When I first started pursuing costuming in earnest, I could barely find any events for costumers in my area, at least, not if you didn’t want to be a re-enactor.
I gradually started discovering events, like this one in Troy, NY, for steampunk folks.
But I always seemed to find out about the events days after they happened, and I knew I’d never be ready in time for the couple of other costume/masquerade-type of events I discovered locally ahead of time.
Then, I found not one but TWO Victorian strolls near our house scheduled within a week of each other in December.
My dad introduced us to Star Wars early on in our house. We watched the original films over and over as kids, and when we got older, religiously went to see the subsequent movies (We still do!).
I went to a midnight showing of one movie. Since it was actually at midnight, I have no idea which movie it was, because I dozed through parts of it. (I checked with my brother, who was with me that night and is a better historian when it comes to Star Wars movie watching. The episode I dozed through was Revenge of the Sith. I was a young single mom of a two-year-old who was still getting me up at night when that movie came out. I did watch it again later with my eyes open).
I’ve passed down my interest in Star Wars to the kids, although the franchise and its size have started to alienate me a little. It’s not the same, special thing it was when I was a kid, with a limited number of movies to enjoy. Someday there will be so many subplots and new characters that I won’t have any idea who half of them are (that may already have happened, as indicated above).
Two knows I’m a nerd, and she handed me Don’t Cosplay with My Heart, by Cecil Castellucci, after she’d read and enjoyed it. She’d read the “good parts” to Three along the way and thought I would like it, too.
Like her sister, 10 year-old Three lets me know when she reads a book she likes and wants to recommend, but she shares fewer books – although the number may increase as she sees me reading her picks. One of her recent and rare recommendations was Ghost Boys, by Jewell Parker Rhodes.
It was late in the day and I had just given myself permission not to do an evening meditation when Three knocked at my door.
She asked if we could do a meditation together.
This past spring, I posted about our forlorn backyard. The space was characterized by packed dirt and scattered scrap metal. It was well into spring, I thought. I was sure that was as good as it got.
