the deadheads dancing out on the beachHe's got a 10-year tanAnd his own little junk store he saysSome people got a lot to prove and that's the way I used to beI'm just an old hippy with a half dozen PhDsSome choices hold you downSome chances set you free
Right out of nowhereOpen your heart, that changes everythingYou're goin' somewhere.And all you need to know...Is that you're free to go
And you dreamAnd the way will be clearAnd you prayAnd the angels will hearLead and the net will appear
Right out of nowhereBelieve in everythingYou're going somewhere And all you need to know Is that you're free Right outta nowhere You open your heart And have faith in everything You're going somewhere And all you need to know Is that you're free to go 

Upcoming Appearances, 2023

At 742 North, Rock Hill, Fall 2022

So I sat down the other day and looked at my travel calendar for this year. Whew! There is a lot coming up, and I can't wait to get started.

(I have submitted applications to DragonCon and will submit to Multiverse, both in Atlanta, and if I'm successful this time, y'all will be the first to hear about it!)

First is the Atlanta Steampunk Expo, where I will be signing copies of Strid (and my other books, too), February 10-12 at the Atlanta Marriott Northeast/Emory Area. My table will be in the Decatur Exchange - come see me!

After that, I will be running up the road to hang out with one of my favorite groups of authors at 742 North's Springtime Blooms event from 10-6 on March 4th. I will have all of my books there and would love to see you if you happen to be in the Rock Hill, SC, area. 

April and May are the Georgia Renaissance Festival, and I'm hoping to get together a signing event one weekend there now that I don't really have a dog that can work with the Hounds. I'm sure that I will be traveling down there with my vaudeville partner, Anne, even if I am without hound...you can take the girl out of the rennies, but you can't take the Rennie out of the...no, that sounded better in my head. Never mind. Moving on.

April is also Camp Nanowrimo, and while that isn't an appearance, it's something that I love dearly. The second round will be in July, so if you don't hear from me during those two months, I'm likely writing.

The second book in the World of Arcstone series, Storm, is set to launch on the 15th of May, just in time to take it to the next event on the list (if I get space in Author's Alley).

The first weekend in June is ConCarolinas at the Hilton Charlotte University Place. I really consider this my home faire, and I've been an author guest there since 2020. I will definitely be an author guest and on panels, and I'm hoping for space in the juried Author's Alley to sell/sign copies of my books. The Kaylee cosplay will be returning, and I'm thinking maybe something Stargate or Star Trek related? We'll see.

July sees me heading up the road to Winston-Salem, NC, for Congregate 9. I had to bow out of Congregate 8 last year, and I'm feeling so lucky and thankful that they are having me back this year. I will be in Author Alley there at the Downtown Marriott.

August will be Back to the DayJob™️ for the most part. September 8-9, I will be setting up at the Upstate Renaissance Faire in Greer, SC, and hoping that we do NOT have weather like last year. I'm excited to decorate my tent and figure out which piece of my Rennie garb will work best for sitting in a chair and signing books. That faire is fantastic, complete with a dragon. Come visit if you're nearby!

September is also my professional development month - and I will return to the Broadleaf Writer's Association annual conference in Decatur, GA. This event always recharges my batteries and prepares me to tackle my next WIP.

November is a busy month, as I'm tentatively planning the launch of the next book in the Guardians of Orana series, Hero. It will also bring another chance to participate in the Time Traveling Authors event at the Carolina Renaissance Festival. More on that event later in the year, and next year I've already been invited to the Dahlonega Literary Festival, which I believe is in March of 2024.

I hope to see you at one or more of these events, so I can ask, "what kind of books do you like to read?" 

Notes from Exile: I think it's October

Me and my best girl, Bryn.
(Carolina Renn Fest)

It felt like October around here for a while last week, but now we are firmly back in August/September. October means faire season, under normal circumstances. It means leaving the house at O'Dark-Thirty to drive two hours and then work all day outdoors with one of my hounds at my side. I may be an accidental Rennie, but a Rennie I am all the same, and I miss it.

Even though my participation there has been tremendously scaled back, my mind has been drifting to a created village in Huntersville, NC, and all the performers and 'fairemly' that I see there every year. I have wished I could have a steaming mug of chai in my hand, trying to keep the excited wolfhound at my side walking calmly so I can drink it rather than wear it. I've missed the shouts of Good Morning from the vendor stalls, seeing my breath (and Bryn's) in the air, and the quiet beauty of the faire before the gates are opened and the tens of thousands of patrons stream through.

I have always loved that part of faire - the part where it's just us there, the way it would be if the grounds were a real, functioning village. The writer (and well-buried actor, if I'm honest) in me loves walking along, imagining that I'm my character: an Irish lass sent with an Irish Wolfhound as a gift for Her Majesty. I love the sway of my hoopskirt as I walk. I love the street performers and vendors already in character, addressing me as 'My Lady' and asking to pet the magnificent beastie at the end of my leash. 

She loves it too - though, in recent years, Bryn has been less apt to stay on a bed in the building we lovingly refer to as the Dog Barn, preferring instead to pull me out to the front to see the people. Ciaragh is the exact opposite - she is unnerved by large crowds and would happily stay glued to a dog bed all day if only the raised beds weren't the proper size for a greyhound and she finds herself slipping off of them onto the floor. 

But neither of the big faires where I work with my dogs happened this year, and the smallish local faire made the decision to close permanently. I keep forgetting how long it has been since one of my girls has surveyed her people from the joust platform in the Southern Kingdom (the Georgia Renaissance Festival) or taken that leisurely walk pre-cannon in the lanes of the Northern Kingdom (the Carolina Renaissance Festival). I forget until one of them noses her way into the guest room-turned-pandemic supply storage and happens upon my straw hat or a stray glove. They press their nose against it, wringing out the last smells of FAIRE, and then look up at me and wag. 

We're holding onto those last smells, the images like the ones above, and the lifelong friendships formed in the early morning fog, over mugs of chai and corset lacing, until we can do all of it again in person. Huzzah, well met, and on to the rest of October!

My Little Irish Wanderer...and the Aftermath

Well, so it has been a hot minute since I last updated this - or wrote anything if I'm honest, but work and life have not given me a second to breathe, let alone open the laptop.

That little face there is my Ciaragh (Our Cailín Ádh), and she has had a marvelous adventure this week that nearly ended me. She and I were working at the Georgia Renaissance Festival this past Saturday and I completely forgot that there was a cannon shot from the bow of the pirate ship until it went off with us standing right there. She started to vibrate and I tightened up a bit on her leash to make sure she didn't bolt. My wonderful niece was there with my sister and she tried to comfort Ciaragh, but as soon as she moved away and I slacked up the slightest bit on the leash, C saw her chance and bolted. Now, for the initial escape, I was still holding onto the leash, so I spun around and was dragged behind her (through the gravel) until she could dash through the exit. Sadly I did not make the graceful turn through the S-bend of an exit that she did and instead bounced off the large wooden fence that marks the boundary between onstage and offstage.

Two of my group's volunteers and a GARF cast member pursued her as a third volunteer and my sister and niece stayed with me. At first, all I could do was make a primal growly sound because gravel+skin=OW but I was (and am) all right. It took a minute to walk up to my car, but that was where I fully expected folks to be waiting with C.

They were not.

She managed to evade capture for three more full days, and I drove back to the site every one of those days to keep looking for her. Finally, on Tuesday night around midnight, I got a phone call from someone in the area - Ciaragh was on his front porch and could I come get her, please?

Once I got my heart started again, I made some calls and arranged for some folks to go get her and keep her overnight until I could get back on Wednesday. I still don't know how I did not get a speeding ticket on my way to Atlanta that morning, and yesterday (Thursday) we got her into the vet for a checkup - she is fit as a fiddle. An Irish fiddle.

Aftermath: I have helped out with many lost greyhounds in my two decades of having pets in my life as an adult. I have always just gone where I am needed and done what needs to be done, but I have not until now been on this side of the equation. Sure, my greyhounds occasionally got out, but I never had to spend a night without them back home safely - I sent thoughts and prayers to those that did, joined the search, rejoiced in the eventual recovery, but never really got it, until now.

I have ideas percolating (as does hubs) about non-profits that not only look for lost pets but care for the owners of those pets. I had so much love and support that it was overwhelming, especially since I was convinced that Ciaragh's loss was my fault, but when it came to trying to pay for gas to keep searching, tracking teams to bring in, other pet recovery specialists who need money for materials and time - it is an expensive prospect to find your pet if they go missing, and mine was only gone for three days! So, I will let that idea keep rolling around. There has to be something that can be created that will harness the talents of EVERYONE that wanted to help rather than narrowing down the field of helpers to only those affordable options. What if we had not had a breed club behind us to help? I already have some ideas that were born from the search for Ciaragh.

So, enough of me. My girl is back, and she has effectively helped me write the last chapter of her Clobberpaws book, and I'm going to go snuggle her on the couch before I get back to writing. Make sure your pets are chipped and tagged, y'all...and loved.

Dia duit ó GARF.

Almost TOO Irish, that.

Go raibh míle maith agat to Chris Heffron (of the Southern Travel Guide) for this great shot from last Sunday afternoon. While hopping from shade spot to shade spot, Bryn and Anne and Bo and I ran into one of our dear friends from the GARF cast, Andy (aka Irish or Jordan Hale) as he was waiting to be able to spend a bit of time with his lady-love (who also works at GARF). Andy is just one of many cast members who have made us feel at home and part of the family at GARF this year (and in years past), and we can't thank him (and them) enough.

It's funny, it's like we are almost too Irish here and Bryn is trying to make a break for it. My sweet girl...she didn't have the best weekend this time around, adding stealing a sandwich off a table and trying to abscond with a turkey leg to her list of accomplishments this season. I hope that my renewed enthusiasm for this faire will bleed over to her, but I know that I am causing some of her frustration when I expect her to do bad things before she does them. She is still roaring at the horses during the joust and wagging her tail when her favourite princess says her name, so I think she is still my Rennie Hound. Dia linn, for the rest of the run, I say. Dia linn.

Lights at the Ends of Various Tunnels

Me and my girl at GARF,
photo courtesy of the Southern Travel Guide

Yeah, the last post was pretty grim, and if I'm honest, the work situation (that I still can't talk about) hasn't gotten any better, but there have been bright spots and that's what we are going to focus on in THIS post.

One of them is featured in the photo: The Georgia Renaissance Festival. Now, this is not a new thing, not by a longshot, but apparently, the fourteenth year is the charm, hoopskirt issue notwithstanding. I have made friends at GARF in the past, cast members and vendors and directors and the like, but this year just feels different. I feel at home in "Newcastle" in a way I have yet to feel at home in "Fairhaven" after fifteen years in what we refer to as the Northern Kingdom.

What has changed? Me? Having Bryn? I don't know. But this past weekend, I was able to play, really play, with both the cast and with my partner in crime, Lucy to my Ethel, and the only other member of HOEF that does more than one or two weekends at GARF, Anne. Perhaps it is the beautiful friendship that has formed between her Bo and my Bryn. Perhaps it is Anne's extrovert that brings my introvert along, often kicking and screaming, to get to know the cast.

Whatever it is, I am profoundly sad on days that I have to miss attending GARF, even though it means a 5 am start every Saturday and a late afternoon arrival back home, dirty and sweaty and hot every Sunday between the middle of April and the first weekend in June. I long to be in the lanes, even though that means pulling turkey tendons out of Bryn's mouth and replacing steak sandwiches that she snatches in the blink of an eye. I dream of the joust, and of watching with pride as Bryn thumps her tail when her favorite princess rides by, upside down in her saddle, even though I'm fighting the reflection of the sun off the light colored sand which is swirling about in my eyes and nose.

I'm hoping that this feeling of Rennie family will continue into the fall when I am again with my HOEF family in the dog barn on the eastern side of Fairhaven, and that we can project the kind of skilled performance that we are learning at GARF into our wonderfully laid back home at the Enchanted Chalice in Greenville, SC. Vikings ahoy!

I did say tunnels in the title, didn't I? While GARF is the light at the end of one tunnel, the fact that I only have four days left until my summer break is certainly another. But that tunnel is not quite as bright because I will have several months of empty coffee meetings to look forward to without Daisy. While it hasn't been easy without her, it has been easier because I've had work to distract me. Without my daily commute to Clemson, I am going to have to face what our reality looks like now; no queen on the end of my bed, huffing because I've rearranged my legs and accidentally knocked her about. No beautiful blonde/red fawn fur glimmering in the green grass of the back yard as she sunbathes. No teeth chattering in my ear.

But you see that muppet in the picture with me? She is a light of her own, and she and Willow are there to distract me when they can and snuggle with me when they can't. Their light comes to find me in my tunnel and shines into the darkness to remind me to keep moving forward.

Finally, there is light at the end of the Superginormous Manuscript tunnel...book one in the three book series that it has become is almost ready to go to Amazon, and that is both exciting and horrifying. I took the first Camp Nanowrimo to edit the second book, and am not working on editing/fleshing out the third in between expense reports and mad garb sewing/laundering. So all in all, my life has far more light than dark. I just need to be able to remember that and hang on to it...and keep moving.

What I've been up to...

You'll see me for a second when she talks about the heavy costumes we wear...I'm on the left in the orange.

Back to the Grind...

Got my commuter face on...
Originally uploaded by Nancy Allen

But it's going to be a slow week and a short week, so maybe it won't be too awful. I swear, last week lasted about a month, and having a short weekend due to spending yesterday at the Georgia Renaissance Festival didn't help. The older I get, the more I need to spend lots and lots of time doing lots and lots of nothing to make up for the lots and lots I do.

Yesterday at GARF was lovely. The people down there are so nice to us and we love going to visit, even if it does get hotter than the surface of a dying star quickly in Georgia in the spring. I was amused yesterday to think of how many of the folks that work there (and at the Carolina festival) I can recognize by sight but have NO idea what their names are...sometimes not even their character names.

I've had my scotch egg fix now, though, and should be good until CRF in October. I did get a little misty on the ride home yesterday (in between blasts of cold air from the A/C in an attempt to stay awake) thinking that I had just finished my last performance with GARF.

There are going to be a lot of those this year...my last time going to CRF, my last Beach Bound Hounds...and it's so easy to get wrapped up in sadness and slide off my plateau that I've mentioned in other posts. But this morning I was doing a flickr surf and found some photos of an interpreting colleague of mine and his family...and that helped because I was looking at him and his wife and kids and thinking, "Now I can have that too...Simon and I can have kids and trips to the zoo and nursery school programs and field days and and and..." and somehow that made the melancholy lift a bit.

Off to get the house cleaned up...someone is coming to appraise it for the upcoming sale (yay for rental house living...you just never know...) and if I don't get it tidy then the poor man won't be able to reach the walls, let alone measure for square footage!

What will I do come October?

Nancy-Profile Georgia RennFest
Originally uploaded by NanLassiter.

(Thanks Ben for the photo of me and my handsome boy Profile from the Georgia Renn Fest.)

On Renn Fests, Sofas, and the Dining Room Floor

My season with the Georgia Renaissance Festival has now come to a close. I went yesterday with all three greyhounds, but luckily we had an abundance of handlers so I spent a lot of the day dogless! I say luckily...but I admit to being a bit giddy every time I spotted one of my dogs approaching with his/her handler to be returned to me.

I actually saw a Lost Boys show yesterday...from the back, admittedly, with Profile in tow, but it was a great show. The Boys never cease to amaze me with the amount of dedication they put into each performance, and how much they obviously love what they do.

Hunk has been on his favorite sofa almost non-stop since we got home. I love Susan and Dave's red sofa, and actually fell asleep on it for a bit last night. Despite the fact that it occasionally seems as though it wants to swallow me (lots of pillows), it's definitely mine and Hunky's favorite place to be while visiting Unka Dave and Aunt Susan.

Jeany's favorite place to be this weekend seems to be their dining room...especially when she really needs to go out. Dave and Susan's friend Ben was visiting this weekend as well, and he was unfortunately awakened when Jeany decided to break the rules and use the dining room as her own personal facilities. Could I have been a more proud Momma? If I ever bring Daiz down here after she retires I'm probably going to be so nervous I'll keep her leashed to me the entire time we're visiting.

I'm really going to miss coming down here. I don't get to spend near enough time with my family, and when I do, it's usually Mom and Daddy just because they are closer. It's also hard to get together with Susan and Dave because of their work schedules...weekends are work time for them. I am really lucky to have a sister and brother-in-law that will not only put up with me bringing my dogs into their pet-free home weekend after weekend but also will let the other members of my renn fest group come along and bring THEIR dogs! Thanks, Unka Dave and Aunt Sooz. You rule.

"Tourt-cha....Tourt-cha....the whole day phrew...."

(title most unceremoniously stolen from the dear Executioner at GARF who serenaded us...)

"Nay, my dearest Tim Tam, thou shoud'st sniff Master Smiter's drum just there, carefully avoiding his kilt and knees..."


"My Dear Lord Above, the Lady Potato Head has't taken on the King's Weiner, and appears to be winning!!"


"Hmmm, be it truly lady-like, my dear Antoinette, to chomp down on a fried pickle with such abandon?"


The Ladies of East Fairhaven...some of us anyway. What is so funny?

Dude...Life is Good!

The Obligatory LB photo
Originally uploaded by NanLassiter.

Weekend 2 of the Georgia Renaissance Festival is now in the can, as they say, and we made it through with only a few problems. I had to take a photo with a Lost Boy, of course, and since Tom Smiter is the one I know the best he was the lucky victim...er...target...er...yeah, whatever. Huzzah! Click here to see a slideshow of our weekend at faire!

Happy Easter! Pass the Febreeze, please?

Today marks the last day of our mini-vacation/first weekend of the Georgia Renaissance festival/invasion of my sister's house. I have been puppy sitting as well as visiting and serving as the director of the HOEF, and it's been very interesting. I have kept Simon before but at MY house...I've never traveled with him before now.

The dogs and I headed out Friday afternoon about 5:30 on our journey with a brief stopover in Six Mile to pick up Simon. Six Mile is a small town near Clemson, and there is no fast way to get there (as is true for many small towns in South Carolina). While Simon was happy to see visitors and even happier to sniff my dogs, his long time buddies, when it came time to get in the car he wasn't having any of it. I ended up lifting him into the car and coming away with more fur on ME than he had on him I think...

The ride to Atlanta was fine. There were only a few GRRRS and of course they happened when I was on the phone with my mother, giving her more reason to think that my dogs are dangerous. I'm telling you, the only dangerous thing about the furry head currently pressed up against my leg on the sofa is what happens if he eats anything with soy in it...see previous post about Unka Dave's nose.

Thursday night went well, better than I thought it would. The four dogs and I shuffled off into the guest room at about 1am and once I got them placed on beds I didn't hear another peep out of them till morning. Susan had a Good Friday service during the day Friday so Dave and I went to get me third leather leash for the festival Saturday and left the dogs here. They did SO well...except for the gas.

Holy geezominey, I'd forgotten just what "grain-fed" farts smell like. My word! Febreeze!!!

Friday night I decided that Hunky's foot was just not ready to handle the gravel at GARF (and that since some of the folks I thought were coming didn't), so I would just go over and make sure that my new folks were set and ready to go and then I'd come back to Dave and Susan's. I took Simon and Jeany with me, and at one point opened the back window of the Hounda so that the folks could meet them. "Won't they jump out?" Doug says. "Oh no," I respond, the confident face of a long time dog owner shining. "Jeany doesn't like to get out if it's dirty and Simon barely got in the car, I don't think he'd jump out with the tail gate up."

Then I turned away from the car, and suddenly became wrong.

Luckily Doug caught the flying brindle blur that swept past my right ear and landed, ever so gracefully, with his nose in the heinder of Doug's pretty little brindle girl.

I got back to Dave and Susan's and Dave and I ran over to Cokesbury, a store I remember going to as a child...it's a kind of a supply store for clergy. After that, we met his friend Ben for lunch in East Atlanta at a bar/pub called The Earl. Best grilled cheese I've had in a while...and Dave and Ben just kept me laughing the entire time.

Today is Easter, and this morning the hounds woke me up around 8:30. I took them out and fixed their breakfast. By the way, if you feed raw, there really is no substitute for it. Kibbles that don't have grains in them have other FAR MORE STINKY things in them to bind the ingredients together. And if you think they are stinky going in... Pass the Febreeze. After they ate, they sort of scattered as I was rinsing out the dishes so I went looking...and found that our visiting hound, Simon, had made a little bit of a mess...in mulitple rooms of the house as well as perfuming Susan and Dave's room. I should own stock in Febreeze.

We're heading for home after lunch with a brief stop in Six Mile to leave Simon. Next weekend we'll do it all over again, but this time without the fourth pupper and definitely without the kibble. I'm thinking I should bring them a bottle of Febreeze, though, just in case...

In which Unka Dave pulls his shirt up over his nose...

The puppers (and Simon) and I are visiting my sister and her husband, Dave, this weekend for the opening of the Georgia Renaissance Festival and Easter. We're doing all kinds of new, exciting, and different things on this adventure, like fitting four greyhounds into the back of my Honda Element, racing down I-85 hoping to get their food to a refrigerator before it goes stinky because I didn't stop for ice, and trying a new kibble that has no grains in it whatsoever.

The fitting of the four greyhounds went remarkably well, considering one of mine even got carsick on the way down to Atlanta. (I had no idea till I got here, joy, bliss...) The racing down to Atlanta went well also, as I channeled my father upon leaving Simon's people's house and struck out following road signs to get back to the interstate.

The new kibble is the flop of the weekend I think. First of all, it STINKS. SMELLS REALLY BAD. Were I still in college I might even say it SMELLS LIKE ARSE. Had to expect that, though, when the first ingredient is salmon, followed by tuna. But as bad as it smells going in I think it's worse coming out. Quite honestly (and most likely to the horror of my family) I don't really notice canine flatulence as much as I did when I first got my dogs. It just happens.

Their Unka Dave is not so familiar.

I keep looking over to where he is working on something for the Good Friday service tonight and he intermittently will pull his t-shirt up over his nose. But they love you, Unka Dave....