I sang what I had this weekend for valr , bdeb , and syrjustus . They liked it.

bdeb's response was along the lines of "another depressing Calontir song."

I still have a couple of verses to pound into shape, but will give you the chorus:

Chorus: This God-guarded city has stood through the ages
....Preserving Rome's glory and preaching Christ's works.
...She's followed the wisdom of saints and of sages.
...But I'm cursed by cruel Fortune to see her fall to the Turks.

Tomorrow I drive 947 miles. Then 200 in Wednesday.

I do not know if I have written a better text.

Prowess be thy chorus, O Muse, Memory's daughter,
As you sing the song of Agamemnon.
Not he, war leader of all the Achaeans,
Who sailed with fleet of thousand prows
To bring home his brother's wife
And down the fabled walls of Ilion;
But from line equal in nobility to Atreus'
The Platylithodae, who from ancestral home
Took their name and spread its glory through the Heartland.
He, Agamemnon, who would greet rosy-fingered Dawn
Clad in helmet of boar's tusks and seven layered oxhide shield
And dance with cruel Ares and ever-wise Athena
Until Helios' chariot fled to western home.
Whenever hoplites gathered, purple chlamys-wearing,
He of Flatrock's line would be in the forefront;
Just as when a pack of wolves hunting stag swift of foot
Is led by one cunning of plan and brave in struggle,
So has the Falcon-marked phalanx heeded his war-calls.
Many bold war-foes, when his sharp pointed spear
Or flesh-rending sword drank deep of their blood wells
Saw his wide smile as their armor clattered about them,
And they fell enbittered, tasting the dry dust.
Seeing all this, golden haired Hirsh, Heartland King,
And Magdalena, learned in Athena's peaceful Arts,
Added to the burdens and duties of Agamemnon,
By creating him also a labrypheros basilei,
Or Huscarl of the Iren-Hirth,
As spoken by the barbaroi who dwell in Zephyr's home.
The was done on the twenty-first day of the month

Of harvest time's Thanksgiving in the forty-fourth year
Since heroes once again took up the ancient weapons,
Where Wyverns fly above Calontir's Scamander.

H M
R R

Thanks valr .

Your suggestion on the Calon list may bear fruit.
Last weekend I started work on a song putatively sung by Constantine XI as he was arming for the final charge against the Turks on May 29, 1453.

He recounts the history of the City and curses his luck that he is the one to see the City fall to the Turks.

You may get to hear it this weekend.

The Getty is so good that 4 hours was not nearly enough time. So tomorrow, we go to Disneyland, so thatwe can go back to the Getty next Monday.

The fact that we just saw Zombieland and are going to Disneyland is sheer coincidence.

We are having lunch at Gladstone's in Malibu, looking forward to great seafood, while seagulls wander among us. Then on to the Getty Villa, to see the Roman stuff. Tommorrow the Garment District in the morning and the LA County Museum for more Roman stuff.

lunch was fabulous: NE chowder, cajun fish tacos for me, Cobb seafood salad for her.

Not only was her plane supposed to get in at 11:30 pm.
Not only was her plane half am hour late.
Not only was she the last one off the plane. But we were in line behind some one paying for parking with quarters.

On Sunday morning at 8 am I was in Chicago. Today at 3 pm local time, I reached Los Angeles. I followed the modern version of the Mother Road, with a minor detour to Fayetteville for a night with snailstchr, and a morning repacking the truck. That was 17 hours not driving, plus 5 hours sleeping in Flagstaff, Az (where it was 24 degrees) .
Tonight I treat myself to a night's sleep in a motel.

Throughout the nineteen realms is cast a pall,
In shires and barons' lands a grievous wail.
All noble hears break at Kolfinna's fall.
Three weeks ago she was so strong and hail.
Though Fortune's Wheel did spread our homes by miles
And kept our joyous meetings' number few,
I treasure each encounter's happy smiles
And thank the Fates I knew a Peer so true.
But she was one who ran life as a race.
With vigor did she seek the newest task
It was not hers to stick to laggard's pace
Sweet kindness was her core, not venal mask.

We mourn the warrior, cut down in her prime,
But know she made the best of too-short time.

Farewell, Kolfinna.

For when a warrior's gone, if you do sing her song, truly the warrior never dies.

For the first time in 30 years or so I am attending a Cubs game at Wrigley. Middle second, Cubs 3, Pirates 0. It main rain. I have always said that being a lifelong Cubs fan has been the perfect preparation for being a Calontir bard.

I arrived home from my trip out east yesterday at 1:15, and went straight to "Taco Tuesday", a weekly lunch with snailstichr, viviana_rowe, and others.  I proposed to snailstichr that we endulge in "Savor the Flavor", a walking tour of Restaurants on Dickson Street to benefit some lovely charity or another.  (OK, I know it is Faith in Action, but I was not doing it for the charity, but for the food...)

http://www.wregional.com/body.cfm?id=249#locations

Twenty restaurants in four hours.  Pacing was important.  It was much like an SCA feast.  Don't bloat yourself with bread early (Ken Therriot notwithstanding).

We skipped one, Jimmy John's subs.  Nothing against them, but at more than halfway through the gauntlet, we were waddling enough to need more bread.

Highlights:
  We enjoyed the red pepper soup and hummus at Smiling Jack's Fresh Food, where we had never been.
  Theo's had wonderful slow roasted pork shoulder, and basil martinis.
  The Smoke and Barrel Tavern is a whiskey bar.  We were to get a tasting of three whiskeys each.  Knowing nothing of whiskey, we told the bartender to educate us.  He did a good job with the four pours, showing us a variety of flavors.  We gained an appreciation for the nuance of whiskey, and can appreciate how there is a slice of people who spend their lives in pursuit of the best whiskey, even if we are not the ones to go on that quest.  I may need to take her father there when he next visits.
  Bordino's did Creme Brulee served in a Jewelry store.  Richness in richness.
  Powerhouse:  Lobster Bisque, Crab Rolls, Shrimp and Crab and Artichoke Dip.  Yum
  Teatro Scarpino:  Our first visit back since our wedding.  Gelatto.  Wonderful memories.
 
Disappointments:
   Gullet's Gourmet  a chicken and hot sauce dip was a bit too hot to be appealing.
   US Pizza:  As the last one on the loop, which we got to minutes before the end of the tour, had cold pizza.
  Railhead Saloon: We preferred the space as a Spanish Tapas Bar.

Thursday morning I leave on the start of a two-weekend trip, covering Atlantian Coronation then Trimaris Coronation (with family time in Blaxburg during the week).

I could write it all out, but here is the short list:  (Each text color represents a single trip)

August 29  Coronation, Atlantia
August 30         Freer Sackler Gallery, at Smithsonian, with Treasures of the Czars exhibit
August 31- Sept 3  Family time with Mom, brother and his wife, and 3 nephews and niece
Sept 4 -6    Coronation, Trimaris
Sept 7         Home              3331 miles
Sept 12        King's Companie of Archers (mainly for Lilies Committee meeting)  528 miles
Sept 19     Calontir Coronation, Lost Moor  My squire brother will become King.  My knight will be there.  587 miles
Sept 25-27  Meridies Grand Tournament
Sept 28-Oct 2  Chicago, visiting with my other brother and mother
October 3   Midrealm 40th anniversary 
October 4-6 Driving to LA
Oct 7- 11  Great Western War 
October 8  pick up snailstichr at airport
October 12 -13  LosAngeles, including probably Getty Museum, as well as garment district
October 14-15  Sacramento, for snailstichr  's sister and family
October 16 San Francisco    open for museum suggestions  We hope to eat at the Stinking Rose: A Garlic Restaurant
October 17  Principality of the Mists Coronet Tourney  I hope they will let me peddle my trim.
October 18  Visit friends in San Francisco
October 19  Back down to LA and DisneyLand: drop snailstichr  at airport
October 20-21  drive home  6166 miles
October 22  Riverdance
October 24  uncertain, but perhaps Bryn Gwlad in Ansteorra or Midwifery Mayhem in Calontir
October 31 uncertain, but perhaps Samhain in Gleann Abhainn, while dropping snailstichr  at aspats 
November 7  Grimfells Renaissance.  It's not Blood of Heroes.   However the truck and trim are going to Ansteorran Coronation with the charming shop girl.
November 14 Crown Tournament, Trimaris
                       week with the family
November 21 Holiday Faire, Atlantia
November 22 perhaps Thanksgiving with family, then drive home   3199 miles
November 28  weekend at home
December 5  Boar's Head, Northshield  1450 miles
December 12  Kris Kinder, Calontir 500 miles
December 19-20  Midwinter, Outlands  1540 miles

So that is 17301 miles between now and Christmas, not counting the uncertain events.

That is Steven G. Boyd of Slidell, LA.

I got another phone call from a credit card company, asking me to pay his debts. I was able to supply them with his middle initial and hometown, because I knew that already. You see, this is the fourth or fifth call that I have received from various credit card companies. One even called my mother in Virginia.

As one who is scrupulous about paying off my credit card balances each cycle (interest is something you earn, not something you pay) I am ticked when I have to deal with this.

But I suppose it is good that they are trying to find him and squeeze the money out of him, the actual debtor.

On Monday morning at Pennsic, as the army gathered at the Royal Pavilion to head to the field for the first time, His Majesty held up a Falcon tabard. These were His words, as well as I can remember them:

This is the War Tabard of Master Mikal the Ram. It was sent with us that it might
again be worn by a member of the Calon Host. We could think of no one more
fitting to wear it than Master Andrixos.

I fell to my knees in shock and honor. As Their Majesties removed my standard tabard and replaced it with Mikal’s, I asked if I could also bear the honor of carrying Master Chidiock’s scutum into battle. They agreed that it would be fitting and proper.

Master Hugh Prescott had brought Chidiock’s scutum, and gladly entrusted it to me. As I led the army in song on the march to the field, I felt two voices added to mine.

I have fought in over three hundred battles in the Falcon Host. The battles of that day will endure in my memory.

On Monday evening I spoke to Their Majesties, and They agreed to my plan. Tuesday morning, as we gathered at the Pavilion, I spoke to the Falcon Host:

Yesterday, I was greatly honored to wear Mikal’s Tabard. But song in Calontir is not sung as a solo, but in chorus. It is right and proper that today, this Tabard be worn by the one whose voice has led us in song so often. I would ask that Sir Erich Hlodewechssun wear the Tabard today.

As it turned out, I was not able to take the field on Tuesday, but Ruaidhri ua Ceallaigh bore Chidiock’s Scutum.

Thursday, before the Woods Battle, I spoke again:

As he sings with the Falcon’s voice, and fills our hearts with cheer, I would ask
that Conde Fernando wear Mikal’s Tabard.

And Friday, before the final battles:

Not just in song, but also in poetry, is the Heartland nourished. Rhodri ap Hywel,
please wear the Tabard of Mikal the Ram.

I rejoined the army on the field, fighting again with Chidiock’s Scutum.

At the end of the War, I asked Her Majesty if I was to keep the tabard. She replied that there was no specific plan. I suggest that I keep it, and bring it to future wars, giving it, for a day to other voices of the land in song and poetry.

Master Hugh and I spoke about Chidiock’s scutum. He has agreed to maintain it and bring it to wars. I will endeavor to fight with it at least once each war. I do these things to honor my friends.

A picture of me wearing Mikal’s Tabard, supporting Chidiock’s Scutum, was
taken by Liam.

My gauntlets and helm (minus its welded chain drape) were found at a water bearer's tent and turned in to Battlefield Lost and Found. The camail had been cut off. My helm basically visited a chop shop. I lost the most generic, most easily replaced part. May the thief choke on it.

Some time between Monday evening and this morning my Titanium gauntlets, made by Sir Andrew Ward, and my custom Byzantine helm, made by Duke Tristram, were stolen from the Calontir shade fly on the battlefield at Pennsic. Estimated retail value is $1700.
But that is only part of it due to the fact that Andrew can no longer make the titanium gauntlets.

If any of my friends can post pictures of my helm, or better, a picture of me wearing it, it might help recover it if it were to make it onto Ebay or somesuch.
I will also hope someone can get the notice onto the Armor Archive.

Description: Gauntlets are Andy's current pattern, perhaps visible at www.wardmetal.com The cuff edges are rolled and roped. The right hand finger plate has a noticeable dimple, a bullet "proof mark", from a .22 long rifle. Its coridng is a mix of white leather thong and black para cord.

The helm is a Byzantine style extensively embellished. The main body of the helm is mild steel. The band between the upper dome and lower curtain is stainless, engailed on the upper edge, with 6 stainless discs riveted with brass, as "pearls". The front "joint" of the coronet is covered with an added piece of metal, though I can't remember whether itis brass or stainless. At the top of the helm is a 1 inch ball welded to a 4 pointed star, attached with brass rivets. On the left and right sides of the dome are single piece brass "Christograms", Chi-Rhos, or XPs conjoined. There are also 6 copper blood drops, between the pearls. the entirety of the curtain and most of the horizontal oriented bar grill are covered by a welded chainmail drape, made by Master Knut. The main dome had suffered some rust, but this had mostly been polished out, though theleft side still had some work to do.

I hope to get them back. I have already lost 25% of my war fighting. I hope to not miss more.

Safe at Pennsic, my 28th. By the end of the war I will have spent a year of my life at Cooper's Lake

It has been 2 wars without vehicular issues. My streak could not last.

A trailer tire suffered tread separation, and that bit of tread whipped the heck out of the fender. Dropped trailer, drove to Walmart for tools, removed fender, replaced tire, and just now replaced burnt out fuse that kept tail lights from working. Low drama, but I will not make it to war until morning.

I rented out the unit that had been unoccupied since March, and unpaid for since December.
The cash flow will help quite a bit, as I am no longer carrying the utilities on the place either.

Now, when I get back from Pennsic, I will build the storage unit in the backyard of our place, and then move the trim out of the unit next door.

Then finances will be in line.

The last song that I wrote was almost seven years ago.  It was a piece in praise of Calontir's Waterbearers, and by extension, the Waterbearers throughout the Knowne World.  It may be viewed at Katriana's site:
http://www.calonsong.org/CalontirSongs/waterbearers-drx.htm

It struck me that my next song topic was ordained.  I needed to give equal, and equally deserved, praise to the Calontir Soup Kitchen.  For decades they have provided us with nourishment after battle, causing us to spend our after-battle hours in communal lolling about in the Royal Pavillion.  This time shared, by both novice and greybeard, is one of the building-blocks of Calontir's culture.

I came up with the first line.  "This cup of gold broth is our army's Communion."  Then I was stuck.  I realized I had written something powerful and true, requiring the rest of the song to match the intensity.  It only took another five years or so to finish.  I worked on lines, images, phrases.  Various scraps of paper and restaurant placemats attest to a number of false starts. 

On the way to Lilies, I turned off the radio, and started to work.  All the brewing that had occured in my head over the past years caused the verses to flow out quickly.  It took less fewer than 150 miles to complete.

At site, I contacted akitrom  , who had previously agreed to help produce a four part choral arrangement.
He transcribed the melody, and then passed it on to Lady Kasha.  The manuscript of the arrangement was then entrusted to Lady Miriam Gabrielis, who took time from her war to convert the arrangement into a machine readable form.  All that remained for me was a trip to the Abbey of the Monks of Saint Kinkos to get copies of the music into the hands of a choir that was convened each day at noon.  They rehearsed my piece and presented it Friday night before the fireworks. 

Mathurin recorded the piece and has posted it at :
http://calonsound.info/archives/2009/06/entry_176.php

Already the song has been well accepted, and even in its "bardic setting" (where I, as a bass/baritone, sing the melody) multiple harmonies are developing.  I am thrilled with this.

My thanks to all who helped bring the song thusfar, but more importantly, my thanks to the Soup Kitchen.

You have restored my strength time after time. 
You have provided a chance for shieldbrothers and spearsisters to regale each others with tales of the glory gained. 
The anticipation of your waiting delicacies make the march home a triumphal procession, regardless of the results on the field.
You have made the Calontir Army the envy of the Known World.
You have made my shoulder companions true companions, in the ancient sense of "those with whom one shares bread". 

While it is only right that I name Finola, the genetrix of the Soup Kitchen and Mother of the Army, it is to honor all who work for the benefit of the Falcon Host that I wrote this song.
 


                     Hymn for the Soup Kitchen
                      ---Andrixos Seljukroctonis


Three times through year's cycle we take pilgrim's journey
To warfields made holy by our grandfathers' deeds.
Not for ransoms, nor glory, nor the thrill of the tourney,
While Crusading we follow where the Calon Cross leads.

            Chorus:
           This cup of gold broth is our army's Communion,
           Shared with sword brother after fighting fierce foe.
           This Falcon's Cathedral is Our Royal Pavilion,
           Where we gather hymn-singing as to war's fray we go.

Good biscuits sustain us; the host of our warhost,
As we gather for Matins, roused by trumpet's harsh tone.
We prepare for war's high Mass, that office we love most.
No one wearing a Falcon shall worship alone.

Some are kneeling as prayerful, beneath fresh raised altar
The bishops behind them with croziers held high.
With strong faith in each other we let no brother falter.
And rich off'rings brought forward bring a tear to our eye.

With the service concluded, we share greatest treasure.
Sermons are preached on the deeds of dear friends.
The fellowship's joys are a wealth beyond measure.
We thank now Finola and the soup that she sends.