...oh, life is bigger/ It's bigger than you/ And you are not me/ The lengths that I will go to/ The distance in your eyes/ Oh no, I've said too much....
He slinks down the stairs and opens his arms for a cuddle.
"Morning, Mama. Did Hilby come last night?"
Yes, he did. And guess what he brought?
Hilby arrives with, as is his wont, an additional human. Three of them, actually. Last weekend, it was Karl, who was a surprise, but this weekend it’s Karl’s girlfriend, Hilby’s girlfriend, and- hooray!- Martin. Yes, fans, Lurk haunts the site of the Maryland Renaissance Festival again.
The forecast is much more dire than the actual weather. On Saturday, more than 20,000 patrons are undiscouraged. Sunday somewhat less so, but apparantly it was pouring in northern Anne Arundel county, so there you go. It’s not about whether it will rain, it’s about whether the patrons THINK it will rain. Makes bribing the forecasters an appealing idea.
Saturday is gorgeous, perfect, breezy enough that the white costumes flow and billow. A film crew loves us. We’re not sure who they are or why they’re here. That Girl, who would know, suspects a college project. A couple, armed with serious cameras, follows us around.
"They’re the best thing in this whole place."
No. Really? How nice of you. Shoot us anytime.
It’s Adventure Weekend, and pirates abound. The Bee Folks encourage patrons to holler Arrrgh and throw cheap plastic necklaces from their balcony. Note to self: check out their new fragrance; they promised in Pennsylvania that they were debuting a new hand cream fragrance in Maryland.
Jaki, our organist, accepts hugs, and refuses questions about her health. Will I lose her next? I hate to wonder, but life is short, and those who grace it do not always grace it for long.
Isabelle Glass, whose products have moved me to drool since Artscape 05, is here as a guest vendor. Mimi and Gigi lust after fancy silver and glass necklaces. Hawk gives permission for obscene expenditure, which (booyah!) is write-offable. We walk away adorned and shiny.
Though we break the 2K mark, the lines are amazingly short. Even at the privies. The longest line? The ATM. Go, you lovely patrons. Buy stuff. Booyah.
After work, after snack, after Fluff loses track of a wooden mug that I found one year in PA and lovingly restored, Fuzzy and I get our hair braided. Four days later, we both are are still looking pretty good. Good job, Rapunzelgirls. Fuzzy still has her silk roses, even.
As planned, we eat Vietnamese with the Jasters. Fluff is adventurous and not only chooses an unfamiliar dish, he asks for it in Vietnamese. The restauranteur, taking our order, is impressed. Fuzzy wants chicken and broccoli. I eat stir-fried vegatables, which, oddly, come out the same no matter which -ese I try.
At home, I kiss my children goodnight....and goodbye, because they are rapidly becoming not my children anymore, but their own human selves apart from me, who happen to live in the same house.
I will kiss them goodbye a thousand more times, and they will never know it. I mourn the passing of their child-ness, even as I celebrate their steps to maturity. Some of you will know what I mean.
Hurry to the Faire: it's half over. Four weekends left. The weather is here, and you are beautiful. Come see Mimi.
(Losing My Religion; REM)