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Repentance oft before I swore
Sunday, 11 December 2005 05:56 pmEvery time I cook an SCA feast, I totter out the other end exhausted, stressed, aching and with swollen feet, swearing I'll never do it again. Until the next time I volunteer. I enjoy the cooking, really I do, but I tend to forget in between how much of a physical toll it takes on me. I suspect it must be a bit like childbirth: memory draws a tactful veil over the experience, of necessity, otherwise the human race would cease to exist* and SCA types would never get fed. To assist the process of blissful forgettery this time round, Lara has promised me her unused foot spa. Also, I didn't over-cater by my usual factor of 1.5 this time: I spent just under budget and had a little food left, not too much. She can be taught. Eventually.
The event was otherwise good, further comment being unnecessary except to note that, damn, our Shire can make more obscene comments per square inch out of the Yule gift game** than one would have believed humanly possible. Noted perps included jo(ty) and, more surprisingly, Simon. Fun was, however, had by all.
I am somewhat under the weather this weekend, with a mad tendency to nausea every time I get into a car. Annoying, although I suppose all things considered, 'tis the season for excess of bile. Further motivation could be found in this week's Mail & Guardian, which has a metric buttload of bad environmental news, including Kyoto Accord summit reports (nothing doing), warnings of increased earthquake risk in East and Central Africa, and news of a possible asteroid collision 30 years down the line. What most nauseated me, however, was the reminder of the existence of emissions control trading, a happy little offshoot of capitalism in which first-world countries unwilling to reduce their pollution levels can instead pay for emissions-control projects in developing nations. I am stunned, floored and horrified by the incredible ostrich-nature of contemporary society: if they're not actually being flooded, drought-struck or blown away right at this very instant, the problem clearly doesn't exist and can be staved off with token gestures. Above all, apparently, thou shalt not threaten the profit margins, or even think about anything sensible like drastic population limitation. Oh, and the Amazon is on fire. This wouldn't happen if we were all orang-utans.
* Not, in my book, necessarily a bad thing.
** That fun one where everyone contributes a small gift, preferably gaudily and attractively wrapped; guests go by numbers drawn from a hat, and can either take a gift from the table or steal one off someone who already has one. Pleasantly inclined to reveal the worst aspect of human nature, in keeping with the spirit of Christmas.
The event was otherwise good, further comment being unnecessary except to note that, damn, our Shire can make more obscene comments per square inch out of the Yule gift game** than one would have believed humanly possible. Noted perps included jo(ty) and, more surprisingly, Simon. Fun was, however, had by all.
I am somewhat under the weather this weekend, with a mad tendency to nausea every time I get into a car. Annoying, although I suppose all things considered, 'tis the season for excess of bile. Further motivation could be found in this week's Mail & Guardian, which has a metric buttload of bad environmental news, including Kyoto Accord summit reports (nothing doing), warnings of increased earthquake risk in East and Central Africa, and news of a possible asteroid collision 30 years down the line. What most nauseated me, however, was the reminder of the existence of emissions control trading, a happy little offshoot of capitalism in which first-world countries unwilling to reduce their pollution levels can instead pay for emissions-control projects in developing nations. I am stunned, floored and horrified by the incredible ostrich-nature of contemporary society: if they're not actually being flooded, drought-struck or blown away right at this very instant, the problem clearly doesn't exist and can be staved off with token gestures. Above all, apparently, thou shalt not threaten the profit margins, or even think about anything sensible like drastic population limitation. Oh, and the Amazon is on fire. This wouldn't happen if we were all orang-utans.
* Not, in my book, necessarily a bad thing.
** That fun one where everyone contributes a small gift, preferably gaudily and attractively wrapped; guests go by numbers drawn from a hat, and can either take a gift from the table or steal one off someone who already has one. Pleasantly inclined to reveal the worst aspect of human nature, in keeping with the spirit of Christmas.
