Velella
2004-05-30 8:40 p.m.

Wow. After reading Blooeye's diary, I feel so decadent. All I did today was sleep. My ravelled sleeve of care really needed work. (That's Shakespeare, y'all. Look it up!)

Yesterday, we did not go to Sapphire Joust. Getting garb and stuff together and going to Richmond was too much for my little brain to handle.

Instead, we went to a Memorial Day cookout in honor of our Chilean dojo-friend Ector, who just got his PhD in oceanography. Our host was dapper Asian Larry, another dojo guy. I expected the usual dojo-guy bachelor pad. I should have known Larry was different when nearly every woman in the dojo told me, "No, Larry's house is niiiice."

So, we drove to Gloucester, out in the country, to the bluffs on the York River. Larry's beautiful, spacious old house is perched amid carpetlike lawn, boxwoods, and tall pines. We had a crystal-clear, eighty degree day and a gorgeous view westward. Larry seemed determined to feed all of us into oblivion, and the company was outstanding.

Part of the fun for me was getting to spend time with my pal Velella (her choice of pseudonym; it's a jelyfish thing) and her hubby Tiller. They're two of my favorite dojo denizens. Vel is the most dolphin-like human I know, just brimming over with merry good cheer all the time. We had great fun wondering who Ector would be "spawning" with next (he's a chick magnet; it's the accent), teasing our husbands, and babbling mostly incoherently. Sitting on the bluff watching fireworks (supplied by our hubbies and buddies on the dock below) after sunset (another fireworks display), we educated Ector about online fan fiction (although he never understood slash), the allure of men with accents, and other womanly topics. He was mostly baffled, poor boy. He did teach us how they say "fuck" in Chile. Something to do with "eggs-in the testicle sense." Whew.

There were other lovely conversations as well, with many of our dear dojo family. We missed our SCA family, but it was a magical day. Tonight's magic: we saw a fox right outside at dusk! Casey thought he was a cat, but he was too fleet, graceful, and wary to be a kitty. He melted into the brush, but he was lovely. Suburban fox spirits. Very Japanese.

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