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2002-01-07 - 9:23 a.m.

A Diversity of Dragons

This weekend, at Their Twelfth Night celebration, TRM Galmr and Aryanna elevated our Kingdom Chronicler, Baroness Gwendolyn ferch Cadwaladr ap Rhys, to the order of the Pelican. This was a well deserved honor and it was my pleasure to help with the vigil and gift her with a banner and heraldic hood. A hood with little Welsh dragons marching around it.

But this is just not the story of Gwen's elevation. This is the story of a dragon named Taffy.


Once there was a little Welsh dragon. His tail was in a knot and he had a thorn in his front paw that caused him to stand on three legs. But Gwen loved the little dragon and wanted him for her own.

Gwen loved him because he was gold and looked good on her beloved purple field. But many other people loved the little Welsh dragon, so she had to divide her device with a chevron and add purple fleur-de-lys on the gold upper half. But still, not different enough to capture her dragon. So some crackhead named Kevin or Herveus suggests surrounding the beast with a counterchanged, embattled border, and, at last, her dragon is captured.


One day in October, Rabah asks Theo Would you do a banner on commission? I love heraldic display. No. But I'll do lots of things for love and personal amusement � I need a banner for Gwen. � I love Gwen. I could do that. So Theo asks Kevin for a copy of Gwen's arms. Stares at the dragon and the embattled border counterchanged across a chevron. Gulp. Okay, it can't be worse than Bera's swirly field division.

Many hours later, much help from Roland (always much help from Roland) we manage to make a dragon embroidery pattern. And refine it. And sew another test, and change the stitch pattern again �.


And then it's decided that between Kymber and I, we will make Gwen a purple cotehardie with a matching dragon hood. But not until after December Unevent. But we need purple. Roland calls me the giver of purple. I have silk. I can dye. Oh, look - it came out so well, beautiful and soft and � I'll give the fabric to Kyna when we meet for Hamlet in early December. Perfect. How smoothly this project is going�


� Till the other shoe drops. Saturday before Christmas, Kymber tracks Theo down at Mel's new place. How are you at dying to match? Cause I'm short two dress panels and the sleeves� I knew this was going too well. Math proportions tell us the loosely woven, magnificiently soft silk basically shrank from 7 yards long to 6 yards in the dye/wash. I pick up all the pieces and take them home for redying �

Damn. Dying another piece was close but not perfect. I'll try again Sunday after Christmas, after my family leaves. �


Meanwhile, Gwen spends an evening over at Kynarr's. Gwen looks longingly at Ragnarr's pride hood, hanging on the stand, admiring the lions marching around it. Maybe Theo would help me find me a Welsh dragon someday. I'd love a dragon hood. Kymber manages not to crack up.


� Serge all the dress pieces, mix up another dye bath. Hope I can overdye the new fabric and add the already done pieces to the last twenty minutes for dying to match. I've never tried anything this crazy. As I am standing in the laundry room, suddenly Roland, Alan and Gen burst through the door. Hey, Harry Potter was sold out at 2:40 pm, but we got tickets for later so you could come with. � Um, um, it take two and a half hours to dye this. I can't leave that early - unless I leave it soaking in rinse water.

We take the risk and *phew*, next morning it all comes out of the dryer the same color.


I spend News Years Eve assembling a hood. Gen comes over and learns to use the embroidery machine by starting the 'embroider dragons on the hood' project. See, I love Gwen and I can help without having to plan a project. Meanwhile, I get out my engineering drafting tools (glad that class is good for something) and draw out Gwen's banner. Adding the border changes the visual proportions and I have to rescale everything a dozen times. Cut out chevron, cut out border, chant I hate borders, oh yes I do. Gen, watching the machine embroider dragon number four on the hood: Wait till you get to the dragon.

At about this point, the machine makes a funny noise and we realize the bobbin has caught and caused the dragon's head for #5 to be sewn out of place. F*ck. Gen spends an hour plus slowly and steadily picking out the dragon's head. I have no clue how we will ever line up the complicated stitch pattern to finish this sucker.

Luckily, it's time to drink away our cares for New Years Eve. Remember to take the dress pieces to Kymber at the New Years Eve party. Start yelling at Kevin as soon as he walks through the door - Did you have anything to do with Gwen's device? Guilty look says yes, even as Kevin blames Herveus for the border. Gen chases him into the garage and kicks him in the butt for contributing to such a complicated device.


New Years Day. Not enough sleep. Yawn. Must make banner. Gen comes over and we attempt to put the head back on dragon #5. There is no way we can pull this off. I say. Have a little faith, Blossom. Jog the hoop. Back up the pattern. Jog the alignment again. Check needle placement. Gen squints at it from one angle, I from another. Forward through the pattern. Hold breath. Omigod, it worked. Gen dances around the room proclaiming, We are Gods, baby!

Roland comes back from the copy shop with the larger dragon pattern. And cuts out the pattern. And cuts out the fabric dragon and I work on finishing the edges. This dragon is so annoying it needs a name. I believe in naming things - all the better to yell at them.

Gen, fresh from Harry Potter: How about Norbert?

He's Norweigan. This dragon is Welsh. How about Taffy for 'Taffy the Terrible?'

While Gen finishes Taffy #5, 6, 7 and 8 on the hood, I slowly finish the pieces of the banner. Woo-hoo! Gen holds up the finished embroidery. It's like the tiger/streak and lion/pride hoods. Hey, what do you call a group of dragons? Without missing a beat, I say A diversity. �. How the hell do you know that? � I have no idea - read it somewhere. � Freak! Roland stares at me, so I offer up the trivia that dragon droppings are called "fewmets." Where do you get this stuff? �. Madeline L'Engle's A Wind in the Door � Freak.


Rabah checks on progress. If it's a diversity of dragons, will Gwen be a 'diversion' in that hood? Rabah's turban is on too tight.


Wednesday, cause I have nothing particular to do at work, I spend time surfing, trying to verify a group of dragons is called a diversity, but come up with nothing. Except the ability to annoy Kymber, Padraiga and Gen with random notes of what various clumps of things are called

A scurry of squirrels! Chi, chi, chi! An army of herrings - call and leave Nia a phone message about that one. A shiver of sharks - Damien would like that. A smack of jellyfish. A pace of asses - there's got to be a way to work that into conversation. A cast of hawks. Gen: Please don't start calling Alan a cast A crash of rhinoceroses - oh that's perfect. A bloat of hippopotamuses - I don't think Emma'd like that. Padriaga's not fond of the patch of thistles idea.

Kymber, who's had about enough trivia while she's working: What do you call too many hobbies? Hmmm � nothing, so I make up an answer: An exhaustion? Kymber feels the sudden need to work on her inbox.


Applique, applique, applique. Darn Gwen for being so darn lovable. Gen: Yeah, she is just awfully lovable. Damn Twelfth Night for being a week too early. Iron on the dragon. Realize that fusible stitch witchery shows through the gold and Taffy now has spots all over his body. G*d*mmit!

A dragon with a rash. Roland saves me from despair by kindly cutting out Taffy the Terrible Two while Kymber suggests I acquires that spray adhesive they use for temporarily tacking stuff down � and the second try works yes beautifully - dragon in place sans rash. More hours of applique and done at last.


I'm glad I have friends that are worth this much trouble.

That was one of the truly special things about my vigil - the trouble and effort put into it.


Saturday, with much scurrying and subterfuge, we get Gwen's vigil set up and keep Gwen distracted until first court by getting her dressed and her hair done. I tease her because she's wearing garb borrowed from Kymber and is all blue - no trace of her beloved purple except her stockings.

She made such a cute deer in the headlights when They called her into court.

The Pelicans take her to her vigil site and Aislinn helps Gwen change into the vigil gown she made - a lovely white wool houppelande (which apparently has a story similar to my Taffy trauma attached to it). I'm sure tequila will eventually bring all these stories out.

Ah, the Twelfth Night Gwen meant to spend shopping and relaxing was instead spent in contemplation. When she was finally freed sometime before 4 o'clock, I check and find Gwen already dressed (for the third time that day, poor Barbie-known-as-Gwen) in her new purple cotehardie from Kymber and her dragon hood. Aislinn has just finishing braiding her hair, and she looks stunning.

Her elevation ceremony was lovely. The worthies are always my favorite part, when other peers of the realm speak of the candidates worth. I'd say Gwen had a really good day. And Taffy? Well, Gwen petted the soft purple hood all night.


So, at last, Taffy the little Welsh dragon came through many trials to live with the lovely Welsh lass, Gwendolyn, who adores him - knotted tail and all.


One of the vigil guards offered me commission to make a banner. I laughed.

Scribble to Theo

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