Today was a day of sending out things into the world, secret things. Hopefully soon, in addition to no longer taking up room in my workshop, they will no longer be secret and I can tell you about them. Or the recipients will.

On the other face of things, all my drive got sucked out of me after Faerie Con. I haven't been able to muster the attention span or will to finish things left half-done or things with looming deadlines. Sigh. I need someone to send me some mojo for that. Secret mojo, if you like. Please?



Edit: And then as if to taunt me about what is missing from my life, what I pine for, this video popped up on handmadebooks. I think I'm going to go now and cry in a corner somewhere.

One of our neighbors got a basset hound a few years ago, and ever since the neighborhood has been filled with a chorus of off-key baying, six times daily or more. The local dogs had been fairly quiet previously. So it would seem that basset hounds are instigators. Quite frankly it's driving us mad. The more acute the sense of pitch, the more mad. Mad, six times daily. Or more.

My mother has suggested revenge in the form of peacocks.

Revenge goes EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH randomly at two in the morning and shits on other people's vehicles ideally.

I think it'd be even more obnoxious to keep white (leucismic) or black (melanismic) peacocks. Besides my feather collection is lacking those.

While I was travelling down from Thunder Bay this September, I insisted that we stop at Burnie's Rock Shop in Madison because, clearly, there wasn't enough lapidary in this trip already. And so I absconded from that marvel of a store with some tiny trilobites, a pearlized ammonite and some minerals disguised as platonic solids. A pleasing little treasure trove to fit in my pocket.

The trilobites at least (and maybe the nautilid too) are destined to become a brooch for the trilobite beret [rav], which is easily my most favorite hat of the year. It was almost entirely knit on that same trip. Softsoftsoft Malabrigo and slate and fossils and how could it go wrong? The trouble is . . . what with being a beret and not a beanie, the trilobite motif is even harder to spot. Maybe some extra visual aides will help. That's the plan anyways.



My plans for the fluorite octahedron and the pyrite dodecahedrons are to have them hanging around, being pretty. They are well suited for that purpose as you can see.

My own little bubble of Ye Olden Worlde is slowly expanding to encompass all things. Even post apocalyptic dystopian near-futures. Awesome. Except for the "period blackface," which I could do without.

All right then! Since I think I've cleared the decks of all remaining Faerie Con business, it must be time for the . . .



The phrasing remains unimproved upon, so let's just call this a tradition and be done with it ok? (Also, cut-n-paste is easier at three-forty in the morning than coming up something pithy and original which is, again, traditional.)

• If you're interested in a Genuine & Authorized piece of von Strangehours' Generic Winter Holiday post, please! Leave a comment with your name or preferred soubriquet and mailing address. All comments will be screened, so the only possible crazy internet stalker person you need worry about is me. (And I've no interest in stalking anyone, frankly. No offense.)



• You may find yourself receiving one regardless, because I can be enthusiastic like that. It would also be awfully nice of you to reciprocate, but it isn't really necessary.



• For your reference, 2008, 2007 and 2006's cards, which people seemed to enjoy. You may already have an inkling of what I'm working on this year.

One of the Faerie Con crew, on learning that there was a fedora-and-pinstripes Fairy Godmother on the premises:

"We have known each other many years, but this is the first time you've come to me for counsel. I can't remember the last time you invited me to your toadstool for thistledew and cakes, and me bein' godmother to your only child."

I did suggest that if people were getting out of line and not showing the Godmother the respect she deserved, that they might wake up one morning to find a severed unicorn's head in their bed. Gotta send the right message, you see. They too could be an endangered species. It could be arranged.

And there were bad Marlon Brando accents all around.



I love it when disparate fandoms collide, I really do.

This is Toby Froud, and his chum. Since vendors don't get out much and we weren't exactly given scheduling details, I learned too late that he was there to give a workshop on building puppetry, and also maybe to walk on stilts during the balls, and generally practice puppetry at large. (Quite grateful for that last bit.) All in all, a good lifestyle if you can come by it, I think.

His friend with the aviator goggles, whose name I didn't catch, seems to be quite keen on sandwiches, possibly having overdone things the night previous at the Bad Faeries Ball. It makes me wonder if Doctor Who, notorious sandwich stealer throughout space and time, has been a pervasively bad influence even underhill.

In general, Sunday was a day where the con decided unilaterally to

• have a hangover of EPIC proportions, even if you did not partake the night before, even if you weren't there to partake the night before.


• dress in every variant of steampunk known to man. Combinations of bustles, waistcoats, ruffles, flounces, toppers, metal tubing, clockwork wings, and more contributed to the crowding of the hallways.

No planning of any kind was involved on those two points. It just happened. It also just happened to be a mini conference-within-a-conference of utilikilts. Yes! Utilikilts! Which have not stopped being lolariously manly since we mentioned them last. As with many other things at this convention though, they looked perfectly normal in context, with a wide variety of makes and models being sported by the gents. A few Proper Kilts even showed up. Fantastico.

I'm not sure how things will work out for next year because we're still doing the tallies, but it was highly enjoyable and we had the opportunity to meet a number of great creative people. Just. You know. It ain't cheap to be there.

Thinking about some very great conversations I've had lately about lexicography and word-fooling and the general lull of silence that has fallen over dictionaryporn. I definitely want to start posting more of that now that insanity of hatting is over—oh wait, not entirely over, damn—but I think I need to warm up to it a little.

As I poke at the pretty button in photoshop, I've had two words filling my head:

in⋅uk⋅shuk pl inukshuks or inukshuit or inuksuit
Function: noun
Etymology: Inuktitut ᐃᓄᒃᓱᒃ (inuksuk, “in the likeness of a human”).

: a structure of piled stones, designed to resemble a humanoid figure and traditionally constructed by the Inuit

- Wiktionary.com

. . . which you're going to be hearing about as the Winter Olympics draw nearer, I'm sure. It's a pleasant word to roll back and forth in your mind, regardless of athletic effort. Solid. Weighty. Earthy. A builderly word.

i⋅sin⋅glass [ˈī-zən-ˌglas, ˈī-ziŋ-]
Function: noun
Etymology: 1535–45; < MD huysenblase (with glass for blase by folk etym.), lit., sturgeon bladder; c. G Hausenblase

1 : a pure, transparent or translucent form of gelatin, obtained from the air bladders of certain fish, esp. the sturgeon: used in glue and jellies and as a clarifying agent.

2 : mica, esp. in thin, translucent sheets.

- Dictionary.com Unabridged

It's that second definition that sounds the most intriguing. "Isinglass curtains," looking at the world through delicate shimmering stones. It plays well to my mad, fanciful whims. Did that turn up in His Dark Materials or not? I can't remember.

Since auraphage expressed concerns about the mundane quality of the indoor surroundings, I offer these glimpses of the marketplace. There wasn't much we could do about the carpet, but dang it, we tried.



And of course it helps if you have fantastical people, helping to block out the view of all the other modern fixtures.



Regrettably, I was away from the booth when the Green Men came through on their march and blessed all of the merchants and proceeded to throw acorns at them. (Their promotional literature is a more interesting read than most other fraternal orders you might encounter.) Rats. And then the camera spent the entire second day underneath the table, where it didn't do anyone much good. I didn't even get more than an accidental shot of our neighbors, Gypsy Eye Jewelry, who were grand.

Coming Soon, Faerie Con Part III: Epic Hangovers & Puppetry At Large!

Slowly clearing the glitter out from between my ears and trying to make sense of the rest of the world. Allow me to repeat, slowly.

So. Faerie Con. What to say?


A place where all of this is perfectly normal, donotinanywaybecomealarmedthankyou.


And of course there was earlofgrey! Who was marvelous (and I don't believe a bit of what I heard that you became flustered and bashful after I left. That is a lie, sir.). I do feel quite bad that I ran off to chauffeur lilly_rose to the con and missed both Jack and Gnomegarden. I am horrible and rude and I apologise and I hope you enjoyed the day regardless. (How could I forget that Baltimore+Frederick rush hour on a Friday is a pointless, rage-inducing timesink? That sort of thing should stick in the brain.)

More pictures to surface soon . . .

Will now accept payment in forms of

• vintage millinery supplies



• large chunks of the following sparkly rocks strung together on silver wire: black goldstone, labradorite, spectrolite

Or, you know, there's always cash. (But first born children are right out. I am very firm on that point.) This is also to say that Charles de Lint's wife and one of the jewelers are going to bankrupt me.

:D :D :D

Making more of an effort to x-post from Dreamwidth, like one does. Holler if you want an invite.

Packin' up the pot of industrial strength holospectric glitter. I guess that means I've survived the last 48 hours and I'm off to Faerie Con?

Behave yourselves and don't break the internets while I'm gone. Or there will be trouble.

xoxo
- Chronographia

Sewing pearls onto Whimsy's Bog Garden Special hat—they glow against the lime green and magenta—and wondering if I could use my hair straightening iron to get rid of the more persistent brim distortions.

So excited about seeing people at Faerie Con this weekend, provided that I survive the next two days of prep work and last minute details.

Small charming anthropomorphic creatures can indeed be small and charming. But sometimes they get it all wrong.

Raven said to Owl, "The humans dress up and get shiny wrappers for their trouble. Let's do that!"

And so they thought and thought. And ended up dressing as each other. Because owls and ravens don't have much in the way of superheros or princesses out in the woods. (And Raven won't share his hoard of sequins either.)

Happy Halloween!

Today's real life whimsy includes:

• Young child unicycling across a brick paved crossing, arm in arm with parental.


• Vending machine moustaches. I assume that this is the I.M.W.L.'s version of baseball cards; swap a pushbroom for a snidely-whiplash and so forth?

It's a good thing that such things regularly occur in my life, because I don't think I could make them up otherwise. (And clearly I am going to have to draw them at some point.)

Today also marks the first time that my (still mostly, despite my best efforts,) black wardobe has been officially employed as mourning clothes. So.
Funeral parlors are somehow not as opulent as their exteriors suggest, which is a let down.

It occurs to me that not everyone is watching the twitt'r account so as a public service to people who aren't b_zedan and haven't already seen it:

• dry ice + Tide detergent + black light = smoking bubbles that glow in the dark



• As awesome as the idea of a glowing, bubbling, smoking toilet bowl sounds, it is not recommended to subject porcelain to that kind of temperature shock. Go with metal or plastic dishes that you don't mind abusing.

And now you can reap the benefits of my misspent youth as a theatre technician. (mrvelocipede might remember that one, and drawing black light tattoos with highlighters.)

The good things about today:

• I realized that pal Endsend actually loves watchman/beanie style hats and has a birthday coming up.



• I can pay my student loan for this month, just squeaking in.



• AAA membership has benefits in places you wouldn't expect, like the pharmacy counter. Which is nice when you're uninsured.

The horrible things about today:

• everything else

So you may be wondering why America has this crazypants healthcare system and why it is such a fuss to fix. I know a lot of international folks have said as much (often loudly, in an irritated tone), and I bet there are more than a few Americans who are perplexed at the whole business too. To understand why, we must first understand how.

That's where the very wonderful public radio team at Planet Money comes in. They demystify all of it, in plain speak. They are great.

They are also . . . on the depressing side. Or rather, the problems they try to explain, that I face, that my country is mired in, are depressing. Incredibly so. (Still, Planet Money is probably one of the best things public radio has ever done. And I'm not just saying that because I used to work for NPR.)

As chasers, I offer you the Dinner Party Download podcast and Studio 360 for weekly doses of the strange and wonderful. Because sometimes we need to remember that not everything in the world is overwhelming.

I've spent a fair amount of time this fall being a little out of my depth (and berating my sewing skills for facing such a steep learning curve). But at last! Ruffles and frills and pearls and roses! Adornments. Coquetteries.

Something new, I've been trying out after being smitten with Kamicha's rosette collar. What do you think?



I should perhaps note that even though upholstery-weight satin is VERY ALLURING, it is just about the last material you want to make rosettes out of. Seriously, no matter how much interfacing you're going to sew them on to. Woe betide you; you have been warned.

An object from a recent dream: While wandering through a string of rooms that were slowly being flooded, sitting on the top shelf of an open wardrobe was a row of hats.

One of them was a rather interesting fascinator/half cloche, with a nautilus twist at the front made of plum and mallard green organdy, behind which you could see a large fractal set* etched on a metal plate. When I reached out to touch it, the toile gave way to my fingers and the hard metal clicked at the pressure, which then turned out to be a guard for internal clockwork, swinging around the various fractal pieces into endless new configurations.

Clearly this was not a hat—depth issues for one thing—but something strange and complex masquerading as a hat. I also got the impression that it was self-aware. I wonder if it knew it was in a generally unsafe place, or if that was just the best camouflage it could come up with.

Conclusion: I need a new hobby. One that does not involve making things that might turn out to be sentient.

---

* Something like a cross between this and this. I blame mrvelocipede for the whole thing.