anachrony

Cheryl and I stand at the rim of the dance floor, watching the couples swirl around the room counter-clockwise. Dancers on the face of a clock running backwards. Most of the couples moving past us are swirling by in hoop skirts and coat tails, victorian lace swaying as white-gloved gentlemen lead graceful turns in a waltz rhythm. Here and there the timeline leaks or wrinkles. There goes Queen Elizabeth I, and here are Romeo and Juliet. That looks like it Regency-era lady over there, talking to a gentleman in a modern suit and tie.

I bought a CD this week that was recommended on the webpage of a band that I'd heard and liked at Dickens Fair. (Ah, the internet... Entwining our lives and providing me with lots of stuff I don't need to spend money on... Huzzah!) Anyway, I bought the CD from a little online music store called CD Baby that sells a lot of independant labels.

My confirmation of shipping email arrived on Tuesday:

This past weekend was Vacaville's first Middle Earth Festival and my own little fellowship gathered to celebrate. On Friday, we met at my house for a pre-festival festival. In hobbit style, we prepared way too much food. We barbecued shish-kabobs and grazed through salads. We raised glasses of homemade mead and toasted to Frodo. We played some Lord of the Rings Trivia and watched The Fellowship of the Ring.