Sim crossing into a full parcel

The Prim and Proper store near my home in Tamrannoch has been transformed into a stables, selling sleighs and hackney carts drawn by draft horses. Naturally, I had to have one, and I’ve been taking it out for driving lessons. Pretty pictures will have to wait for later. In the meantime:

That’s the cart.

And that’s me and the Percheron.

And this is how it first started, before the horse and I became separated from the cart. You can see Caledon Victoria City there, far below us. (Linked to 800 pixel wide version.)

Family tragedy

With heavy heart I report that I have become head of House Heidrun, through the death of all senior members in a terrible molasses flood. This brings to me responsibility for the ancestral property in Caledon Highlands, and I know not what else. My cousin Mr Paderborn and I are the only known surviving members of the clan, although I shall ever be on the lookout for other distant relatives and retainers.

I have never concerned myself with the family business of mead-making, and of course now all of our facilities have been destroyed. Oh, that Great-Uncle Oskrr had not hazarded the experiment of substituting molasses for honey! The only thing recovered from the accident was a single beehive. There is still a terrible mess of congealing molasses at the plant; who knows what yet may be salvaged, or indeed, if House Heidrun should ever again produce the healthful and invigorating draughts for which it has ever been known!

Beauty amongst silliness

Mr Mordecai Scaggs reports on the Secret Miranda Society, which was a very silly, and very fun, impromptu happening last Sunday. Mr Scaggs has a number of good photos showing the early progression of the experience. But he goes on to share, “At the height of this silliness there were 30 of us, resplendent in our full Miranda regalia, raving in sync to medieval lute music, much to the amusement of onlookers. This was one of the times I have felt most part of Caledonian society, to be part of such spontaneous tomfoolery is something I shall treasure. My Aspergers means I always feel apart from other people. . .”

Aspergers is not a mental illness, nor is there a cure. It is a physiological condition, present from birth, where the neurons in the brain are wired to follow very different pathways than in the “normal” person. Thus it is something I have to live with.

Go read the whole thing. And there you will see beauty amongst the silliness.

It’s all done for charity

Caledon’s SLRFL team held a Renaissance Faire this weekend in Caledon Carntaigh. I was delighted to be able to attend on Sunday, buying an assortment of outfits from the vendors, trying out the catapult, and even taking a turn in the stocks, just to give others a reason to purchase tomatoes. At some point, those assembled began dancing, and well, one thing led to another:

Here’s a closer shot of yours truly:

By later in the evening, the crowd had easily tripled, and all manner of accoutrements had been added to the general costume. At one point Her Grace, the Duchess of Carntaigh herself dropped by, taking a break from her Gen X radio duties. (We were wonderfully entertained by her 80s program as we danced.)

And, of course, [shhh!] there was the formation of a secret society.

Knitting for Caledon’s troops

In the war against cancer, Caledon’s troops will need warm socks and mufflers, so I will be hosting a fundraising knitting circle on Friday, April 13, 6-9 pm SLT/PDT in Caledon Tamrannoch. Ida Keen has very graciously created knitting needles that will, upon sustained use, produce wearable, transferable clothing. Put it on your calendars or come by later and pick up a set of needles for yourself.