Vote, dammit.

So, I just got my 6^th election-related call in the last 3 ½ hours. This one had a real human on the other end and she told me she was calling to remind me to vote tomorrow.

“Really?” I said. “You’re the 6^th call I’ve had since 4:30. Do you think I live under a rock? Do you really think I’m dumb enough to NOT know it’s election day tomorrow?”

“Umm …”

“And seriously.  If I was stupid enough to NOT know tomorrow was election day, would you really want me voting?”

“Whatever.”

:::Click:::

Hurricane Prep

So what do you do before a hurricane? You play proctologist with the storm drain in your driveway so the garage doesn’t flood, and you practice shooting zombies.

Sweet Daughter and I stopped in our new gun (and only!) gun store in town  last week. They're still ramping up, but we bought some ammo and SD picked out some targets as we had planned on meeting up with Shorter Half over the weekend to do some shooting.

That is a black cat on her forehead from a "Harvest Party" at school.

Unbeknownst to SD, SH is, um, a bit put off by roaches. The target she chose for him was a giant zombie roach. When all was said and done, I think SH put every round he had with him through that target.

 

I was given a pretty standard issue zombie. SH wanted me to try his AR -- that thing has so much stuff dripping off of it, it took me a minute to figure out where the magazine went. It was the first time I’d shot anything with a scope – and wow. That was easy. I put the crosshairs in the center of his forehead and let fly. Since we were rather close, the first shot was a little low. I walked it up to what looked like the center of his forehead and went to town. I tried to get my sights back on target as quickly as possible, and kept firing. I’d estimate I was getting a round off every two seconds.

 Here’s what I find interesting – I was aiming for “center of mass” as it related to his skull, not realizing I was high and over to the left. This is because I didn’t notice the “hair”, and I subconsciously saw the mask as good guy, and avoided it.

 

Sweet Daughter had her Crickett and decided not to use the bi-pod this time, firing it from the shoulder. When all was said and done, all 40 shots ended up on the paper. She was tickled. At one point she was a bit frustrated by the chest shots. SH explained how the heart shot would have killed him, and how the shoulder shot would have disabled him. “But Daddy!” she said, “That won’t work. Everybody knows you have to shoot a zombie in the head to kill it!”

Sweet Daughter with her war face.

 Smart girl.

Photo of the habit.

I was fortunate to have run into Richard Nadeau (a real photographer!) at Colonial Williamsburg. He was kind enough to take some photos of me in my riding habit. He is in the middle of a major move, but took the time to dig out a computer so he could email me this.

 

Thanks again, Richard, and if you're reading this, I hope to see you in Williamsburg again next year!

 

The Merida Costume

Sweet Daughter has been consumed with all things “Brave” since we saw it in the theater this summer, and she decided that’s who she wanted to be for Halloween. I’d started collecting bits and pieces before I went into hyper-drive on my riding habit, so I had the teal colored velour (thanks, eBay!) and the dark brown suede shoes (thanks, eBay!) when I decided to get down to business this week.

Photo found here, the Pixar Wiki site. 

You see … there was a party last night and she wanted to go, so I had to get busy.

You know what the hardest part was? Deciding where I was willing to cut corners because it was JUST A COSTUME. Quit laughing. You know who you are.

Yes, I researched it. I looked at still shots of the movie. I zoomed in on the details trying to figure out what it was they were basing her gown on. (And, no, it couldn’t have been the fancy one, it had to be the “everyday” dress.) Now, medieval fashion is not in any way my strong point, but I could tell that there was some kind of dress over some sort of shirt/shift/chemise thing. But what to do for the gown? Then it occurred to me. I’d made this tunic for a co-worker this summer. What if I just cut it floor length? And made it with different sleeves? Then the shift-thing could poke out in the gaps, and hopefully look like the movie.

So, where to start? When in doubt, go with what you know, so I grabbed the Mill Farm shift directions that are included with their girl’s 18thcentury gown pattern and lengthened the sleeves so they’d fit over the bend of the elbow and still come down to the wrist and end in a 1” ruffle. I cut them sideways so the neat selvedge edge of the muslin (yes, cotton muslin. Go ahead, say it …) would act as the hem. I used bias tape for the casing for the elastic (I know, I’m still twitching from the experience), inserted the elastic, and sewed up the arm seams. I cut the body out of the remaining width of muslin and didn’t even bother to cut in an A-line. (I know, I was living dangerously at this point, and there was no looking back.) I measured the width from the point of shoulder to where I wanted the neckline to be, and everything in the middle got cut out for the neckline (2” deep in back, 3” deep in front). I added a ruffle of some pre-pleated ruffle thing found at our local Micro-Walmart (had I been thinking, I would have cut the shift 1 1/4” narrower, and used the selvedge from the other side), some more bias tape and elastic, and I had a neck casing. Add sleeve gussets, sleeves and hem, and done in 90 minutes.

 

For the gown, I started with a mock-up. I measured her chest and waist, and the distance from her waist, up over her shoulder, and down her back to her … waist. I cut a piece of scrap fabric out that long and folded it in half. I added some width for ease and seam allowance, and cut an A-line shape along those measurements and sewed up the sides, leaving room for the armholes. I cut a + just big enough for her head to poke through, and tried it on over the shift. I pinned the shoulder seam, drew where the armholes should be, and marked the neckline. I also fit the sleeve pieces that were cut to her arm measurements (plus seam allowance). I marked the hem, and the shape of the upper sleeve, and then went to work on the teal velour.

 

I bought two yards off of eBay – they were already cut, when meant the gown wasn’t going to be any longer than about 36”. Luckily, that was just about right so SD could run around without tripping. I cut the main panels from two rectangles of fabric, and then transferred the shaping from the mock-up. From the remaining fabric, I cut 4 triangular gores, making sure the nap on the triangles went the same way as the gown. I cut a slit up the center of the front and back rectangles, and inserted a gore in each one, and one on each side.

Center front gore

Then I finished the rest of the side seams, hemmed the armholes and neckline, and had SD try it on. To say she was happy with it was an understatement.

How I love eBay!

The sleeve pieces I cut without any ease, as the velour had some stretch, and I wanted them to stay in place. I sewed some 1” wide tubes out of the scraps and used those to connect the sleeves together and attached them to the gown.

A friend of SD’s had bought a Merida costume which actually came with a wig. Since the friend already had perfectly long, curly red hair, she gave SD the wig. Add leather shoes, and a bow and arrow left over from her birthday party and she was all set.

 

Add a cape made from a yard of gray fleece cut into a half circle and you're ready for the cold.

 

The Uber Project

About two years ago, I got the crazy idea of making an 18^th century woman’s riding habit. Not just any habit, but one based on a regimental uniform as seen worn by Lady Worsley and Mrs. John Montressor. I started collecting the bits and pieces needed, and in June I got started. I debuted it this past weekend in Williamsburg. Unfortunately, I don’t have many pictures as we’re not supposed to be seen with a camera in our hand while in 18^th century clothing. I’m hoping to get more pictures, but this will have to do for now.

Sweet Daughter looks sad because she had just shut a very heavy door on two of her fingers. We've got it wrapped in ice.

 

I did have a brief “Oh … crap” moment while on my way to the Commander’s Meeting on Saturday morning. You see, we turned our coats for “Prelude to Victory” that weekend, and were portraying Continentals and I was wearing red. Bright, screaming, lobster-back red. But you know what? Not one single person asked me why all weekend. Not only that, the Continental Guard posted on the Wythe House came to “present arms” not once, but twice when I walked by. It must have been the epaulettes. Or something. Because (1) I was a woman, and therefore could not possibly have rank, and (2) I was in a red. Even his Excellency, General Washington (and his staff) took note of me and gave a polite nod in passing.

I call that a win.

 

While strolling around town, I had a brief squee moment when I ran into Lauren from The American Duchess. I don’t spend as much time on the costume blogs, but I recognized her from a tutorial she did on hedgehog hairstyles. I believe I blurted out “HEY! You have a BLOG!” Classy, no? Anyhow, she looked fantastic, and was very polite as we compared notes on seaming techniques. And I seriously covet her silk stockings.

 

Musket BOLO

I know this isn't an area of expertise for the majority who stop by here (myself included), but while poking around your local funshows, please be on the lookout for two muskets stolen from east Tennessee in mid-September.

The first is a Japanese 42” barrel reproduction Brown Bess, with black sling, repaired crack in wrist, missing side plate, and missing bayonet lug – it’s been well used for over 30 years.

The second is a 36” .62 barrel officer's fusil, with curly maple stock, black sling, and St. Andrew device in lieu of escutcheon plate, also a reproduction.

I don't know the owner of these personally, but saw the notice and thought I'd pass it along. If you have any information, please contact Paul Pace at paullaurapace@bellsouth.net.

 

I've requested pictures, and will post them if they are available.

Guess who I met?

I heard that Larry Corriea was going to be at Ft. Belvoir signing books today. None of my other hoplorati friends from the area could commit to going, so Sweet Daughter and I made plans to make the trip ourselves. I planned carefully – I called to make sure a civilian could get in, I programmed my Garmin, printed out back-up directions and chose my outfit carefully.  Yes. When one is meeting a New York Times best-selling author, one wants to make an impression. You know where this is going, don’t you?

I wore the werewolf shoes.

We got at the PX right at noon, and we went in. Yes, I wore the almost 6” werewolf shoes at an army post PX at lunchtime. (My inner introvert is still hiding in the closest, angsting “Why? Oh whhhhhhyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy?”) I recognized Larry right away – and who was standing there but MsgtB who said something along the lines of “It’s Nancy.”  

Okay. So he is that tall.

And Larry Freakin’ Corriea stood up, shook my hand and called me by name.  Larry Freakin’ Correia knew who I was – or at least remembered my name from Monster Hunter Alpha where I was red-shirted but didn’t die.  You know all the nice things people say about Larry? They’re not exaggerating. And it’s clear that he adores his family. He showed us pictures and shared stories. He signed books, he signed a red shirt for me, he took dozens of pictures. He even signed this.

This is MsgtB’s hoplorati hat. I know that I’ll catch hell for outing him as a thoughtful and decent guy, but he had Larry sign his hat for me, as he didn’t know if I’d be able to make it  to the signing or not. Damned nice of him, even if he did mention in the very same breath that I be handing over my hoplorati  hat to him in exchange.

Sweet Daughter hung out while we adults bored her nigh unto distraction, but she was very well behaved. Larry even commented on it and mentioned that his 7-year-old would have been setting things on fire by this point. I have to admit, I was very conflicted. On one hand, I was quite proud of how SD was behaving. On the other, I had a brief moment of self-doubt as a parent. SD wasn’t setting things on fire. Was I doing something wrong? Was I neglecting her education in some way? I think this will make up for it.