Jun. 10th, 2006 01:13 pm
happybat: (Default)
According to the school yearbook, "You must, you must, you must... " was the phrase that my 5th and 6th year most associated with me - which is alright.

I must, I must, I must do my costume homework. I have an ever lengthening list of ideas for things for me (petticoat and blouse to go with Otte's new sari; underdress for the green linen; Fret II; leather/fur bodice for Mara if I go back to LT...) as well as random things I would like to make for other people (black slashed leather doublet with velvet lace-on sleeves; late medieval fitted cote with half  circle cloak; fey huntsman's outfit; really well fitting linen shirts...) and one or two outstanding commissions (mainly, C17th/C18th suit in white wool with heavy embroidery - which MUST be done by September but also a little bit of barbarian kit)

So, a resolution. By Sunday evening, I will have finished the design for the C18th suit (plus the design for the embroidery) and have it ready to show the client - with prices. I will also have finished the barbarian waistcoat thingy - which is just a run around the edges with a suitable embroidery stitch and the sticking on of various patches and scraps. I've said I will, so now I have to. 

*goes off, looking resolute*
happybat: (Default)
Just back from the first CP event of the year; notable for an enjoyable battle, some very good company... and rain with the most malicious sense of timing. It is important for the future to keep in mind, though, that bardic pursuits and an excess of fruit wine do not sit particularly well together...

On another note, this poem has been haunting me for the past week - which is odd, because it's not really that kind of poem. Still, there is a little twist of bitterness there that I do find I respond to...

Not only marble, but the plastic toys
From cornflake packets will outlive this rhyme
I can't immortalize you, love - our joys
Will lie unnoticed in the vault of time.
When Mrs. Thatcher has been cast in bronze
And her administration is a page
In some O-Level text-book, when the dons
Have analysed the story of our age,
When travel firms sell tours of outer space
When aeroplanes take off without a sound
And Tulse Hill has become a trendy place
And Upper Norwood's on the underground
Your beauty and my name will be forgotten -
My love is true, but all my verse is rotten

-- Wendy Cope


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