Rowan Tree and Red Thread

These fellows know their ping-pong balls. Not sure if they'll ever pass their exams, though.

(courtesy of wwhyte via Facebook)

I got my gaming group together on Thursday night to give the Do: Pilgrims of the Flying Temple character generation a whirl. It went really well!

Daniel Solis (gobi) has been running a playtest of the character generation rules for Do, and my group graciously indulged me and agreed to give it a whirl on Thursday night. The group consisted of

mylescorcoran - Nomad/Hero - F
alaimacerc - Dreamer/Orphan - M
marzut - Dreamer/Runaway - F
Peter M - Warrior/Graduate - M
sammywol- Warrior/Castaway - F
irishkate - Noble/Fugitive - F

( Long description cut )

As I said, an excellent evening's entertainment and we were only making characters. If the actual play of the game in earnest is anything like last Thursday night I'd say Daniel has a winner on his hands.

irishkate has links to two interesting quizzes up at the BBC's Human Body and Mind section of the Science and Nature site. The first looks at our ability to discriminate genuine from fake smiles, the second our ability to recall faces we've seen and how lack of sleep affects our temporal recall of faces.

Not sure how seriously to take the results though. Either that or I'm a lot less sleep deprived than I thought I was.

(18/20 smiles, 100% recognition, 87% temporal recall)

Last night, after juggling two reluctant kids off to sleep, sammywol and I had a very pleasant evening with mizkit, chefted and irishkate. Tea and cake were consumed (note the passive voice to protect the identities of the culprits), and much badinage was indulged in.

So why is it I feel like death on defrost this morning? If I'd known I'd be like this in the morning last night I'd have hit the Laphroaig.

Our daughter, Rowan, looks equally like (or unlike) both her parents. This will not, of course, silence the grand-parents, extended family, well-wishers and passers-by in the street, all of whom have strong opinions on babies and who they most resemble.



Thanks to iamnikchick for putting me on to the application in the first place.

We're out at Supernova, Ballincollig, another of the several 'soft play' centres around Cork. This one is larger than the others and boasts an ice rink upstairs but after my last encounter with skates (inline rollers) years ago I'm not going anywhere near them.

Instead I'm watching Rowan and her old crechemate, Alex, scoot about the place in a state of high excitement, climbing on and jumping off EVERYTHING. I'm exhausted just watching them.

Another family Sunday. Home later to wrap up my zine for A&E and collapse.

I've had a tough week. This made it lots better.

We spent the weekend down the country with the in-laws, ensconced in the
sleepy valley of the Argideen river. Sleepy that is apart from the angry
hornet sounds of rally cars racing along the valley, taking part in the West
Cork Annual Rally. Rowan turns out to be a bit of a petrol-head and insisted
on being brought down the lane to observe the passing rally cars as they
rounded the bend by the bridge. Perhaps she was keen on the chip van that
accompanied the general crowd of viewers.

Later in the day we went into Clonakilty to watch the parade. We were
misinformed about the starting time, but that only meant we had to go to an
ice cream parlour. We HAD to you, honest.

Rowan enjoyed the parade, which was typically small town; a collection of
local sports teams and clubs along with representatives of the Red Cross,
the police, the fire brigade, the Coast Guard and two lifeboat services.
Oscar slept through the whole business unfortunately as he was a lot more
wakeful last night.

So a more traditional Paddy's day than most I've had, but family fun for the
four of us.

( Another day, another quiz. )

Thanks to Adam Dray for the pointer.

The four mighty Dungeon Squad heroes finished their quest for wagon wheels last night. ( Down the mines again... )

And blinking in the light, the four exited the abandoned dwarven mine victorious, with the four wheels they needed to get the caravan back on the road. Now it was time for ale and whores!

With thanks to nhw.

With thanks to fjm, ( my xmas stocking ). Leave me something you think I'll like.

Last night sammywol and I tried the Agincourt scenario from Battlelore again, this time swapping the sides so that I played the English and she played the French.

I'm beginning to think that the English have the worst of it in this scenario. I had my ass handed to me this time, with a final result of 4/1 banners in favour of the French. To be fair I think I made it easier for the French by advancing some of my infantry rather than concentrating on laying down fire from my archers as early as possible. The stand out piece of bad luck was a round where I did get it together in the centre and manage 8 dice worth of attacks against one of the English infantry units and didn't score a single hit or retreat flag. Clearly the gods of war were with the French.

It was still fun, and quicker to play than our first try. I have sorted the pieces out by type and it makes the setting up much quicker.

Next, I think we should move onto the more fantasy elements, like the goblin and dwarven mercenaries, or the lore masters.

I said recently that our gaming group's current run with Dungeon Squad would probably wrap up this session, as the bold adventurers push on into the depths of the dwarven mine to recover the stolen wheels from their caravan. Alas no, it was not so. Last night's session was almost entirely taken up with one big fight between our heroes and the goblin chief and his elite(-ish) guard.

( Adventuring behind the cut... )

So the group only cleared out a single room this week, but took out the goblin chief and the rest of his minions. The question now is: where are the remaining two wheels? And what is that eerie wind that blows along the branch of the corridor they haven't explored yet? And how did P'ing, the 1/16th Orc warrior woman ever get that dwarven helm to fit on her head?

Hee, hee. Gleeful mutterings, etc. My copy of Battlelore, long lost in the bowels of the Irish postal system, appeared today just as I was going for lunch. Christmas has come early to this little corner of Cork.

I tried that language test nhw posted a link to.

( Speak up! )

Not bad for a physicist (and one far less interested in languages than ex-physicist nhw).

I'm no nhw ( but ... )

While visiting my mother we have happened to coincide with a street party
organised by local families for residents. The centerpiece of this party is
a bouncy castle, which has captivated and commanded my daughter's attention
practically to the exclusion of everything else (though drawing on the road
with chalks has made a showing late in the day).

By now, however, the many, many children are losing steam and balance, and
the collisions on the bouncy castle are becoming more frequent. I think it's
time to wind down but I suspect this is one of those times when we lack a
workable exit strategy.

Oh well. At least she should sleep well tonight.

Damn you leedy, trapped me in a dead end and ate my head. Join in, anyone who fancies it.

We're all out in Fitzgerald Park in the sunshine having a picnic. May ends with a real taste of summer -- the park is full of people, slow with sunshine and the day's end, sitting or lying out in t-shirts and smiles.

Sliced carrot and hummus disappear and I'm smiling too. Rowan has headed off to hide in some bushy tree. Or is it a tree-like bush?

It's positively warm here now, tucked out of the breeze, and a perfect end to an otherwise rain-soaked and chilly month.

Hello summer!

Yesterday was my daughter Rowan's 3rd birthday. sammywol made the now traditional fabric-painted t-shirt with a big number '3' on the front, surrounded by firework explosions in a variety of colours. This was the first thing Rowan put on when we came downstairs. I'd taken the day off so as to better celebrate the day.

Once sammywol and my mother, who was visiting, were up, the present opening began. Rowan really is a perfect person to give presents to. She immediately broke into "Oh wow!" and "Tank you!" before she'd got the wrapping paper off, and made an honest to goodness attempt to play seriously and intently with everything she received at some point during the day. Her trainee roller-skates were well received, much to the relief of us two, who were wondering if she'd keep us to vague promises of a bloody enormous sit-on digger or dump truck. Roller-skates are a much more elegant solution to travel requirements in an already over-stuffed house.

Later her maternal grandparents arrived and we went into town for lunch in Milano's, a pizza restaurant downtown. Milano's is very popular with Rowan, as she invariably gets to watch the pizza making, gets given a paper chef's hat, and scoffs most of a pizza all to herself. Our waiter was a saint and was particularly attentive to Rowan, providing her with said chef's hat, vanilla ice cream in a coffee cup (?) and an enormous blue balloon to take away at the end of the meal. He presented the ice cream with a birthday candle in the middle and sang "Happy Birthday" without a care for the copyright nazis.

After lunch we came home and prepared for our neighbours to drop round. Two boys, one more than a year older than Rowan, one about a year younger, both delighted to get stuck into the cake, sweets and somebody else's toys. All amused themselves for a while before the boys and their mother staggered the 15 feet down the road to their home, promising Rowan an away fixture at their place on Friday.

Rowan, sugared-up and exhausted, remarkably went to sleep without much of a fuss, obviously a much more mature girl, now she was three.

In other news Valentine's Day is hear, it's nearly 22:30 and I still haven't made my card for sammywol. I must sign off and get out the pens.