Out of the way

(well, norman really, but whatever).

I spent the Queen's Birthday Weekend in Australia. In case you're wondering, in teh state of Victoria that means the second weekend in June. I think Queen Victoria had a birthday around then - the current Queen of Australia (better known as Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II of England, or Lizzy M) was I think born in April.

Specifically, at Nordmannia's 10th birthday, celebrated at The Gathering, which is perhaps my favourite medieval event.

It's a small camping event in the cold - about 50-60 people usually, and the temperature is usually above freezing during the day and sometimes at night too. This year, unusually, it only rained for one afternoon (that's normally what keeps it warm).

Four days of hanging around in medieval gear, feeling the grass under my feet, being surrounded (unusually in Australia) by European trees with no leaves left, smelling of campfire, cooking, eating, and having fun.

We missed dafinn. We missed Kathryn. We missed the people who are still somewhere but weren't there. We raised a few to you all...

We enjoyed the food and the tavern and the weekend (I'll write about the tilting later ). Thanks Ian and Cliff for once again putting on a great weekend, MsHelle for organising the cooking, Heather and Rose and Fathma and Ants and Bex and Rags and Linc and Wok and Jeff and Katherine and Josh and Tommy and everyone else who helped out doing stuff.

Happy birfday Normans.

In latin, senex meant "old man". My creeping senility shouldn't automatically be associated with losing marbles. I turned 36 recently - not yet an old man, but no longer a young one. (I can be legally excluded from various dating services in Australia, who cut off at 35, and can't go on a Kon-tiki meet-market singles cruise for the same reason. So there are some blessings )

My Granny, who is in her 90s, is not well, having been quite sprightly until recently. I thought that she would no longer be with us last weekend, and was glad to be in Australia and able to see her. She is still in hospital, and at any time her condition can only be described as unstable. I can't predict the future any more than the next person - she may get better, and live to be 105, or 125. She may not. It depends on many things, including whether she really wants to.

Perhaps all of these things are twice my current lifetime away from me. Perhaps not. We lose people from time to time. An ex-colleague passed away very recently, somewhat unexpectedly and apparently peacefully, at an age between Granny's and mine, leaving a number of people dealing with their first experience of losing a colleague at work. Others have dealt with it many times over.

Life is a gift. The lives of those who pass through our own, and our own life, are a short time we have. But if I could, as Woody Allen said, achieve immortality not through my work, but by not dying, would I? I don't know. Every new day is a gift, and people are precious in part because you never know how long they will be there. (In larger part, the people who are really precious to me are so because of the particular person they are...)

So how should I be passing my days? How should I note the accumulating years? I guess I will finish my life, some time, having left undone things I wanted to do and things I really should have done. There are times when I should have stopped, looked around, sat down in the grass and done nothing, instead of obsessively reading mail (or writing my blog ) or running off on some very-important-at-the-time errand or crusade. There are other times when I should have got off my backside and done something.

I didn't make it to see Granny in hospital today. I hope she's OK. I'll go see her tomorrow. She doesn't want to be there. I don't like being in hospital either.

Happy birthday to me. I guess Timboctou was out of the question this year. Still. I get to go to the Gathering, and do some cooking. That will be fun (and a little cold in medieval clothes). If I see you somewhere, ask and I might bake you a cake In the meantime it is one of those moments when I should do something. Make dinner, in particular.

I get a lot of email. Occasionally I get real mail - a letter or card that isn't a bill, and I love it. Unfortunately I am a terrible correspondent, so I only get a bit more than I deserve...

But last night I put on my mail - the armour that I made over a long time. I took my "object designed to represent a sword in theatrical and educational reconstructions of medieval times", and spear, (well, object designed...) and shield, and went to training.

I'm not a complete slob. I don't mind physical exercise as such. I don't like gyms because I get bored, and the same goes for running, normally. As my reader would be aware (oh, my readers - both I like swimming, when I get around to it. Which seems odd, since I just go up and down, up and down. I don't quite understand myself.

But for a long time my main form of exercise has been practising medieval style fighting - sword, shield, spear, armour, and so on. Living in Norway I don't really do it much, but the group that I helped found 10 years ago is still going, and when they are training and I am in Melbourne I try not to miss it.

It feels good. Hard work, skill and motor control, controlled agression, teamwork. All the things that make a sport. Plus 20 or so kg of weight, by the time I add a training shield and sword (slightly heavier than most originals, since the edges are thicker). It is like riding a bicycle. You don't forget, but you do get rusty. Being basically a careful kind of fighter, I enjoy feeling the control come back. After nearly two decades there are a lot of reflexes that have slowed with disuse, but not gone away completely, and there is a great feeling as they slowly start twitching again.

Although I won a few times, I lost quite a lot. I'm also not as fit as I used to be when I trained week in week out, so didn't last nearly as long as I once would have.

It's not winning or losing, it's how much fun it is to play. I had a fantastic time, and came out hot, sweaty, sore, tired, and smiling from ear to ear.