ren fest purchase

Guess what!!
A) my life has gone and gotten complicated and now I have a social life (stupid social life) but it'll be short lived because next month is November and everything will be sacrificed for writing. Which is a lie, it just means sleep will be sacrificed and I'll write at work. (pobre work, but they should give me more to do on a more consistent basis if they want me to be effective. Not needing to be effective, I am less than they think to require. sillies.)

B) Went to the ren fest yesterday (Yes, it's a festival in maryland. Had a discussion with matt about how it is a faire and everything, but the sign says festival. stupid signage.) The maryland fest is HUGE, a farmer has been converting extra wooded land into ren habitat over the years. Want an idea how big? We spent an HOUR in line waiting to turn left onto the street of the parking entrance and we were only contending with part of the DC visitors. (Karen, Bryan and co came from the opposite direction, turning right, and didn't have as long of a wait, but still a significant one. But it hadn't been like that previously! Not ever)

Okay, that's not the interesting part. (Of the many interesting parts. We'd raspberry wine, made from only raspberry's. good stuff. Also, mead. Also, cream stout, into which I later poured some mead. Oh, and I made a disgusting mix, prior, of octoberfest and blueraspberry snow cone. It turned green and I threw it out. In all fairness, I sorta knew it was a bad idea when I tried it but I was tired of carrying around the snow cone.)

Drinking habits aside. We looked at a painter's gallery (of which there are many) and saw a don quixote print, which I thought was lovely and desired (I'm trying to decorate my abode). However, not only didn't I want to carry it around, I have that rule that I have to come back if I want something. In retrospect, that rule didn't really apply here, because the print was small and only $15. I spent as much when I bought Matt the 'double' mead (that and wine are served in half glasses, beer in full) and myself the cream stout. (Which the bartender/wench found funny, because we had our mugs and she was ready to give me the mead but I wanted the dark beer and he the honey wine, and then I paid. So take THAT, gender roles. ...  this has nothing to do with the painting story.)

At the end of the day, when we went back to the shop, all the don quiote prints were gone. I asked at the desk and they flipped through the prints as well but, sadly, none continued to be found. She pointed out the actual painting (for $400) and I said, of course I want it but I can't  afford half that much. It was very sad. Then I dithered about and looked at the other prints (they'd some very nice dragon ones), convincing myself I should not be sad but buy something else, but really staring sadly at the painting. Then the shop owner asked if I was really was willing to pay $200.

After protesting that it was much too little (and shutting up my brain that had been ready to spend a little money for something small instead of a lot of money for something awesome), I did buy the painting, complete with frame. (Take that, stupid money-worrying brain. Good frames can be more than expensive all by themselves, and I got it all together! Properly done and everything, and they told me how to care for it but, other than that I need a feather duster because of the way dust will settle on the frame, I remember nothing. I was so, so drunk and happy.) The artist was there as well and they talked about people making a bee line to the shop (which we had, and had seen the painter in the window seat, though we'd not known who he was at the time), and sending them to a good home, and that they can set the price because they own it. (They also told me that they, and most places, will hold onto purchases so they needn't be carried, to which I replied that I would probably leave without them. They said it didn't happen often, but occasional someone would return the next morning to pick up what they'd forgotten. Granted, these are probably several hundred dollars someone just spent, so they'd probably remember.) I gave everyone a hug and was stupendously happy as we left, and then I listened to the organ for the last few minutes, (sitting with my amazing painting, which was wrapped) and he played the adam's family. On the organ. We all snapped and clapped.

In all, a lovely day, and I shall hang the painting this afternoon, when I am less worried about disturbing people. (Most everyone has today off, it's a federal holiday and so no one in dc works.)

The end. (of my attention span. adios!)