(Don't worry, I will try not to bore you.)
As some of you might already know, Carlos has been part of the Criminal Justice program at his local High School for the past two years. The County has a series of class tracks that they call the Academy. Mainly they offer a career path for those kids who are interested. Criminal Justice is one of them.
Since they are close to graduation now, the Academy decided to have an Awards Day (not to be confused with Graduation day), to celebrate the completion of courses, and also to recognize the most accomplished students.
Like Hogwarts, the Academy has four tracks: Criminal Justice; Firefighters and EMT; Health Related Sciences; and Practical Nurses. And, like Hogwarts' four houses, the groups have their very own personalities.
The Criminal Justice kids showed up to the ceremony in shorts or jeans and t-shirts. The Firefighters all showed up in uniform, which consisted on jeans and identical navy blue Fire Department t-shirts. The Health Related Sciences boys wore slacks, dress shoes, dress shirts and ties, while the girls wore formal dresses that were short of Prom gowns. Last but not least, the Practical Nursing kids all showed up in business casual.
"So," I tell Carlos. "When do you guys hold Court?"
But when the teacher who acted the Master of Ceremonies got stuck with the names of the kids, I could not suppress a smile. Where is a herald when you need one?
At any rate, Carlos did get an award for being the most improved on professional skills on his Criminal Justice class, and I was a very proud Mom.
On Friday we headed up for Charlottesville, which is an hour away from the Crown Tourney site. This was the most practical way to make it since trying to day-trip it was very much out of the question for various reasons.
I am happy to report that we did not run into the Falwell Effect, and did not get lost or delayed. I think the reason is that this time we spent our time on the road listening to the CD of Evil Dead, The Musical. Songs of note are "What the Fuck was That?" a Tango style opus to girls turning into zombies, and "All The Men In My Life Keep Getting Killed By Candarian Demons," a self-explanatory Do Whop masterpiece.
But I digress . . .
The Tourney was quite entertaining, as usual, and in the end the day belonged to Logan and Rowan.
All in all, a wonderful time altogether.
Sunday was not a great day. Or let me rephrase that. It was not a great costuming day.
As some of you may remember, I did order some nifty lightweight worsted green wool flannel for a fitted gown that Mathilde helped me fit. So on Sunday, I throw my wool in the wash, thinking that worsted wool flannel will not change much.
Dammit, I should have washed just a swatch instead of the whole thing and see what happens.
No, the wool did not shrink.
That means that instead of having a smooth as silk soft wool, now I had something that, while not bad, it does not look like I wanted to and will not make the kind of summerweight outfit I wanted for Sapphire. I went from milky smooth to cottage cheese.
I could weep.
To make matters worse, I spent all afternoon laying down the pattern on paper and second-guessing myself. (I think I got it right, but I will still have to ask la Mathilde some questions on this.)
Let's say that by the time ballistabob got home, I was so frustrated that I was almost in tears and swearing that I would quit costuming altogether.
Oh! The Drama!
Luckily, we ended up going to dinner at la casa de carthew, where I could see the progress she has made with the 16th Century jacquet (Maidstone style) that I designed and fit for her. It looks beautiful, and gave me some hope that yes, maybe I don't have to put my scissors and measuring tape away after all.
So I went ahead and ordered more wool. This time a blue/gray one. And this time, I'm not washing it. The green felted one will be rescued and transmogrified into a nice short-sleeved overdress for the Fall.
There may be a fitted gown in my future after all . . .