Book fair was this week, with my Family Night event after school. It's not really worth it to drive all the way home and back, so I just stay through. It makes for a really long day, but it's our biggest fundraiser. Anyway, I cleaned up after the teachers and got everything ready for the customers, only to find that I still had an hour to kill, even after harassing the Professor for a bit. My volunteers weren't back yet, so I thought I could sort of get in some practice while I had the place to myself. The week's been insanely busy so I haven't had time to practice with the new sword, but we have these giant hand pointer things- they were a little longer than the yardstick I'd used before, so figured it'd be fine. I did find out quite quickly though that mariachi music (book fair has a fiesta theme) just isn't quite right for practicing drills.
There's a decent sized bit of open space right in front of the checkout table, so I started playing around with my flow drills, wielding my handy pointer-sword, slicing four cuts along one axis, doing the pretty ribbon cuts otherJake had us practice, zwerching my way around the library. Then I reviewed my durchwechselns, trying to get the pointy finger tip to circle the little stuffed "Pete the Cat" toys we're selling, then poking him in the nose and changing through to punch a hole in his chest. I stuck him on a pile of books and practiced thrusts, trying to knock him off his perch. I set him back on a shelf and scheitelhau-ed him several times. (I really can't stand Pete the Cat.) The point control on the pointy finger stick actually wasn't too bad, and I managed to pop Pete in the eye half a dozen times. Flush with success, I tossed Pete onto a nearby table and figured I'd practice my footwork too, since mine still rots. I tossed my cute strappy pumps behind the desk and started trying to triangle step out with each move, being sure to have good position when I finished the strike. After about ten minutes of what felt like waltzing around the library, I was finally starting to get it. I think.
I'd been throwing myself into a series of krumphaus punctuated with an occasional zwerch and the twitchy underhanded strike that I suddenly can't remember the name of but probably sounds like a sneeze, when an extremely loud "whoa, awesome!" sounded from behind me. One of my little darlings had wandered in with his dad, and they caught me playing. Apparently to a six year old, it looked impressive enough. It would've been fine normally, but in the complete silence of the library and on the upswing of the twitchy shot, it proved to be quite startling. Startling enough, in fact, to allow the smooth purple handle of my pointing stick to fly from my grasp and sail across two book cases, only to smack into one of the beautiful picture books on display on the table. I'd been so pleased with that display; the books all positioned just so to display their colorful covers, lined up perfectly... rather like dominoes. I watched in horror as the book teetered, fell off the box it had been sitting on and bumped into another book, which keeled over backwards and crashed into the next, prompting that one to careen into the one after, which pushed the next one down, to knock into the one after that... all the way down the entire length of two cafeteria tables. After what seemed like ages watching my beautiful display crumbling before my eyes, finally the last book fell- only to land right at the feet... of Pete the Cat.
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