So, the past three weekends, we've gone to the Bristol Renaissance Faire. I love that place. Even when we're not doing anything, we're having fun. Sometimes the kid and I (and "the kid" is the 18 year old daughter) will put on our fake and horrible accents and carry on a conversation to the delight of passers-by (who actually think our voices are done well, go figure).
So far, every single two-day weekend (with the exception of last weekend, when we only went on Sunday because Ceej had a college thing on Saturday), I've taken my Vicodin with me (and Panadol) and I have not needed it. Not once. Sure, I hurt, but when I do, I find a place to sit down. At the faire, that isn't hard to do. Plenty of benches throughout the faire, shows to watch, (the joust to watch), so I can sit down nearly anywhere for an indefinite amount of time. I haven't needed any extra Vicodin at night or even extra muscle relaxers. (I'm still taking Cyclobenzaprine at night).
Oh, sure, on Monday I'm tired. Tuesday is usually the day it catches up to me and roundhouse kicks me Chuck Norris Style, but for the most part, I haven't felt any worse or better than usual. Well, "better" is sort of... I can't find the right word. Better isn't the right word, but I do feel less crappy. Today is Thursday and I had an awful day on Wednesday. A day full of stress and bullshit and by the end of the day, my muscles were wound so tight I felt like I was a slingshot that was loaded and ready to fire. Or, maybe I felt like Chuck Norris, wound up to kill someone with a roundhouse kick to the face, only to realize the person is a baby and Chuck Norris would never roundhouse kick a baby in the face.
But every Saturday and Sunday, I get up, I get dressed- in garb, no less- and I spend all day at the faire. We get there usually 20 to 30 minutes before opening (depending on traffic) because once there, I have to pull my laces tighter and put on some accessories and such. And I don't hurt much standing at the gate. I have a pair of Doc Martens that I go last October because they look like faire shoes.
They're called Shoreditch Ninjas and I had to get them in black because that's all the website had them in. A few months later, they got them in "cherry red" which is Doc Marten-speak for "dark distressed red". Which would have been AWESOME.
So, all this time, you're thinking, "How is the faire good for you, Patty?" and some of you are saying, "Wait, your name is Patty? How lame!" I know, it is lame. It'd be even lamer if you knew my last name.
Well, today, I had to go pick up some photo prints and stop into the store for a couple things (I'm making hamburgers for dinner and we forgot to get buns). I walked through the store without getting tired. Or winded. Or achy. Or sore. Or any one of those annoying things fibro does to me. So, my time at the faire, being upright, mobile, and sweating (the heat, I swear, that's the worst part) is good for me. Maybe next week, I'll start trying that upright, mobile, sweaty thing during the week. Maybe Tuesdays and Thursdays. That'll be four days a week total.
And now, since you've gotten this far, here are some links to my favorite part of the faire.
The Joust! For all the photos you see, I have at least that many that I didn't upload and share.
The Maxx and Mauldron Show- a Knight at the Opera These guys are great. And they joust, so yeah. There's that too.
And, The Fantastikals at the Bristol Renaissance Faire... they're amazing. That's a job I couldn't do because they don't talk. And if I had to do that job, I'd either die or get fired. Because if you know me, you know I talk. A lot. In fact, I'm usually hoarse for two days following faire. DON'T JUDGE ME!
ALL the faire photos- so if you're really bored...
So there you have it. The Faire is good for me. Probably for you too. If you don't know if there's a faire near where you live, just Google "[your state] ren faires" and you'll find them. Trust me. I'm hoping to keep up this momentum after faire season.
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