No Sir, I Don’t Like It

I don’t like hospitals. I don’t think many people do but who knows. I had a few surgeries growing up. I think there were seven in total. All on my ears. Apparently I had issues with draining and constant ear infections, thus the need for tubes. In and out. My eardrums are scarred to hell and I still don’t have all my hearing back(lost 70% at a point, got majority of it back).

My younger sister and I visited my grandmother on Tuesday. It was hard seeing her in such a state. Not being able to talk or walk on her own. The last time I saw her was around Christmas and she was her usual self. I could tell she was annoyed and upset that she couldn’t talk. She was upset with most things. I did get a smile from her when I was saying goodbye and a good hug. She’s doing better but it still troubles the family. My dad is losing sleep. It’s hard.

She is starting rehab today. Here is to hoping that things run smoothly.



So, two days of the Zero to Hero, Blogging 101 were skipped. Why? First was the bird incident. He made it through the night and a lovely woman from a bird rescue came by to give him proper care. So happy!

Secondly, my grandmother suffered a massive stroke saturday night. So sunday was busy with worry and waiting. She is doing better but they’re keeping her in the hospital for a few days.

Today I will hop back in. I wont go back and redo what I missed. The first day was just a theme switch but I like mine. The second, while I don’t know who to write to or what to write about, I just want to forget that day.

I never heard my dad sound so sad and tired. It hurt.

That’s One Way to Start the Weekend

So, work went relatively well today. Busy, which is good. We got fresh stock in and I tried a new soup. Grendal even walked out to the store with Yuko and Sweets(our four-legged niece). We had a nice jaunt home and got ready to do some work.

Grendal has me outside to spot what he’s doing but his father was there making me a little redundant. So I decide to look around and take some pictures with my phone. Saw some bird nests on the play house and saw a bird building one. I watch it a bit. The thing eventually swoops down to a five gallon bucket to fluff itself with water. I don’t see much except another bird go to swoop at the same bucket but quickly fly off.

Nothing happens in the bucket. I can see a head.


I decide to make sure the bird can fly off. As I get closer the thing just sits there. That’s when I noticed that the bucket was filled with something not quite water and the poor thing was drenched in it.

There were no second thoughts. I stuck my hands in the muck and scooped the bird out. It was sticky and I was panicking. I shouted at Grendal, who was on the roof, but I don’t think it was coherent. I told the two what I had in my hands and we somehow bumbled through the house and to the bathroom.

Grendal’s mother said to use Dawn soap. I did. It’s helped a little. The bird is breathing, awake, and can move a little. I worry. Some of its feathers are gone and I can’t remove all the sticky stuff. We have a woman coming out tomorrow who volunteers at a local bird rescue. She’ll be able to take over.

I just hope the guy lasts the night.

And this seals it. I’m not happy with Grendal’s sister and brother-in-law. The bucket of muck was theirs and they have little remorse. I should have kicked it over in their driveway.

And this is also the point where I wish I would’ve finished those Vet tech courses. Maybe I wouldn’t have freaked out as much.

Dressing for a Raid

Pillaging isn’t a guarantee but raiding is a promise!


So, day three of the Blogging 101 course of sorts.  Asking about what we had in mind when we started blogging.  I started blogging at some point in high school(over 12 years ago) and it was more of a journal online where people could read it if they wanted to.  Don’t know if anyone ever did but hey, it was there.  While I have started and stopped a few the only thing that has kept me going is just that need to ramble and write what’s going on in my world.  So yes, a journal of sorts where people can read about those moments and ramble with me, or at me.

Not really a ‘why am I here’ type post but more of my usually gabbing.


So yes, I’ve been scouring the internet again for outfits since RenFair season is creeping up on me.  Sure, it’s in July but one can never start too early when it comes to clothing.

Last year and the year before I ran around a nearby fair in an outfit Grendal’s mother made me.  I love it, though it does have a tendency to be hot and a bit much. While it is rather accurate in the form of color and material, it’s not quite what I really wanted.  What do I want, you wonder?  Fantasy style stuff.  Either that or something along the lines of Nordic styles.  I’ve done enough research on my down time to figure out some nice clothing ideas and, a few weeks ago, Grendal and I went to a fabric store and picked up a nice bunch of patterns.


Look at that! Now I need to learn to sew.

Look at that! Now I need to learn to sew.


I’m rather happy with the apron patterns because I can easily modify it to be a nice Norse style item.  Grendal’s mother has a nice bunch of costume patterns that we can use when need be or, if we must, I know of sites where we can slap together what we want.

I can’t wait.

Food and fun.  And my nieces!

And blood! Well, stage blood. Those jousting tournaments are getting pretty awesome.

Sugar High

Warm weather is trying to creep back in after the odd April snow we had two days ago.  Customers at the shop are getting into the warm weather spirit too and are asking/requesting iced drinks.  We have that.  We can make iced teas, iced coffees, iced lattes, smoothies, and stuff like that.  The one thing we were ready for were these bad boys:

I drink the blood of my enemies....the bubbly, bubbly blood.

I only drink the blood of my enemies….the bubbly, bubbly blood.

I think I may have a way to make a Smaug the Golden drink. Now, to experiment!

I think I may have a way to make a Smaug the Golden drink. Now, to experiment!

Italian sodas(and it’s creamy cousin).

Mama(the wife half of the couple who own the shop) came in this morning armed with shop necessities and club soda.  I peeped into the shopping bag and pulled a bottle out with a grin on my face while my coworker(we’ll call him Divo because that’s what he calls himself half the time) looked on perplexed.  All I had to say was ‘Italian soda’ and he was grinning like a cat.  Given the okay we promptly began looking at recipes and figuring out what we can do.  Since I’m usually the one in charge of snapping shots of new store items and posting them on the shop’s Facebook page we decided to go all out.  Not just any soda would do and we wanted it to look good.  So, a vibrant red it was and, with the cream added, it turned into an interesting gradient.

Let me tell you, this sucker was good.  The only thing I wasn’t keen on was the amount of syrup that went into it.  Talk about sugar buzz.  Since sugar has been less and less in my drinks this smacked me.  I got a headache pretty quick but couldn’t help sneaking sips from Divo’s cup.  Why not mine?  I shouldn’t have been drinking it because of the red dye(luckily no hives this time[I know, bad Djarfskald, no]) and the two of us should have stayed away from the cream soda version thanks to dairy and our bodies rebelling against each other.

Mama liked the result and has to go about calculating costs and we have three pages worth of quick recipes and basics for everyone to follow.  I’m crossing my fingers that this will call forth warm weather.


Not too hot, though. Heat and I don’t mix, especially my hair.  Talk about transforming into a puff ball!  Yeeek.

(S)He Was a Zero

Also known as: Return to Previous Spawn Point.

And yes, that was a Hercules reference. I couldn’t help myself.


Well, here I am.  A blogger for years with the inevitable end of forgetting about said blog.  This time will be different, I swear.

This time around I am known as Djarfskald.  A name I concocted while not quite joining a local chapter of the Society for Creative Anachronism.  While that was nearly five years ago the meaning still rings true, Wandering Poet.  While I am not a poet I do write and, if given the chance, I wander.  I am a child of three, the daughter of two retired Air Force officers who thought it was a good idea to show their kids the national parks of the US(loved every minute of it).

I am a wife, married to a man I refer to as Grendal for nearly a year.  He is the stable portion of my life and my best friend for nearly 10 years.  He rekindled my love of nature, working with the earth, and history.  While we have no human children we do have a gathering of four legged animals we treat like our children, our cats Tinker and Peregrin Took, as well as our dog Fuyuko.

As stated already writing is a passion of mine.  I have written little stories since the third grade and I’m going strong as I near my 30th birthday.  My goal, before I finally call it quits and leave this life, is to publish something.  There is no greater dream in my life than holding up a book and saying ‘Hey! I wrote this!’.


What shall this blog be about?  As with so many others, it is about my life.  My gripes, grumps, dreams, hopes, and flailing moments.  I am a gamer, so you can expect posts about video games and table top sessions(Dungeons and Dragons happen every sunday).  Movies are my therapy, so if I see one I’ll ramble about it.  Reading, whether it is fiction or non-fiction, might be talked about if the urge strikes.  I am in love with history, so there may be an educational moment hidden here.

Above all, this is my LIFE.  There is nothing hidden when I post.  I am laid bare to the world.  I want to connect with people since there are so few I can connect with here.

Tastes Like Springtime

It’s starting to get warm here in northern Illinois. Mother Nature has thrown 60+ degrees at us and everyone is running around in summer clothes, myself included.

The coffee shop is feeling the heat already. With the oven running for baked goods and rolls for soup it’s bound to happen. That paired with the fact that the ceiling is the roof. Nothing between them. Summer may be the death of me. I think I may have to invest in a crap-ton of hair ties to survive.

We’ve been working on spring type treats. Iced coffee and lattes, blended drinks, and our baked is tackling the food. Nothing screams warm weather more than iced lattes, strawberries, and lemons. Not together. Well, definitely the strawberries and lemons, not the coffee.

Soon are the weekends filled with hiking and long days. Coming home smelling like nature, sweat, and the occasional bonfire. I can’t wait. I think I need it. I love winter a lot but the house is feeling restricting and depressing.

I need something to feel happy about.