Perspectives: Long on Points

It's been ages, I know. Over a year since the last post. To be honest, I'm surprised I kept it going as long as I did. But my evil cat didn't kill me. I wasn't crushed by a pile of falling books (though that is a legit hazard around here). Didn't change jobs, or open my own bakery or start making sword-related quilts full time- though that would be awesome! Na, I'd just gotten a bit lazy and stagnant with my swordings. I found that dreaded plateau, the plain of suck in the kindgom of lame, where I wasn't getting a whole lot better, didn't seem to be learning anything particularly new, just was kind of... existing. If ever there was a time for the word ennui, that was it.

Then I spent the weekend watching the fighters at Longpoint, amazing guys like Mr. Montante, otherJake, Stripeysocks, the Wizard Tim and so many more, and the pessimist in me thought first, "Man, I have such a long way to go. I'm never going to get to that level." Then more thinking. "Look how far I've come though! Maybe I could," because I actually am an optimist like that. But then realist me added in, "Ya, but you're not willing to put in that much work." Which is very entirely true. All valid thoughts, all correct too, which got me to thinking about perspectives. What are we in HEMA for anyway? The truth, for me anyway, is that swords saved me. But that's a story for another time. Some folks are in it for the competition, to be the best with whatever it takes. Some are in it to prove something- to themselves, their parents, their goldfish Cleo... Some do it for the history, some for the research, some because it makes them feel cool. Some, just because... well, swords. Personally, I'm in it for the fun. Or I was, until I lost it. Thanks to two recent events, I think I found it again. It's all in how you look at it.

Perspective Shift #1- Heat Tempered at VARF

Back in late May, we went down to the Virginia Renaissance Faire to visit Harnessfechten and his armored cronies (the Blue & Green Knights especially) from the Order of the Marshall. I loved and admired them before, but gained SOOO much respect for those guys that weekend. Listening to the stories about previous events, wishing mightily that I hadn't missed out on Harness's alligator death roll the previous week, we cowered in the shade of the tent, waiting for their next show. It was the hottest day of the year (at that point), over 95 degrees, and they were out there for three performances a day, in full armor, with no shade, a couple times a week. Rain, mud, blistering heat, showers of toads, whatever, and they were out there educating the masses and being all historical, fighting with polearms and swords... It was amazing. And they did it all for free! All donations they received went to the Make a Wish Foundation. So we watched them out there sweating and steaming in their lovely tin cans for two shows in the miserable, humid, mid-Atlantic heat. Just breathing made you sweat. All that heat really takes it out of you though, which is why I got the opportunity to try a taste of it. There seemed a general lack of enthusiasm energy when it came time for the last show of the day, so I volunteered to fill in if need be, though in normal kit. Nobody protested much. Maybe I should've taken note of that.

I borrowed a gambeson and managed to squash everything down and inside (think overbust corset), fluffing out my dress at the bottom because, you know, style. We grabbed the gloves, mask, swords, and the other guys and made our way up to the fight area. Even cheesy ren faire garb like I had is built of varying layers of hot, heat, and hellfire, and all that beneath the BLACK gambeson made the walk dreadfully toasty. The Blue Knight began the history spiel while the rest of us slowly roasted in the sun. Actually, I love getting the history along with the fighting- that's one thing we don't seem to focus on much- what was going on in the world while our fencing forefathers were jotting down cryptic notes. Anyway, after the historical bits, we were able to do a little sparring for the crowd, in which I learned many things that I did not properly appreciate before:

1. Fighting outside in non-climate controlled surroundings is a whole different animal.
2. Black kit is stupid for fights in sunlight. Or when it's hot. Or over dresses. Or in humidity. Or....
3. Fighting in a dress is weird... but I could totally get used to it. Might have to look into that.
4. Shoes make a difference. We practice fighting barefoot in the dojo. Wear tennis shoes for tourneys. Soft-soled cloth maryjanes for fighting? Not bright.
5. You don't worry much about horse poo when someone's coming at you with a sword.
6. The folks who do this stuff on a regular basis are amazing! A little nutty, but amazing.

Martin the Warrior had agreed to play with me. He was a fun sparring partner, and very generously went easy on me. By the end though, even after just half an hour or however the heck long the show was, I definitely had a better appreciation for what battling in reality might have been like- and I didn't even have my own can to roast in. I do not like it in the heat, I do not like to cook like meat. I do not want to fight out there, I'd rather fight about anywhere (else). The wonderful Knights even gave us honorary Order of the Marshal patches after. I'm going to sport mine like an "I survived" kind of badge. The experience did make me want to find someone to invent a cooling system for armored suits though. Maybe a little internal fan/mist system just below the visor, or that cool gel stuff in an arming cap or something. Oh! Maybe add a trap door in back like those suits of long underwear!

Perspective #2: Pressure Tested at Longpoint

I missed registration for Longpoint this year. It opened up while I was at school, and the county where I work, in its wisdom, blocks all mentions of 'swords' or 'weapons' of any kind with our awesome internet filters. By the time I got home, registration had filled up. No worries, I figured I'd volunteer instead. Then I could still go at least. I ended up being assigned as a judge on Team 2. The best team. Seriously.

The team setup was terrific. From the very beginning, we knew who we reported to, where to go, and what we were responsible for. It was awesome. We've practiced judging before in class, and I'd done it at FNY and Shortpoint. I actually really like judging, and don't completely suck at it either (though I'm sure there are a few fighters who would disagree). The staff tournament was a great way to practice the judging and to figure out how everything was going to work. Kudos to the Bosslady for working that system out and putting it into practice!

Showtime. Remember when you were a kid, and there was that one kid who was stuck inside all summer with a broken leg while all the other kids were outside playing? That was me when the pools opened Friday morning. Watching forlornly while the first fighters geared up (conveniently forgetting that I hate gearing up, and hate that I always seem to be in the first round of fighters). Helping zip up the jacket for a fighter without a coach, wishing it was me being zipped (despite the fact that I despise my gambeson). Watching from the sidelines as the first few bouts progressed, half wishing I was in the ring myself (completely ignoring the memory of the nausea that swamps me when I enter the ring).

But... when the first fighter went down with a blown knee, then I remembered the good stuff. I had baked sword cookies earlier without having to do it to calm myself down. I wasn't risking injuries this time (intentionally, anyway... nearly got flattened twice by a flying monkey. Baboon. Whichever.) I didn't have that queasy I'm going to puke in my mask feeling. I wasn't nervous or freaking out about competing, or worried about disappointing anyone. I was there, with all my sword pals, surrounded by potential new sword friends, participating without anyone hitting me at all. I was a judge, part of the action, with a front row seat and license to feed everyone cookies after. No bruises! No sweating! No apologies! It was awesome. Perspective!

But of course, everyone hates the judges. I kinda think every fighter ought to be required to judge at least once each competition, just so he can be reminded about how tricky calling shots can be. I know I've complained about judges before (only very sweetly, of course!), and I'm sure plenty complained about us. I know I ticked off one poor guy, as he ended up literally hopping mad, but I swear I truly saw that hit land flat. I was a little freaked at his reaction, but the Swedish Wrestler, our marshall, agreed, so that helped ease my worry and restore confidence a bit. I felt awful anyway. Overall though, with all the switching and rotating, the combining of different judges and angles, the team leadership that was present at this Longpoint, I think it had to be the best judged event I've attended yet. It's interesting attending an event with no intention of competing. The stress was completely absent. I got to concentrate on just watching the fights, calling shots to myself in all the bouts, observing and hopefully picking up on techniques I can use next time I do decide to join in.

After my judging term was up, I slipped into the Webmaster's class on designing club websites. Most useful class ever! I've taken web design classes before, but it's been ages, and a whole lot has changed since then. I took pages and pages of notes, sketched out layouts and ideas... and left it all in the Professor's car. Look for the new Body & Blade/Fenris KdF webage, coming soon! Well, soon-ish. Might be next week. At least before school starts back up. Maybe. Anyway, it seems a bit weird, but I think Longpoint may have been my most relaxing vacation this summer.

Best of all, I think I found that spark I needed to get back into my sword studies more wholeheartedly. Sometimes, we just need to look at things from a different perspective... even if it's a weird one.

FNY Report: I am NOT Groot

It's been ages I know, but I'm trying to get back into writing and figured the details on my first trip up to New York might be entertaining. It's a bit long, but there's a lot of people getting hit with sharp sticks, some oozy stuff, and lots of sword cookies.

I wasn't nearly as nervous this time before the tourney, since I've set my tournament bar to a nice and achievable level: don't die, learn as much as you can, try not to get shut out, and don't spend the entire time in pflug. Mostly it worked, though I still had some nerves. When I get nervous, I bake. Two hundred or so sword cookies later, I was ready. Ish.

Driving to upstate New York is much more fun when you're not the one doing the driving. Luckily, the Professor drove, and I just tried to stay awake the whole time. Tried. The best part though was seeing the look of mild horror on his face grow the further and further we drove past 'civilization'. I'd made him watch this wonderfully bad little horror film called "Treevenge" a few weeks ago... I suspect that memories were coming to haunt him as the trees grew thicker and more prolific. (https://vimeo.com/5048966 if you haven't seen it- it's 16 minutes of awesome) We'd left at o'dark thirty, and finally made it to our motel but were unable to check in so early, so we headed over to the campsite to meet up with our own Harnessfechten, who was camping. I don't do camping. Bugs like me too much. Everyone else within a ten mile radius would probably be safe, but I'd be covered in mosquito bites. If I had camped, I'd have stood there in the ring and let people poke me with swords, just to ease the itching. Ended up kinda doing that anyway, minus the itching, but that's for later.

It was hot and humid- two of the most awful words in the English language. So most people seemed to just be hanging out and talking, getting things set up, admiring people's swords (not a euphemism), and patting the puppies. The Professor's a social butterfly, so he flitted off to greet everyone. I renewed a few acquantances, got lots of hugs (huggiest bunch of people ever, seriously), met some new friends from Athena group in Boston, and ended up settling in the shade with Harnessfechten and our new yankee pals, learning more about CKDF pals, and petting puppies. Not a bad way to spend an afternoon, really, but it got even more fun when the cutting class started.

I like cutting. I rather rot at it, but it's fun. I would've sold my cat (not the nice one) for a notebook and pen so I could take notes, but Tristan had us practicing with feders, so that would've been tricky to do while holding a pen. It was fascinating really, just listening to all the factors that come into play when you're cutting- the blade alignment of course, plus footwork if you're moving or stationary, the motion of your hips, tightening your core... all of it. Apparently quite a lot of the oomph comes from the hip movement. I'm figuring if I can harness that motion, and get my alignment right, I have enough hip I should be able to take anyone in cutting! I ended up being one of the last to do my cutting on the tatami. Patience, thy name is Tristan. Between him and the Wizard Tim, I got all kinds of great tips to help improve my cutting. The Professor picked up a new cutting stand, and I got the old one, so I'll be practicing. I want to do as well as our Harness did filling in for the Professor in the cutting tourney next time!

After cutting was hanging around the campfire time, which is always entertaining. Good conversations and watching the silliness is fun. I think maybe we should start a HEMA Introverts group though. All us quiet folks could just sit on the edges and chill in harmony. And bugs. I think I kept everyone at the campfire safe and bug free. Also kept people sugared up when we passed around the first box of sword cookies. They didn't last long.

Saturday was tournament day! I wasn't at all nervous for some reason, though maybe I should've been. I still hate my gambeson- it's way too stiff and tight. (If you're getting one custom, I'd add at least half an inch to every measurement.) The rest of it I'm getting used to though, which is good. I really like my new Red Dragon gloves too, though the SPES fingertips are going to have to go. Or maybe I'll just cut them in half or something- they're too long for me to be able to bend the ends of my fingers. I got new shin guards too- the Samurai catcher's knees are kind of awesome, even though I couldn't get them in my blue. They have a piece that catches just above the knee, cover the whole length below, and wrap around enough to protect the sides and ankles too. They're great- and they just clip on and off easily. But a fencing mask rots when you wear glasses. There is no good way to get it on and off and have your glasses stay put. Then the lenses fog up. As you sweat, they slip. And you start to sweat a lot when you see that your first opponent is Captain America.

I'd been hoping to have a chance to try a fight with otherJake since Shortpoint last year. He's one of those fencers that's just pretty to watch. Perfect footwork, always on target, moving deliberately and with coordination I've never known. I've only really seen him fencing for fun before, light sparring at practice or being playful while testing rules. Not this time though. Intense focus. No more smiles, just serious and down to business. I hadn't ever seen Tournament otherJake. There was kind of a huffing and puffing to get ready (that was more in the cutting really, but it fits better here). I'm fairly convinced he grew another six inches taller. I'm pretty sure he got at least three wider. Maybe I was just overwhelmed. Either way, it was like meeting the Big Bad Wolf in person, and I've never felt quite so much like the whole bunny thing was a bad idea. I rarely take anything seriously. This though, I did. I won't deny it was a little scary.

And I wish to heck I could remember more of it. lol. I remember initially, the Professor telling me to take the fight over to the corner near one of the judges in particular. I wasn't to wait and defend, but go on the offense (ha!) and take the fight to him. He'd probably be in pflug, he said, he usually is- go in with a schielhau. So the ringboss yelled fight, and I moved forward... but he wasn't in pflug, and he wasn't waiting either. I don't even remember where I got hit, but that pass went quickly. We reset. Second pass, all I remember is the stars.

He had stars in his eyes. I'd never noticed. On his mask too. I didn't remember him having multicolored stars on his gambeson, but I hadn't looked properly before. They were on his sword too! There were stars on the ceiling! On the floor! Everywhere I looked, I could see them. Gloriously colored, flashing brightly. I stumbled, and distinctly remember thinking that I didn't want to squish the stars, so I kind of staggered but managed to stay upright, though leaning on my sword. I'm not sure if I gave him the post match hug that seems to go with all matches or not- sorry if I missed it though! I did hear the score announced, and totally mumbled "you're darn right he did" when they mentioned control points. Pretty sure I sat down for a bit after that. They tell me he did one of those "all your swords are belong to us" maneuvers- schwert nehmen I think (won't forget that one again), and caught me a wicked pommel strike. I'm sorry to have missed it. lol. Must've had my eyes closed. But I've got a pretty good goose egg and a dent in my mask as souvenirs!

So I continue my apparent habit of getting royally nailed in like the first match of each tournament I enter- but at least it wasn't my hand this time! After that, it had to get better. It did, actually. My other pool matches are a little fuzzy, but I know I at least scored in each of them, which was one of my goals. And forgive me for not remembering names, but I got two compliments that meant the world- one fellow commented that I displayed good technique, and another gave me my hug and said something like "well, that wasn't easy." I'm keeping them both, though I think they might have been exaggerating. The second fellow though showed me a definite flaw in my fighting- I'm not good at being the aggressor (clearly), so when I tried, he just politely parried my strikes and then paused... which made me pause, thinking they'd called time or I'd done something wrong... then he bonked me over the head. Excellent strategy vs. someone who apologizes for hitting you. Ringboss Bill (not going to call him Big Chief Tipi like the Professor suggested) called me on that too- don't stop fighting until someone stops you. Several times he said it, actually. I have to remember that. Feel free to use that strategy against me until I do. Got another compliment from him too, which means worlds. Maybe I'm not quite as awful as I think I am. Hey, at least I have fun with it.

Judging was fun, but I worry I'm missing stuff. I got drafted to be one of the junior judges for the Beginner's tourney. I like only having to watch one fighter- I feel like I miss a little less that way. I'm not entirely sure I like the order of hits stuff though- several times I felt that was way off, though that might have been mostly while I was fighting. I know that for a few of the calls in my favor, the other guy hit first. I'm sure it goes both ways, but still. I was trying to keep my calls neutral and not letting the others influence, but it sure is tough when you're not sure exactly what you saw. Luckily, we had a great Ringboss, and my hesitant calls actually matched what he saw fairly often. Why is judge certification not a thing? I'd do it. I think it'd be fun, and would definitely help in interpreting fights. Our Harnessfechten did great in the Beginner Tourney, and even better standing in for the Professor at cutting on Sunday. Spectators polished off the rest of the sword cookies as we watched Harness breeze through most of his cuts in the first round and get a good start on the second too. He did awesomely well, and it was his first time!

After the Beginners were the women's matches, which were fun too. Girl fights! My first women's match was a blast. I got the chance to face one of my new Boston pals that I had missed at IGX when I had to bow out after the great hand whacking. Great fun match, that one was. Boston Athena is a fabulous fencer. I also got to spar with a kitty, pink socks, Turquoise, and a few more (sorry, I forgot to ask name permissions before coming home). I actually won one of my matches too, with one of the ladies who ended up placing in the finals. Woohoo! My last match I got trounced by Turquoise, partly because she was awesome, and partly because she'd managed to land a solid shot right on top of my souvenir bump from earlier. She had pretty stars all in her hair too. It's a good look. So my very first match and my very last book-ended a pretty stellar day of fighting (pun totally intended). The rest of the day I got to spend in the ER watching them squish stuff back into the Professor's finger, but that's his story to tell.

Four things were hammered home that I definitely need to work on:

     1. I am NOT Groot. Must stop being a tree. Trees are sturdy and reliable, but also tend not to get out of the way. As in car accidents, this is not good. I stand way too unmoving in the ring.

     2. Bunnies are not aggressive. They need to be. A little aggression is not a bad thing. Especially when you're TRYING to hit someone with a sword. c vvvv                                                                      
     3. Wind high enough for it to actually do some good. Winden should not be little and cute.

     4. Abzug the heck out of the way after doing something right. Don't get hit.

OH! And aside from the goose egg, I only got one bruise! So apparently I'm at least covering my openings a bit better. Or I got lucky. Either way, bonus! Can't wait for Longpoint!

Week 37 - Size Matters

I'm afraid it really must be said. Size does matter. My ceilings can attest to that. When the day comes to sell my house, I may have to leave swords lying all over the floor or something to keep prospective buyers from ever looking up. However, were they to check out the ceiling, they would notice that my scheitelhaus are perfectly straight. I don't have a big house, so when the weather's cold or gross and I can't practice outside, I have to move from room to room when I practice. For schielhaus and zwerchs, I head to the kitchen, and so long as the dog doesn't come in, that works. Zornhau are trickier. For some reason, Tonka seems to think zorns are an invitation to play, so unless I want him chomping the end of the sword, I have to use doggy toys for those. We have a giant blue knotted rope that works pretty well, though the bottom of the 'sword' arc has a horizontal wiggle, and the upswing usually has a 60+ lb. furball clinging to it. I can usually pull off the scheitels and krumphau in the living room between the piano and the front door.

Generally speaking, my Pavel, who still needs a name, is the perfect size for most practicing, even inside. But then there's my new beauty. She's a Chlebowski feder, lovely and slim, but still curvy and heavy in the hand. Slightly shorter than Pavel and much lighter, she handles like a dream. I brought her to class, and several of the new guys really took to her. I think she might be getting some cousins soon, the way they were sizing her up. One of the New Kids seems to like her too, as she keeps disappearing before I can grab her when we're getting ready to drill during practice. I can't blame him- the balance is awesome, and she feels much better to me than the Ensifers the Professor had. (Though the new Ensifer long is very nice too, and it came in blue, which has me a bit envious.) I think I've come to favor the waisted grip, and she feels very much like the Pavel.

After this past weekend though, I may have become a convert. Apparently, I have a touch of the size queen in me. The Professor got a new toy for us at practice this week: a new montante blunt. She's gorgeous- taller than me, a lot thinner, and far deadlier. I should be jealous probably, but if I could ever manage to tame her, we could beat the stuffing out of anyone. Mr. Montante & his Ninja Turtle pal delivered her and guest-taught the class this week. It's always fascinating listening to people talking about things that excite them, and you can hear the love for the art in every word that the guys spoke. Most of the words themselves were just flying past my head, names of Italians and Spaniards and tons of other terms that just whizzed past me ears making funny buzzing sounds, but Mr. Montante's enthusiasm was palpable as he taught us about fending off more than one attacker.

It was really neat actually- we learned new footwork (sort of) of three different varieties, and we learned circle cuts, which are essential for getting people to back the heck off so you can smite them properly when wielding the gigantic whirling blade of death. We learned about stable turns, passing in reverse, and cross steps, as used vs. multiple opponents, keeping yourself protected the whole time. But much like the opposite of what happens when I take the truck to the garage and the mechanic finds nothing wrong, I could do the turns and cuts fine on my own when nobody was watching, but the second I had to do it in front of everyone, it all fell apart. This time I think it was the Ninja Turtle that was despairing of me, though he was patient and tried to walk me through the steps and turns. I go too fast, swing too far, and don't get my arms up high enough for the circle cut to be effective. You're supposed to have your sword covering your back when you circle, but I can't seem to get the sword angle vertical enough. Sadly, I absolutely don't have room in the house to practice the circle cuts, so have to wait until the weather's better before I get to try that one again.

We even got to put the multiple opponents thing to work at the end of class with a battle royale melee and a game called Thermopylae. The battle royale showed everyone just how different you have to think vs. more than one opponent- people were getting poked left and right, and nobody lasted very long. Ezio especially was catching folks with their backs turned and stabbing them right in the tush. Harness was waiting until people were distracted, then would catch them off guard, which seemed to work pretty well. Some of the new guys were seeming to forget about there being more than one opponent, though they did well too. The Professor played the last round and managed to trounce everyone of course, but it was fun to watch. For the last game, half the folks were Spartans, half were playing Persian, and one set had to try and fend off the others. Once we 'died' we were resurrected for the other side. Lack of equipment had me sitting out the first part, but I found a lone arming sword simulator that someone had brought and managed to get into the last few games. We were on the defending end twice, which I guess made us the Spartans. After we were slaughtered the first time, the Professor coached us a bit and had us try a rotating triangle defense. I'm not sure that worked much better, but somehow I managed to survive- probably because I was to the side back of the rotation. I'd thought I was out, but the Professor said it was an incidental contact.My fellow Spartans headed over to join the Persian army. So somehow only I was left to defend Greece.

The cheese stood alone... a feta worse than death for one who lacked all confidence in her swordly skills. I looked down at my pathetic little one-handed arming sword, then at the mad Persian forces bearing down on me. I remembered Mr. Montante's teaching about the circle cuts and gave it a whirl, my blade ripping through the air, laying waste to all before me, scattering foes like grain! I gave a fearsome growl, and determined I would not apologize! Sparta would prevail!

Well... that's the way it went in my mind, anyway. Kinda not what happened, really. I got crushed. My growl of fury was more of a squeak. I tagged maybe two guys with sad little slices. Nothing really got wasted. Sadly, an arming sword is not a montante. It's not nearly so intimidating, and only makes stupid tiny ringlets of minor ouchiness, not lovely giant circles of death and destruction. And with all the other swords crashing in on me, I think I actually hit myself with it. Besides, we already knew how that story was going to end. But hey, what did he expect? I'm Irish, not Greek.

Week 36 - The Bugs Bunny Play

Going to two classes weekly is kicking my tail... but in a good way, I guess. Except that my back aches halfway through the regular one. It's been awesome, actually. I've been going to the beginner class, which is giving me the chance to reinforce basics and providing another set of explanations about how and why we do things the way they do. The first time around, the reasoning was all different. This time, the Professor seems to be explaining things a bit more. Maybe having to teach me helped him figure out how to simplify things. Then there was the part of class called "Lefties Give Everyone Problems," in which I had to do the plays with several people, so they could all have the experience of fighting the solo obnoxious one in the group. I'm getting better at trying stuff from both sides, which is good, I guess. 

Still Wallerstein-ing. Oberhaus to scales, scales parried aside, pommel strikes to the face... I'm really bad at that one. It's that hitting people thing again. I can't help apologizing, which gets me whacked every time. Anyway, it was a lot of scales to hangen, scales to pflug, oberlauffen at some point, a bunch of others... I need to just go look these things up so I have a reference. I've got the wiktenauer as my home page at work now, which threw off the tech lady when she borrowed my computer for a demo. I guess we've done nine different plays or so. I have to admit my favorite was one of the last we learned- I'm calling it the Bugs Bunny play.

It's one of those Wallerstein plays, plate 11 says the Professor. If I remember rightly, it starts off with one going into the scales, winding high, then sort of bullrushing forward the second the other guy tries to do anything. The raised arms end up pushing the other guy's sword behind his head and you kind of just mow him down. I'd been paired with the Professor for this set of plays, so when he did the rush forward, he thankfully stopped short of sending me to the floor, but ended up with his arms around me and my own sword far out of the way where it could do no damage. I tend to panic in these bullrush-y moments, as happened at Longpoint when I tried to turn into a turtle with Odin. This time though, I had a total Bugs Bunny moment. You remember in Bugs' cartoons, when he'd get into some kind of trouble with Porky Pig or Yosemite Sam, end up right close to them, and then grab them by the ears and plant a great big smacking kiss right on their surprised faces? Ya, that was me. Totally wasn't thinking anything sketchy, honest, but that was my immediate reaction. I turned to the Professor, but he apparently was reading my mind, because he kinda growled "don't you dare!" and let go. I tried to stifle my laughs, but ended up choking on them instead. My new favorite play. Definitely.

Week 34 & 35 - Pepperoni or Supreme?

I'd been having withdrawal symptoms. I haven't written in ages, but I'm not slacking, honestly! I just haven't been able to play for weeks! It's been awful. First it was the week of Christmas, and I was on party-duty during practice, so I missed that week. New Guy saw me looking forlornly out the window at everybody practicing at one point, and sent me a sympathetic look, but the boys all stayed outside to play. (It worked out though, because we got all the party stuffs set up and had a lovely time after practice.) The practice after Christmas, I drove back from visiting family so that I'd make it in time for practice... only for the Professor to end practice early that day. Missed another. Then two weeks ago, I made it a bit early, only to find that nobody was there. We'd apparently gotten indoor quarters for winter (YAY! no more frozen nose & toes), but nobody'd thought to mention it to me until I got there. Grr. So I headed over to the new place, but practice had already started and I couldn't get hold of anyone to come open the door. After 20 minutes of standing around in the cold wind, I gave up and went to the movie theatre next door. (That new "Night at the Museum" movie is cute, by the way.)

But finally, I got to practice again. And cripes, the new people! We have got to start renaming these people, because I think we're up to New Guy to the 6th power or something. Anyway, the Professor posted the group on MeetUp around Christmas time, and we've been getting new folk every week since. First was one of the high school kids Deadpool's been substitute teaching for, then came another, and another. Another too, I think. And one came last week to check us out too. I'm collectively calling them the 'New Kids in the Ochs' until we find better names. The Scout came first the week of the party too- a visitor checking out the scene for himself and his pal. I got to talk to him briefly in between bouts of setting up for the party. He brought a friend, who is Mr. Enthusiasm all over. Then there's the fellow with the magnificent Moustache. And another girl too! Though she missed last week due to work. We actually had so many newbies that the Professor had to split the class. Now we have two, beginners in the early afternoon, intermediates just after that. We've got barely enough swords for everyone in the beginner group, but some are so gung-ho that they've already ordered their own feders or bought their own synthetics, so that problem won't last.

We've been doing plays from the Codex Wallerstein since Christmas. I asked why all the different books, and was told it's all about having options, apparently. We learn the individual pieces, then use them in applications and different plays so that we'll have a repertoire to pull from when we need them. Or to show off in those paired forms competitions that unnerve me so. We learn all the basics (Liechtenauer), then can fancy them up with the Wallersteins and Psuedo-Peters and even spice it with Meyerish stuff. Like pizza. The base is all the same, but the way you put it together can make all the difference, can even make it seem like something entirely new. Unfortunately, I like my pizzas relatively plain. This doesn't bode well for my fighting technique.

Demo Day- Help, help! I'm being impressed!

Apologies, apologies. I really am falling behind with this thing, but I'm catching up today. I kept it up for the better part of a year, which is more than I've ever been able to keep any kind of journal-ish thing going, so that's an accomplishment. The last few weeks have been crazy busy, and I imagine the next few will be too, but I'll try to keep up. After the birthday bash was the demo at school, then Thanksgiving, the book fair at school, assorted craziness, and another birthday gauntlet, this time for Ezio, who's apparently been renamed "Stretch." And so many new guys too! We had ex-new guy, who's thankfully become Harnisfechten, then New Guy, New New Guy, and then Sunday, New New New Guy and New New New New Guy too. They will all be renamed shortly.

DEMO DAY!
I managed to convince my principal that a demonstration of sword fighting would be a good introduction for our 5th graders to this big Global Awareness Technology Project that they'll have to do. The idea of the project is that they have to study some piece of the past and illustrate how it still impacts us today. The book fair this fall had a Medieval theme too, so it seemed a perfect excuse to do a sword demo :)

I gave the Professor a copy of the project outline, and he put together a great presentation detailing the impact of swords back in the day until today. The kids loved it- history, castles and their defense, mathematics of sword construction, the impact of and on armor, even Batman & Iron Man got mentions, along with dancing and games too. The teachers were impressed as well, and more than one mentioned how much they enjoyed the language and literary terms that came from swordplay of different sorts. I was a little bummed that I didn't get to play too, but county regs said that "staff were discouraged from participating," so I got to run the PowerPoint. Woohoo. But it was cool- he brought in the mathematics behind longsword construction, pulled in the superheroes to explain about armor's maneuverability, and had a section on girls in combat- which brought a chorus of "YES!"s from the teachers in the audience. (Weeks after, I had trivia questions about the Middle Ages during our book fair, and most of the girls remembered everything the Professor said after that point.)

After delivering the background via lecture, the Professor and the guys broke out the swords. He had the guys fight Hollywood style to get the kids all riled up with great acting and fake grunting by Mr. Piccolo, New Guy, and Riceball. Then the Professor asked if they'd like to see how a real sword fight would go. The kids erupted into cheers and hoots. The Professor took the sword, turned, vorschlag-ed Riceball, and took a bow. WHOA! echoed across the audience. It was cute. He explained then about how the fight was about ending it quickly, and the rest being a lot of "if/then" situations. Cutting demo was next, with the Professor making short work of the tatami mat, slicing and dicing every which way. Best part? One oberhau sent a chunk of tatami skittering across the floor into a chatty bunch of girls who are regular pains in the... anyway, it sent them shrieking and scattering out of the way. It was awesome. Meanwhile, New Guy was narrating- "it slices, it dices, it makes julienne fries!" The pieces that went sailing near the kids were passed around, and when the Professor mentioned that the idea of the tatami was that it was the same thickness as a human neck, more than one pair of eyes looked shocked as hands went up to throats. He spoke a bit about the importance of footwork, had the guys all line up with swords and take a passing step, then a cross step, then a shuffle step, doing a little mini-flow drill. Then he had them drop the swords and do the same thing. Then he had the guys all turn to a partner, hold hands, and do it again. Laughs galore from the little ones and nods of understanding from the adults came when they realized the steps were the same basic steps of a folk dance. It was kind of cool to see it demonstrated so simply- I know I've mentioned before how it looks like dancing when I see some fighters fight.

Clink. Clank. Clink. Eyes went wide and delighted smiles and whispers rippled through the audience when Harnessfechten walked in. I can't imagine a bigger surprise for some of these kids. Some of my kids are big into the Middle Ages anyway, and I thought Ike & Zackaria were going to have heart attacks right there in the audience, they were so excited. At every question the Professor asked, their hands shot into the air. (Zack actually apparently nailed the girl in front of him on accident, I found out later.) Harness did a brief talk on his armor, talking about different developments, the need for change based on developing weaponry, the changes it demanded in fighting, how it actually weighed less than modern soldiers carry, and more. He and the Professor did a brief demo, with the Professor unable to do much damage because of all the plate. One of the kids asked about the fauld on Harness' kit, so Riceball got to pretend to be Harness' noble steed so that the kids could see what the fauld covered while mounted.

The talk continued, with the Professor pausing now and again; here to have Mr. Piccolo do a demonstration of quarterstaff, at another point for a sword and buckler show from New Guy and Riceball, then finally for a 'real' modern battle between Riceball and the Professor. They both got geared up in gambesons and masks, grabbed the feders, and went at it. When they'd been showing off a bit before, I'd heard a couple of the girls in one class talking about how they thought Riceball was cute. When he'd been playing horse for Harness, they were all "awwww"ing. Naturally then, when the fight began they started chanting his name, "ohhhh"ing when he got trounced in the end, but cheering for him all the while. Riceball has a fanclub. Of 5th grade girls. It was kind of adorable.

Overall, the demo was a huge hit, and I heard gripes for weeks afterward that I didn't invite everyone to the assembly. (With so much history, I figured the little guys wouldn't have been able to sit through it. But they all saw Harness walking through the halls, and were envious.) I've got half a dozen kids wanting to do something about the middle ages for their Global Awareness project, had requests from at least a dozen for books on knights, and have elicited awe from most of the 5th grade that I do this stuff too. The teachers seemed to really enjoy it too, which was great. The technology teacher was fascinated by the idioms the Professor mentioned, and loved all the wordplay. One of the history teachers caught me in the hall and said "All I can say is WOW." As one of the only male teachers- who hadn't wanted to come in the first place- put it, "Help, help! I'm being impressed!"

I'd say the day was a success :D

Week 33 - Bunny Bashing

I tried to dodge it, to convince the Professor that my birthday beatings could wait until after the demo, but he didn't buy it. So he invited everyone to the 2nd Annual Great Bunny Bash for practice that week. After a brief review of the vier versetzens, I had to gear up in my new jacket (which seemed way too tight still, but which the Professor assured me would be fine) and face off against everyone in class. Boy that gambeson takes some getting used to. I felt more like a robot in that than in my homemade blue one, but at least I didn't have to fit the arm guards over it, and my gloves fit better without the too-long sleeves of my blue one. And it is rather sharp-looking. Not blue, but still.

So I geared up and faced off vs. Deadpool first in my birthday gauntlet. One minute match for each year. At least it was better than last year, when I had to fight a 3-point match for every year. I'm thinking having to split it over two weeks due to my advanced age brought about the new system. I was all for the new version. I do like the free-sparring, but I tend to get hung up on "I want to try X!," waiting for that chance, and then missing everything else. So Deadpool came first. Then Ezio (who may be renamed Groot or Stretch if the Professor has his way). We had a visitor too, but he just watched this time. Then Riceball. Then back to Deadpool. Deadpool? I'd just fought him, and we had two more guys at practice. They'd vanished though, so I cycled through the guys, then the Professor would take a turn beating me too. I got in several good shots, which was nice. I apologized several times too- I got in some not-so-nice shots on Ezio, who apparently stands at just the right height for my whip-arounds to catch him right in the.... Ya. Right there. Apologies! And again. And, again. Ugh, again too. Someone cracked me an excellent shot on my upper right arm, and another caught me across the left. Overall though, I think I was doing fairly well, though my glasses kept fogging up something fierce. Anyone know a fix for that? When I reached the halfway point, I got a rest. When I took off my mask, everyone laughed I was so red in the face. I'm sure I looked a sight, and was getting tired, but I was feeling well enough.

Clink. Clank. Clink. I was trying to de-fog my glasses when the sound registered, and I looked up to see Harnisfechten clanking his way over- in full gear. The Professor gave a two minute crash course on how to fight a tin can, and sent me back in. Harnis's kit is lovely, and so very cool. I admit I geeked out a bit- I've never seen much armor beyond peeking at Bill's at IGX. I was admiring the armor when suddenly it registered that I was supposed to fight that. And I didn't have a can opener. And I kinda hadn't really been listening well when the Professor was explaining. So when the minute began, there in uffish thought I stood, contemplating my options- of which there weren't many. The Professor said to get his arms up, but that required lifting mine. Given that my jacket was still tight enough in the shoulders to prohibit that and that my arms felt like jello anyway, that wasn't happening. I tried though. I got in a lovely solid nothing against the side of Harnis's neck, and another against the shoulder. He kindly gave me tips on his field of vision and showed me the weak places in the armor, but it didn't help much.

Totally different mindset fighting a guy in armor- it was fascinatingly, annoyingly, frustratingly fruitless, that match. The other guys cycled back in, adding in New Guy and another round with Harniss. Someone caught me a magnificent blow to the shoulder, and Deadpool (I think) had a fabulous thrust that caught me right in the face. Up against Harnis again, I had more useless shots that landed with resounding failure on the plate. The Professor yelled out something about aiming for the chain, but I couldn't see well enough to even tell where that was. Stupid foggy glasses really do become a problem, and it was getting dark too, so I probably shouldn't really claim any skill was involved. But I finally managed to land one good, solid shot vs. Harnis. I was getting tired, and was feeling useless against the armor. The attacks from above weren't doing squat since I couldn't raise my arms with the stiff gambeson, so I figured I'd try from below- a streichen that did indeed bypass the plate armor... only to remind Harnis that he should've been wearing ALL his protection. At my apology for that one, the Professor took his sword and whacked me with a "STOP APOLOGIZING!" Ack! Sorry.

The fighting went on. And on. And on. It's kind of all blurred together into one big fog- or maybe that was just my glasses. Thirty nine minutes of fighting, with a break for the introduction of harnisfechten and another at one point for something or another. The last fight finally came, and they gave me the option for counted blows. "SURE!" I said. Ya, I definitely was not thinking clearly at that point. I'm getting tired, it's dark, and I can't see... please let's do the one where we hit each other as much as possible. The Professor was my last opponent. I scored a hit that knocked the occiptal protector off his mask. Then there were... many hits. Mostly his. A rather stellar thrust to the face. Then he paused, and I hit back some, worn out and not caring to the point I just kept throwing shots, whatever I could get. A few final thwacks from him and it was over. And there was much rejoicing.

I'd made it! I hadn't gotten hit too much, and I was still upright and functional. I wasn't completely exhausted either, which was a bonus. More stamina than the guys half my age who did their birthday gauntlets a few months ago, YES! Oh frabjous day! Callooh! callay! Yay for the old lady. lol. It took a minute to peel myself out of the jacket, and I have to admit that by the end, I have no idea if it had loosened up or not, but I'd quit caring, so I guess that was good. We moved on to cutting after that, trying out the tatamis for the first time. They feel VERY different than the pool noodles. On one hand, so much easier! They actually hold still for you to cut, which is nice. And they're solid, so that you get that "OFF WITH HIS HEAD" feeling. I mean, you could. If you were that sort. Not that I get that way very often. I mean, they don't give or bend over like the pool noodles. On the other hand, if you are the least bit off, you know exactly when it goes funny, and you can see it in the cut and when your sword stops its forward momentum. It's really neat though. There's just something really satisfying about sending those things flying. And if I'm mumbling "the vorpal blade went snicker-snack" when I'm slicing and dicing, who's to know?

I may have been at that 'stop moving and I'll fall asleep' stage afterward, so I tried to keep myself busy putting equipment away and throwing stuff into the truck for the demo at school the next day. Somehow while I was doing that, the Professor and his sneaky family set up a surprise in the garage for me- in like the thirty seconds between trips to the car. When I went in for the next load of stuff, everyone was there with birthday wishes and cake and pizza... it was wonderful. I admit I got a bit misty- I haven't had a birthday cake in years. Pizza, hugs, friends, the puppies there to celebrate too. Lots of Deadpools and lovely decorations, and my very own fechtbuch from the Professor! I'm officially allowed to take notes during class now :D

A few days later, the bruises showed up- only got nailed four times, which isn't too bad at all for so much fighting. A few of those were in the arms, which means I've got to guard better- but at least they were on both sides, so apparently I'm not favoring one of the other any more. One nasty bruise showed up on my shoulder, but I couldn't tell you who put it there. And I had matching waffle marks on my forehead (NOT devil horns, Professor!) from where I got caught with thrusts to the mask. The Professor told me I had done well overall, especially as I got tired. Apparently when I get worn out, my technique improves. When I stop thinking, I do better. And I also forget to say "sorry" when I hit someone, which he says is a good thing. And I stop pausing after each shot, following with second intent, or third or more. So what does all that mean for my fencing? I'm not entirely sure, but I think it means I need to start sleep-fighting. So next event, if you see someone sleepwalking down the hall with a sword in hand, just nudge her back to bed. That'll be me, just psyching myself up for the next match.