Well, I am one of the LOSERS who missed Saturday due to the weather forecast.  I went Sunday, though, and 'twas GLORIOUS.  Never seen better weather at Bristol!  I caught Wit of Will (Scottish Play) and Bounding Main's 5:30 show, and enjoyed both thoroughly.  It was especially fun to see Bounding Main, as one of the performers went to high school with me and summer camp with my hubby.  The poor fellow had no voice, but his way of compensating (invilving a gag and chalkboards) enhanced the comedic aspect of the show greatly.  I also spent time with my brother-in-law, met visiting Wenches from Ohio, and hung out with good friends.  Huzzah!

 

Oh, I posted a couple new pics, too.  Lookit mah belleh!!!

The weather was glorious, and it was fantastic to see everyone!!  The first day was a bit nerve-wracking garb-wise...being pregnant makes wearing a belt kinda difficult, and I didn't know where to hang things!  i also felt, well, kinda moosey, especially compared to last year.  But I figured out the garb issues and had a great time.  I'm definitely going to have to take it easier this year, but I plan to be at Bristol all I possibly can.

 

BTW, I am due to have a baby boy November 2!  =-)

I posted a bunch more pics of Bristol and Stronghold 2007.  Enjoy!

What a fantastic season.  I met wonderful new people, and strengthened the bonds of friendship with many I have known for a while.  I'll be uploading new pictures over the next few days! 

 

Thanks to everyone who, in his or her own way, made this season special!  :-)

 

 

Christophe responded to my poem in his guest book. Sweet Lord, what a funny, evil man!

 

Risa:

I thank you for your rhyming words.
It seems you are the first
To write a poem on this site;
I wish it were the worst
I could expect to hear, but now
you will be imitated
by those (alas) whose metric skills
are quite self-overrated.
Soon there will be limericks,
a broke-dick villanelle,
and something like a sonnet
if it were composed in hell.
A retard down in Grapevine
will, with shit upon a towel,
rhyme about the time he
accidently fucked an owl;
this will, of course, be typed and sent
in by the loving wife
whose tooth he chipped when he
attacked her with a butter-knife.
So, thank you for the poem
you clever little whore;
but all the rest of you, please note
I don’t want any more.