It all started with Friday night’s Transylvanian Ball—a production of the new Masque and Ball Society; a sister organization to the Oregon Regency Society. I hurried out of work, and rushed to meet SII and Tessa to dress; which we did in record time. The girls were so funny… they had me laughing all the while.
Stephanie II teased my hair up into a massive dome of craziness, upon which we fastened a little crow. I had my unfinished corset (bottom is still unbound), an underskirt, a bustle skirt, and a velour shirt underneath to have the benefit of sleeves and some modesty in the cleavage department. Tessa wore the gown I made for her (so pretty), and Stephanie II wore a really nice gown made up of other pieces, which included a Renaissance bodice, a bridesmaid’s gown, and a lace overlay that bustled up nicely.
The ball was a lovely experience. The venue was cozy and intimate, and the group a wild mix of Goths and waltzers. Laura did a lovely job with it. I waltzed (badly) at the beginning with a few gentlemen, however I had a few costume malfunctions (which seems to be a trend for me)… the worse of which was the dropping of my underskirts in the front so that for a brief moment, my underwear and fishnets were visible to all. I grabbed it up and ran laughing to the bathroom, and fell on the loveseat in there in mirth, and Stephanie II in all her kindness took a flattering picture…
Stephanie and Tessa were working some sort of photo shoot session that endured the entire evening and were camera-crazy. Here’s one of my favourite pictures of the night—I call it the Cloverleaf of Cleavage. Teehee! Such pretty girls. I’m old in my specs, like a den-mother.
I got home at one AM, and realized the following: 1) I had no idea how I was going to get out of said costume… and 2) my dogs, who I’d left uncrated because of my late arrival, had chewed (it was probably only Simon, Flower is not a chewer, but I have no video evidence) a gaping hole into my down pillow, making my bed look like it had been placed outside in a mid-winter storm in the alps. I managed to resolve both issues, even without loading Simon into a rocket and shooting him into the sun.
The next morning, with lingering, stubborn remnants of makeup and false-eyelash adhesive still clinging to my eyes, I rushed out of the house mid-breakfast when the Horse folks called to tell me they were at Government Camp. I ran to the ATM to get them transportation money… and just as I was pulling out onto 26, the trailer came whooshing by, the owner’s wife waving her arm at me to follow.
Tag was led off the trailer to a completely unfamiliar world. He has been primarily a pasture horse, with little to no barn experience at all. When he pulled up; this busy barn that will now be his home for the time being, people came out of the barn to see the newcomer, and there was much activity. Tag was a bit keyed up. He hesitated entering the cavernous barn, and was unsettled that day. When I brought my husband to meet him after picking him up at the airport, Tag refused to come in from the pasture, and hubby had to wait until the next day to meet him.
Sunday, I went out to breaky with hubby and then took a moment to be awed by the leaf of a big-leaf maple. Every year, I never cease to be amazed.
At noon, dogs in tow, hubby and I returned to the barn just in time to bear witness to some really juicy barn-drama. Tag, who was thankfully in his stall, was happy to let me halter him and lead him to the grooming area. Flower was instantly in love with the newest member of our family and she sat up like a little meercat and licked his muzzle. Simon just barked frantically, tried to eat random dung-apples and dug holes. Before our arrival, a boarder with four horses was trying to take her horses from the barn without paying for her back-board. The owner interfered, and the boarder hit the owner with a halter, cutting her on the bridge of her brow pretty badly. When we arrived, there were cops! Wow. Drama! Then, the people with the horses were apparently complete morons, and were unable to load two of their badly trained horses, and the two and a half hours I spent grooming and fussing over my new baby, there were loose horses galloping around, shouts, and at one point, which almost caused me to get involved and punch someone in the head, the woman was whipping one of the horses in the face…. ::::grrrrrrrrrrrr::::
Luckily, they managed to get the fourth horse in and drive out of there before any of us lost patience, put our respective horses away and interfered… I was new there and I was ready to get into a throw-down with that woman for whipping horse in the face. I shouted at her, and that was bad enough. “Yeah, that’s really smart, whipping them is *really* gonna calm then down you *&$%^! moron!” was that rude? Oh, oops. Sorry. I cannot abide people who insist on owning horses they cannot handle and that they are afraid of. I was waiting for something hideous to happen and some horse to really get hurt (no, I had no concern about those idiot people getting hurt… I’m all for natural selection); the noise in the trailer and the total craziness was really a recipe for disaster. They are REALLY lucky nothing did. Stupid idiots.
Tag was flustered by the chaos at first, but the profusion of delicious carrots, pets, kisses, brushes and fussies was enough to calm him down despite all the negative energy flowing around the place. Surely after that trial by fire, he’ll be okay. I was assured this sort of drama never happens and that most of the time it’s pretty low key… I hope so, because I don’t like people who are mean to horses or any animal, and I am not the kind to stand idly by. ANYWAY…
We stopped at the Eagle Creek Feed for the heck of it, and I discovered they had toy rat terrier puppies… OMG!!! Snugglefest! Oatmeal breath and pink-bellies aplenty! It was hard not to make off with two little squiggly lumps under our shirts.
I bought myself some rubber boots for mucking about the stable. Aren’t they cute? And some treats and a salt lick of our new baby.
I’m going tonight to see that Tag’s okay and to move some more of my tack into the stable. I found out Sunday exactly how much stuff I still have in my tack boxes! WOW! Five bridles alone! Two doubles, one Havana one black for my dressage équipe… So many bits, I had to ebay some last night (they’re all WAY too small for Tag anyway)… and lots of other odds and ends. I spent most of Sunday night oiling it up again. They were extremely well preserved despite the storage in the attic, not a mote of mold. Amazing.
Anyway, that was my crazy weekend. ;)
Hubby’s home… Tag’s home. All is good.