Where did they leave that petard?

South Carolina has just passed a law requiring, "subversive agents" to register Subversive Agent Registration Form(pdf), with the Secretary of State.

Subversive agent is a pretty broad category, in this law.

Check the appropriate box.
Do you or your organization directly or indirectly advocate, advise, teach or practice the duty or necessity of controlling, seizing or overthrowing the government of the United States, the state of South Carolina or any political division thereof?
[ ] YES [ ] NO

Penalties for failing to register are a fine of up to 25,000 dollars and as much as ten years in prison.

I wonder how many member of the Americans for a Republican Majority, etc. will register.

About that wedding

It was... words fail me. Incredible, wonderful, lovely, quiet, abundant, overwhelming, joyful, chaotic, controlled, loving, mirthful, splendid, fun, silly, charming, moving, normal, thoughtful, abandoned; pick three, five; the lot, add some of your own choosing, and shuffle them any which way you choose.

It was all of that, and more, and less and there is not in me the skill to convey it.

But I shall try.

I've been looking forward to this for months. For purely selfish reasons I wanted to go. Home again to Ottawa (Cat and Marna have tattoos which say, "home is not a place" this goes in step with, "home is where the heart is," and I've made similar sentiments plain in dinners in messes where there were soldiers from lots of places. I call a lot of places home, and one of them is a duplex in Ottawa, but I digress).

So I arrived. Cat and Marna met me with timmies and we went to pho. Friday was quiet. I think this was when I cleaned the glassware. Saturday we did some wedding prep (Eugene and Adrienne and Allison came over, with chinese food, and we had an impromptu work party to fortify the port, and label the wine).The set aside glassware for Merav was used to soak the corks, and so some minor drama ensued; and it was being sought, and I was the only one who knew where it was... and I was the last one asked about having seen it. I also set aside a glass for my very own (it was etched, and delicate) Marna and I had a date.

Sunday was spent running wedding errands. We discovered the shop where she planned to get kilt-hose was either out of business, or moved.

I told Marna not to worry, there would be some other shop, or we could beg Les to ferry some from SF. I forget what happened on Monday. Some of it involved people dealing with dresses.

Tuesday I trekked out to the Scottish Shop, and picked some up. I didn't quite manage to figure out the quirks of part of the street connections, so instead of 8 kilometers, I walked a bit more than 11. Then I dead-reckoned the buses home (which I did poorly. This is when last year's bus strike bit me. This trip is when I figured out how to work the transit system). It was a good day. I got to be by myself some, and take some photos and enjoy a walk in the winter air.

Wednesday is also something of a blur. I spent it mostly at the house, and then joined Cat and Marna, who had gone to the airport to meet Mel, who had come out to do the cakes. I grabbed a bus, headed toward the Glebe (happily remembering the layout of the area; much helped by the previous day's walkabout). Grabbed some soup, sat with them some, and finished my coffee while they headed out to look at some needed stuff for making cakes. Caught up to them, and scoped out the cookware shop.

Plans were made to join Gibbs for rock-climbing on Thursday.

Thursday Mel came over, and started on cakes. She and I had already started (to quote her), "geeking out on cooking and knives" on the bus back the night before. I showed her the knife I had ferried up for Ian's father, (as a thank you for all doing the catering for the reception), and we discussed more strategies for cakes. Then I headed out to meet Suzanne for a walk in the park and some photography.

We saw snow, and trees, and heard chickadees. Deer stalked us (a juvenile, a fawn, and a three point buck. I don't know if later deer were the same (the buck didn't return), but we saw more. For a brief time we were surrounded. As we were heading back to the bus, so I could meet with Mel and Gibbs for climbing of rocks, Suzanne spotted a porcupine in the trees. He was doing his best sloth imitation. It wasn't very good and he fell. So we took some photos (the look deceptively cuddly, I didn't test this theory), and made our way.

I dead reckoned back to the climbing gym (stopping off at the Scottish Shop to get better directions. It's a sneaking climbing gym, hiding in a non-descript corner of a back lot. It doesn't help that the numbering in the plaza basically wraps around, so google maps places it about a km away; in an empty field.

Mel was too busy with cakes to join us, so I got to climb with Gibbs and Chantalle and Carol and Lorayne. They quizzed me on how I knew Gibbs, and why I was in town, and were slightly confused by the answers. I wasn't able to climb as much as I'd like; my hip kept locking up. I suspect I was also starting to suffer some low-grade sleep dep.

We made our way back, and then we had pho because Les had arrived (yay!) and Mel joined us. Afterwards we retired to Gibbs (so the side trip to pick up my tie and waistcoat wasn't needed, but no matter), and sampled beverages (I got to refresh my memory of Sortilege; ah...) and took a tour of the house (before it was turned into an impromptu hostel; being large, and near to hand and Gibbs being a dear) and headed home.

Friday... the beginning of the wedding proper (or im). People were arriving. I headed down to Luciano's to get bacon, and cheese, and bread and eggs; that I might make some breakfast. Omelettes for about a dozen people. The walk was the calm before the storm (and the most charming single moment of the trip. I was taken for a local at the market). The sense of, Oh My God, there is going to be a wedding started to be palpable. Dresses weren't quite sorted; kilts were in some question of needing pressed. There was a party tonight. FLAIL. All in a strangely contained way. Some frictions, as getting dressed for the party (hosted by us, venued by Gibbs, attended by many... the number actually uncertain; there were confusions in the spreading of the word). I was in tails (I'd left them in Ottawa last year. I may just replace the jacket, and move the more portable parts, so as to be able to dress when I feel like it, where I feel like it), and got to put faces to great swathes of names. Benet arrived, Nell arrived, The Other Kat arrived, Izzy showed up, Andrew made an appearance. Skyler (whom I knew already, but hadn't yet seen this trip, was there). I made the acquaintance of Merav (of whom I had heard much, and little, because we'd been figuring out how to manage a kosher service; of something, so she could eat). And a friend of hers from childhood was in the area, so she was invited. Josee was there.

Arnon (fabled in stories) was present. Dominic, and Eugene and Adrienne, and Tall Alison, and Mel, and Sara Jean, and Jenny, and the names and faces blur together. Cheese was eaten, bread was shared, wine flowed, whiskey passed, glasses were broken toasts were made and Marna and I made a valiant effort, but the week had been long, and I was fading by not quite midnight, be the company ever so pleasant and so by quarter of one we were walking home. Cat and Ian got in about 4.

Up in the a.m. Plans had been made for people to join us for breakfast, prior to going about the canal (on skates), or wandering around the general area on foot. Scrambled eggs and bacon for 22 (so I'm told, I don't know. I was just working the stove for two hours, one fully loaded pan of eggs at a time. On top of arms tired from the rock-walls it was a moderate amount of work). We got out the door about 2:30. Piled people into cars and off we went.

Various sorts of the miscommunications of large; separated, groups happened, and other minor difficulties. I ended up skating on my own, while Izzy waited on the Other Kat; she and I being the only two who ended up skating. It's been something like twenty years since I was last on ice, and maybe thirty-five since I was on wild ice. It was my first time on hockey skates.

I had a blast. I never really fell, though I did end up with moments of being off my feet. Some bit of rotten ice, or over-gouged would put my one-point too far ahead of my center and I'd have to wrestle my balance, and slow; place a hand on the ice and get back up. The skates didn't quite fit, so I spent a fair bit of time adjusting them.

that said, I probably skated 4-5 miles in the hour. I was working with an open coat for much of the time, and skated back to the rendezvous to Rush's Red Barchetta. The next winter I am in Ottawa, I will have my own skates. The trip to the Scottish shop would have been much simpler with a long leg on the canal.

Saturday night was quiet. I don't, in fact, really remember it. At some point Les, and the Other Cat, decided they were going for pho (the pho place is swell... open until 5 a.m., and friendly, and yummy). Les called out, "Karney, I'm not taking you to dinner if you don't put some pants on," and so I dressed (I was swanning about in a red union-suit, by way of Pjs), and we walked to food.

Other people joined us. I don't recall who all. Les tried to pay. Marna told her to put her money away. Les said, OK, but told Marna she was being prevented from being nice to me, and so Marna let her pay for my soup. It was a good time.

Sunday was der Tag. Dressing, and getting one's hair done. Rayne being made-up downstairs. Andrew helping everyone upstairs. Me wandering about half-dressed (I wore my dress blues, and the coat/belt, aren't things to be wandering about in). Got dressed, got in the car, headed to the venue. Worked on set up. Said hello to people as they walked in. It became crowded.

Over the course of the next three hours the hall filled. I nibbled. I walked about. I talked to people. I met Marna's mother, Ian's aunts and uncles, and maybe cousins. Took some photos. Laughed, hugged, wandered. Drank some wine; looked at all the people. Tall Alison; in heels, and a brilliant purple wrapped number, which was devastatingly gorgeous when she danced. Marna and Rayne and Cat and Ian; wandering about, and mingling, and keeping track of each other. Mel arrived with the cakes (at last; she had been slaving over them from day one, and now they were done; Playmobil, and fondant, and icing, and legos made of sweet-tarts and there they were; on the display stand, ready to be gone, a labor of love, and an ephemera). Food was cleared, tables were squared, and people took their seats.

I had the rings, and my camera. Les, in vestments of white, took the floor. Sacred things were done, and said, and the floor was open to all. Poems were read, songs were sung, recollections were shared, and hopes expressed. The moment was near to hand. I took the rings, and; at the slow march, showed them to all, bringing them back to Les; and the vows were exchanged.

They were wed.

And the party recommenced. The music was louder, there was dancing, there was singing. There were toasts. Men in kilts; one in a caftan made from a tablecloth, and he looked grand in it, and tails and a uniform and joy abounding. We stayed 'till the hall wouldn't have us, and then back to Gibbs to carry on. A quieter time; the fancy dress a bit reduced (my jacket back at the house, Cat, Marna, and Rayne to lesser dresses), more port, a bit of whiskey; and Mel and I claiming bottles of Sortilege to take home. Too soon it was time to go, and at that I stayed to the last minutes I could be awake. Home, to pack, and then to take a nap, and then to get up and go to the airport with Les.

We took a cab. Marna joined us, and saw us off. I managed not to cry. Marna waited for Mel to arrive; her flight was only a couple of hours after ours (reports have it that she got on the plane with icing in her hair). We saw Andrew at the gate, as he waited to head toward Texas.

Off we went. I looked out the window for as long as I could make out the house, and then to the studying I'd not been doing for my econ mid-term. Landed in O'Hare, where Andrew lay in wait for us on the way to our gate. We had lunch and talked about people.

On the plane to SFO. More reading, and some very pleasant conversation with my seatmate; on her way to Stanford to discuss some translation she'd done. Home again. Phone calls to let people, from Ottawa to San Francisco know we were safe. Emails sent out to other people.

So many faces, and names and friends. All spread out; collected in one place, and then dispersed again. The mundane of everyday life to resume. The same as it ever was, and not.