To the Captain

The past two weeks of rehearsal have been interesting as far as "serious" character development has gone. Last week I found Anne's deep want. This week, I discovered why she hangs around Frobisher. The question of if Anne had any real loyalty to Frobisher/ why does she stay with him came up.

It's not because he pays her well, because he doesn't.
It's not because he's a respectful, understanding, charitable human being...because that's not really Frobisher.
So I'm going to let you all read her answer in her own words, a bit more eloquent than the answer that I fished up at the time.

Anne's Words-

Wherefore do I remain in the service of Captain Frobisher? If you wish a honest and true answer you must give me your solemn word that you shall not disclose this information to him. For I do not think that I could face him if he did hold the knowledge of my great debt to him.
It is no secret to me that my guise and great pretend is hardly a disguise at all. While some do seek to keep me in a woman's place, or jail, I am relieved that there are many more who simply ignore the fact displayed in front of them.
Except the Captain. My Captain, it does seem, remains blind despite all manner of blunders and accidents that have transpired during the time I have been in his employ as his apprentice. There are times as such when he does slip and call me by the name of "Mr. Drew" and then a blank look crosses his face and we do resume our normal camaraderie. I cannot therefore say for certain that his is completely unaware of my true self. And I find that I do owe him my loyalty for that fact alone, that he willfully (as least, I so do assume) remains blind and chooses to believe that I, Anne Drew, am Andrew. It is by this belief on his part that I do remain as his apprentice until such a time when I have completed said apprenticeship, or some other fate does befall me (may that never come to pass, for I can think of many an unpleasant ending).
Do I wish that my Captain might one day be able to accept me as his apprentice without this great pretend? I do suppose that I wish that no matter who my master would be. However, just by the fact that he has not thrown me off of his ship for good, or killed me, or worse, is enough for the time being. I do think well of the Captain for all of his eccentric ways.

Now keep these words to yourself or else I shall cause you a mischief so that you will not easily rise from your bed for a sen'night at the least!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

So thank you to Steve- who gave me this question. And thank you to my cast for giving me a set of Hot Seat questions that almost stumped me and actually made me think. Too often I've gotten the superficial questions and this week you all gave me doozies that I am still grappling with and thinking about. Anne is not one to open up often about certain parts of her life, but I'm glad fro the chance to explore.

On the Ninth Day of Christmas there Just So Happened to Be, Nine Ladies Dancing!

On the Ninth Day of Christmas there Just So Happened to Be, Nine Ladies Dancing!

Anne endured the teasing jibes of her fellow sailors with the least amount of blushing that she could manage, which only made them tease her more about her “tumble” with Roxy. It was a well known fact that Anne liked to stay away from brothels, and Andrew always took flack for not visiting the houses of ill repute during shore time.

“So, you’re finally a man now are you Andrew?” Frobisher gave Anne such a hard slap her back that she almost choked on the mug of beer that had been handed to her moments before.

“I s’pose so Capt’n.” Anne rasped out as she caught her breath.

“Couldn’t let the men keep teasing you about being a girl.” Captain Hawkyns teased with a twinkle in his eye. Anne wrinkled her nose at her father and too a swig of beer.

“Exuse me.” Came the voice of young Daisy Crazy LeStrange, a member of the Bristol Buskin Frolic. The bells on her hat and belt jingled brightly as she bounced up and down with excitement. “We’re going to start dancing and need some men!”

“Come on Andrew!” Captain Frobisher dragged Anne from her seat. “Go dance with the girls.”

The menfolk helped to move most of the tables in the Dirty Duck Inn to the sides of the room, creating a fairly good-sized dance floor.

Those of the Bristol Buskin Frolic who played musical instruments pulled their various noise makers out from nowhere and a few more of musicians joined in starting with a lively reel.

While Daisy Crazy LeStrange dragged Anne into the dance, it soon became apparent that Anne Drew was the only “man” among the dancers. In fact, they seemed to be one lady short of ten dancers. Fiona LeSmitherfield the Fiddler was dancing in among the others while playing her fiddle.

As Anne hopped and twirled and chassed her way through the reel she wondered how much breath she’d have by the end of the dance. The musicians seemed to never want to end the weaving and turning melody. One by one dancers dropped out and were replaced by others. It came down to Daisy and Anne as the only two original dancers remaining.

Anne could hear the shouts of encouragement and teasing coming from her comrades, and she could see how Daisy was starting to tire out. Anne knew how to push through being tired from her days on the Gabriel. She also knew when to spin out of a dance, and now was not the time to be competitive.

Jumping out of the dance Anne added her voice to the triumphant cries congratulating Daisy on staying in the dance the longest. Daisy collapsed against a table and was surrounded by her friends laughing and hugging her.

The musicians gathered together for a few moments then started another country tune. Anne decided to sit out this one and catch her breath, there’d be time for more dancing later. 

Fin. 

Sorry about the short length of these last two posts. I'm battling something that's not quite a cold and writing's been tough, but I'm still plugging away! 

On the Eighth day of Christmas the Floozies Gave to Me…Eight Minutes Peace

On the Eighth day of Christmas the Floozies Gave to Me…Eight Minutes Peace

            Anne glance up (for once) at the diminutive Draco Disciple and tax collector, Vinz Clortho. “Heaven forbid you’d ever catch me breaking the law?”

            “And why would someone like you break the law?” Vinz questioned, peering over his round spectacles.

            “I don’t see how this is relevant to the occasion.” Anne avoided the question and looked to the floozies for assistance.

“Well,” Roxy Coxcomb drew a long puff from her pipe. “I think it’s a criminal offense to not be having any fun on Christmas.”

“Does Andrew want to have some fun?” Jezebel added, wiggling her…eyebrows.

Vinz frowned, but as the floozies proceeded to crack jokes about Anne’s supposed lack of experience and teaching the “lad” a thing or two, he slunk off to rejoin his fellow Dracos.

“That was nearly a disaster.” Anne sighed.

“It’s not quite over yet luv.” Chastity tilted her head towards a fairly irate Captain Frobisher.

“Can you distract him?” Anne pleaded. “I’m not going to make it through the night if the captain finds out.”

“Come with me,” Roxy brushed off her skirts and wrapped an arm around Anne’s waist. “I’m sure they’ll stop talkin’ now.”

Upstairs the din of the party was barely muffled. Anne could make out the sound of the Captains different laughs and the tunes that the Bristol Buskin Frolic was playing. She and Roxy sat in silence, waiting for a long enough time to pass before they went down among the party again. It'd been at least eight minutes.

“Any word of Fanny?” Anne asked from by the window, looking at the snow falling gently on the streets of Bristol.

“Nothing new,” Roxy sat of the edge of the bed. “Sorry dear.”

“S’alright.” Anne shrugged. “So how long do we need to stay up here before people will believe my lie again?” 

Fin.

On the Seventh Day of Christmas Anne managed to avoid…Seven potentially disastrous “out-ings”

On the Seventh Day of Christmas Anne managed to avoid…Seven potentially disastrous “out-ings”

Anne gripped the beam for dear life, hanging over a crowd of Bristol visitors and inhabitants. Thanks to Captain Drake, who had spotted the hiding place of the Cabin Boy, Anne was now giving those below her a fine view up her un-tucked shirt. This, however was not Anne’s most worrisome problem. There was the issue of how she’d actually get down from the beam.

The first problem was solved by Stretch the Sailor. Stretch was so tall that he was able to move under Anne Drew’s feet and shuffled to a supporting beam. Anne climbed down and quickly tucked her shirt back in, glancing around nervously. Most of the town of Bristol already knew her secret, but some remained a little ignorant on accounts of bad eyesight or simply not having met Anne before.

It was Estella’s expression in particular that Anne was worried about. The Draco was wavering between outrage and disappointment. Looking to do some damage control, Anne rushed over to the distraught Estella and whispered a hasty explanation in her ear.

“But you’re a girl!” Estella shouted above most of the din of the party. Unfortunately, Frobisher was in earshot and happened to turn his head towards the two young women at that very moment.

“What’s that?” He strode over in two steps. “Who’s a girl?”

“But…But…” Estella sputtered. Anne thought quick and ducked behind Frobisher and hurried to Hawkyns.

“We’ve got a problem.” Anne informed her father. “Estella knows I’m a girl and she’s about to tell Frobisher.”

“Captain Frobisher knows you’re a what Anne-Drew?” Captain Drake interjected. Since Anne had once thought that Captain Sir Francis Drake might have been her father at one time, she had never disillusioned him of the notion that she might not be male.

“I’ll explain later Francis.” Hawkyns ushered Anne away from a very confused Drake. “I’ll do damage control on Frobisher, keep by the rest of the crew for now.”

Anne found a spot by John T Hawser the Boatswain, Stretch the Sailmaker, and most of the BBF. There was a rousing round of a few dice games going on, and plenty of money was changing hands.

“Come to join us, lass?” John misspoke and Anne turned on her heel, looking for another crowd to seek safe haven with. There seemed to be quite a heated discussion between Estella and the other Dracos, with many furtive looks towards Anne. Hawkyns was still talking animatedly to Frobisher and Drake. Anne wondered if she’d last the night without another major mishap. The last time she had to out herself was when Frobisher almost took away her trouser privileges.

Surprisingly, the floozies of Bristol seemed to be low on business at the moment. Thinking that among the company of these women would be as safe as anywhere in the Duck, Anne sought a seat by Ginny Lightskirts, Jezebel Harlot, Roxy Coxbomb, and Chastity Trollop.

“I think Frobisher knows I’m a girl.” She groaned as she took her seat.

Jezebel looked up in surprise. “You’re a girl?”

“You didn’t know?” Anne raised her eyebrows in surprise. “I thought almost everyone but Frobisher knew!”

“Yes, luv.” Chastity agreed. “You’re a little too pretty to be a boy.”

“I’ve seen pretty boys before.” Roxy drawled around her pipe. “More than a few of them were girls too.”

“Besides,” Ginny comforted, “Frobisher never remembers these things for long.”

“True, but what if the Dracos catch me?”

“What if we catch you at what, Anne Drew?” Came the sneering voice of Vinz Clortho. Goosebumps erupted on Anne’s arms as the hair on the back of her neck stood up. Now she was in for it. 

Fin

After yesterday's disaster of a failure to post (yes, that is a double negative), I thought something lighthearted that I enjoyed at Bristol would be best to write about. Out-ing Anne was honestly one of my favorite bits and 7 outings in one post was quite the achievement when you're working with a two page limit. Count them, there are 7.

On the Fifth day of Christmas…The Duckies Made Me Sing, Five Sea Shanties!

On the Fifth day of Christmas…The Duckies Made Me Sing, Five Sea Shanties!

            Anne Drew wiggled through a crowed and plopped down next to John T Hawser, her fellow sailor, at the biggest table and snatched up a chicken leg from a platter of food. Everyone was crowded around this table, talking and laughing, and there was even a little bit of singing from the Bristol Buskin Frolic down at the far end.

“How’s your head Anne?” John inquired.

“Hurts a bit,” Anne admitted. She didn’t like to advertise injuries. “How’s your back?”

“It’s doing fair enough.” John nodded. The life of a sailor wasn’t easy on anyone. Each member of the crew of the Gabriel had his (or her) own small aches and pains they managed. “Nice to be back on land.”

“Can I get you gentlemen some Adam’s Ale?” asked Kate of the Dirty Duck Inn, ever ready with a pitcher of Adam’s Ale to quench the thirst of the Duck’s guests.

“Aye, please!” Anne held out her mug and Kate poured a generous amount into her cup. “Grammercy.”
            “Will ye sailors be gracing us this evening with some music, mayhap?” Kate inquired. “We haven’t had any shanties for such a long time.”

Anne and John looked to each other and shrugged. “If the Captain agrees to leadin’ I don’t see why not.” Anne looked about for Captain Frobisher. “CAPT’N!” She shouted.”

“WHAT?” Came the roaring reply from a dusky corner of the Duck.

John raised his eyebrows. “Well, you’ve distracted him.” He gave Anne a nudge.

Anne tiptoed her way over to where her Captain had been busy with Chastity Trollop. Now he was vaguely annoyed at being interrupted. Deciding to play the ignorance of her captain’s romancing, Anne took a bracing swig of Adam’s Ale. “We’ve been requested to sing some sea shanties.”

“Can’t you see I’m busy?” Frobisher protested. Chastity, however, looked mildly interested in participating with the shanties. She had a few songs of her own that got a crowd laughing and singing along.

“They promised free something-or-other.” Anne lied, taking another drink of Adam's Ale. She hoped that she could wheedle a mug of mulled cider out of Master Peter Cabot, the owner of the Dirty Duck Inn.

“Free?” Frobisher’s ears perked up.

“Why not?” Chastity stood up, to Frobisher’s great disappointment, and the trio made their way towards the main throng of guests. Kate was already standing atop a cleared table (how the ducks managed that is simply impressive and nothing short of a miracle!) and was talking up something she called the “Shipwreck Shanty Show.”

“Can I join in?” Came two voices at Anne’s elbow. Maggie Pie, and Lettuce Gardener two inhabitants of Bristol who possessed lovely singing voices. Maggie’s fellow co-worker, Lefty the Ingles-man (who spoke an extraordinary amount of Spanish for one native to London), joined the group claiming that he knew all about shanties from having lived in one.

“Why not?” Frobisher agreed. “Oy! John, get up here!”

Within minutes the small group of shanty singers had grown to a chorus, still vastly outnumbered by the guests of the Duck. With a quick word to Mast Peter Cabot about the Captain’s free drink, Anne took a perch on the edge of the table and joined into a very loud and multi-keyed rendition of “Pay Me, You Owe Me.”

Much laughter and five songs later, the Bristol Buskin Frolic took over with some merry Yuletide songs and the shanty-sing turned dispersed. Captain Frobisher, with his “free” mug of mulled cider, had sat himself by Captain Hawkyns and Drake and was regaling them with much embellished tales of his latest voyage to the arctic. John yawned and said that he thought that he’d better get some shut eye for the night while there was still a bed to rent in the Inn.

Anne found herself a solitary position, leaning against a standing beam and just taking in the warmth that emanated from not only the fire, but also the people reveling and merrymaking. It felt good to be back in Bristol. 

 Fin. 

I finished this and posted it before 9pm!!! YAY! I haven't liked needing to post things late. Makes me antsy. As always, I hope that you are enjoying these stories and shall post again tomorrow! 

On the Third Day of Christmas, Captain Hawkyns gave to me…Three Clean Shirts.

On the Third Day of Christmas, Captain Hawkyns gave to me…Three Clean Shirts.

            Contrary to the Duck’s summer open-air kitchens, they had moved into a few of the abandoned buildings that Bristol merchants had left in search of warmer climate and better markets. The Duck was full to the brim with the inhabitants and visitors of Bristol. The sounds of laughter, singing, and drinking abounded.

            Frobisher’s face lit up like the starry sky as he spotted a disgruntled Chastity sauntering towards him. “Chastity!”

            “You owe me money!” Chastity brandished her walking cane at the captain.

“Do I?” Frobisher looked to his cabin “boy.” “Andrew, do I owe Chastity money?”

Anne Drew, ever one to ally herself with the right parties (how else did she keep Frobisher blind as a bat to her cross dressing), nodded and smiled at the curly haired floozy, “He does owe you.” She said through chattering teeth. Chastity took one look at the sopping cabin boy (we shall remind the readers of Anne’s dip in Lake Elizabeth in Part 1).

“Thought so, so cough it up!” Chastity held out her hand, waiting.

Frobisher sighed and pulled a coin purse from out of his codpiece. This made Anne dissolve into fits of giggles and Frobisher stared at his cabin boy in alarm. “Andrew! Why are you giggling? That’s not manly at all!”

“Sorry, sir!” Anne Drew coughed, trying to stop giggling and ending her spasms in a fit of sneezing. “Couldn’t help it.”

Just as Frobisher was about to, grudgingly, hand over coinage to Chastity, a booming voice came from the entrance. “Frobisher!”

Now both Anne and Frobisher cringed. The voice was none other than that of Captain John Hawkyns, rival of Captain Frobisher and supposed biological father of Anne Drew. “When I had Anne Drew sign onto your crew I expected you to make better care of her…erm…him.” Hawkyns clapped a firm hand on Anne’s shoulder. Anne cringed, she hadn’t spoken to Hawkyns since she had run away from her short stint of respectable l ife.

“Why does everyone think my cabin boy looks like a bleedin’ girl!” Frobisher whined. “This is exactly why you need hair on your chest Andrew! It’s bad enough that you like shaving your whiskers every day!”

“Is there a fire somewhere that I can get warm by?” Anne piped up, wanting to make as fast an exit from this conversation as possible.

“Bob left some clothes in my trunk upstairs.” Hawkyns gripped Anne’s arm and dragged her towards the stairs. “Get us some beer Frobisher!”

“How about payin’ me first, luv?” Chastity wrapped her arm around her favorite Captain and Anne lost sight of the two as Hawkyns led her upstairs.

Inside Captain Hawkyn’s room Anne shed her cloak and plopped herself in front of the fire to warm her frozen fingers, keeping an eye on her father. Hawkyns strode over to his trunk and threw open the lid, digging through shirts and clothing to find whatever garb Bob had left behind.

“Here, Anne.” Hawkyns handed Anne several shirts and a pair of slops. “You can have them.”

“You’re not mad, are you?”

“I would have appreciated more than a letter.” Hawkyns ruffled Anne’s hair making her wince when he hit the lump forming beneath her hair. “I didn’t really think you’d stick around long.”

“Like father like daughter?” Anne tried a smile and looked over the clothes. “You don’t need’em back?”

“Bob left with the circus!” Hawkyns growled in exasperation. “Never trust a jester Anne.”

“Can you do me a favor?” Anne began to peel off her doublet, boots, and stockings. “I told Frobisher there was free beer.”

Hawkyns laughed and ran his hand through his hair. “Now why on God’s earth would you do that?”

“Estella. Foxglove.” Anne used one of the new shirts as a tent as she switched the cold wet one for the dry linen.

“Is that how you got so wet?” Hawkyns turned around so that Anne could switch her trousers.

“Frobisher got enthusiastic and threw me in Lake Elizabeth.” Anne fumbled with the ties of the slops, but managed to get them on and slung her belt round her waist. “I’m decent.”

“Ah,” Hawkyns sighed as he turned back around to face his fiery haired offspring dressed in his old cabin boy’s garb. “You sure you still want to serve with him?”

“He might be an idiot some days, but he’s a good Captain.” Anne admitted, pulling on one of Bob’s old vests. “I think I need a drink. I’ll manage with bare feet till my boots dry out.”

“Shall we?” Hawkyns held out the door and Anne slipped past him, taking the stairs in twos back to the Christmas Party. 

Fin

I finished this only about five minutes ago, and with a quick proof read from my BestFriend Bombalurina- here you go! Hopefully tomorrow I will not procrastinate so much. I'm trying to hold myself to deadlines and learn how to write well using deadlines. I'm hoping that this isn't total rubbish. 

On the Second Day of Christmas the Dracos Gave to Me...Two (or more) Snow Balls

On the Second Day of Christmas, The Draco’s Gave To Me…Two (or more) Snow Balls. 

Anne Drew and Captain Frobisher had not gotten past the lonely maypole of Bristol, nigh unto the Towne Square Pub, when they were assailed by half a dozen well aimed snowballs. The shouts of two Draco Disciples could be heard from the pub’s balcony, namely Liam Bloodroot and Estella Foxglove.

“Happy Christmas Anne-Drew!” Estella sang out in lovelorn tones. Anne tried her best to shrink behind her Captain. Dealing with Estella, one of the few oblivious to Anne’s true gender, on any normal day was a tricky thing. Soaked to the bone from her dip in the lake and a lump forming on the side of her head, Anne wanted to get away from the infatuated villainess as soon as possible.

Captain Frobisher, ever oblivious to Anne’s plight, pushed his cabin boy in front and elbowed Anne in the ribs. “Be polite and wish Estella a Happy Christmas!”

“HappyChristmasEstella.” Anne muttered, pulling her sodden hat low over her eyes.

“Louder!” Instructed Frobisher, who seemed doomed to talk in exclamation points.

“Happy. Christmas. Estella.” Anne made to turn on her heel and was greeted with a snowball in her back from a sneaky Vinz Clortho. “Oy!” Anne drew her belaying pin on the diminutive Draco. 

“Now, now…” Vinz sneered. “Wouldn’t want to get hasty like that Anne Drew.” He might have been short, but Vinz was as sharp as a pin and as scary as a potter, whatever that might mean.

“No dueling on festival days Andrew, you know the laws.” Captain Frobisher confiscated Anne’s belaying pin. “Besides, we’ve already paid all of our taxes.”

“So why are the Dracos hitting us with snow balls?” Anne demanded.

“We couldn’t cause a blizzard in Bristol because of those confounded witches.” Liam explained. “However, we can pelt everyone with evil!”

“Snowballs?” Anne said, disbelieving. “Really? That’s what you call evil?”

“Or we could throw you in jail for cross dressing.” Vinz shrugged as he began to pack another handful of snow. Captain Frobisher looked down at his manly attire and then at his cabin boy, clearly confused as to who the Dracos might be referring.

“Andrew isn’t cross dressing!” He protested. “Just that one time he wore a skirt, and that was for a stage act! It was perfectly legal!” The Captain turned to his cabin boy, “Is there anything you aren’t telling me, Andrew?” Anne rolled her eyes and ducked to avoid another snowball coming from Estella.

“I’m hitting you with snowballs because I love you!” Estella threw another one that hit Anne on her frost covered shoulder. “Got any mistletoe Liam?”

“I’m not kissing you!” Liam protested and Estella slugged Liam in the arm.

“I wouldn’t kiss you, you ninny! I want to kiss him!” She pointed eagerly at the cringing cabin boy.  

Anne looked around for a quick escape, right now it seemed like her fate was to either freeze to death or snog Estella, and neither of those options sounded particularly appealing (no offense to Estella, she’s a lovely girl, just not Anne’s type).

“Yes Captain, there is something I’ve been meaning to tell you.” Anne took a deep breath. “I think I’m going to turn into an icicle if I stand here any longer. We’d better hurry to the duck if we don’t want to freeze.”

Captain Frobisher balked, “Nonsense Andrew, this is much balmier than the arctic! You’re just trying to avoid Estella.”

“What if I told you that I heard word about a buy one beer get three free deal at the duck that was on a first come first serve basis to their Christmas customers?”

Captain Frobisher was already barreling ahead at the mention of free booze before Anne could finish her sentence. Never mind that Anne had fabricated the whole thing. Maybe she'd get to the duck in enough time that her extremities wouldn't freeze off.

Fin

Check tomorrow for Part 3 and Thank You All for reading!

On the First Day of Christmas, My Captain Gave to Me...A Bruise in the Serengeti

Twas Christmas In Bristol: 

Episode 1: On the First Day of Christmas, My Captain Gave to Me...A Bruise in the Serengeti (Aka Newmarket).

Anne slung her pack over her shoulder and tripped down the gangplank to the docks. “Careful there, Andrew!” Captain Frobisher barked. “You can’t get drunk before I do!”

“Not plannin’ on it sir!” AnneDrew laughed and shivered a bit as the breeze caught the gap in her cloak. Tonight was the gathering of many of the Bristol towne folk at the Dirty Duck Inn for a special Christmas feast that the Ducks had invited everyone too attend. With the promise of floozies (especially one, Chastity Trollop) and strong drink, Frobisher was not one to miss such a gathering.

Seeing the city of Bristol all covered in a light dusting of snow (everyone suspected the Weird sisters of holding off a blizzard that almost was brought down on the city by the Draco disciples) was a new sight for young Anne. Sure, London had its grey and slushy covering every late November through March, but it wasn’t anything like the six inches of pure white coating Newmarket (t’was a bit chilly to call that area the “Serengeti” at the moment).

All of a sudden, Anne found herself being hoisted and thrown off the dock and into the freezing Lake Elizabeth. Not only was this lake of icy temperature, it was also coated with a thin layer of ice. Anne came up sputtering to hear the booming laugh of her Captain.

Shivering, Anne crawled up the banks and shouted, “What was THAT for?” Her head was pounding and Anne felt a lump forming on the side of her skull. “Really Captain, we all know you’re as strong as an ox.” Anne silently added that some days, the Captain seemed as thick as one too. Anyone with a bit of sense would know better than to throw a man (or woman, in Anne’s case) off of a dock into freezing water. However, Frobisher was never one to pay attention to that governing shared consciousness called “common sense.” He’d argue that he was anything but common, and in many ways (and definitions of that word), he was right.

“You need to grow some hair on your chest!” Frobisher laughed and thumped Anne on the back. “Besides, a little water never killed anyone!”

“Hypothermia might.” Anne muttered.

“What’s that?”

“Do we have any coal Captain?...I forgot to fill one of the stockings on board ship.” Each of the crew’s members would wake on Christmas morn’ to find a stocking full of coal (and maybe a bit of paper that would count for an extra ration of ale along with some sausage). While some might find this gift a mark of a year of bad behavior, the crew was always delighted to receive such a practical gift that would keep them warm up in the arctic sea.

“That can wait Andrew, let’s get to the Duck! FOR WARD!” Frobisher shouted and with his codpiece leading the way, Captain Frobisher and AnneDrew started on their journey (dedicated to the elusive Ward) towards the Dirty Duck Inn with the promise of warm food and the possible prevention of hypothermia. 

Fin

Well that starts of my 12 Days of a Bristol Christmas series. Check tomorrow for more fun!

Anne's Log- The Reveal!

Anne tried desperately to crawl out of the grave she’d now dug for herself.

“But Captain!” She protested with more than an edge of desperation in her voice, “I didn’t mean too!”

Only moments before had Anne blundered into a game of Towers that Captain Frobisher was about to win. Now Captain Hawkyns and Captain Drake were splitting the money that Captain Frobisher didn’t have. Anne picked herself up from amid the blocks she had toppled over with and scooted away from her irate employer.

“I don’t care!” Captain Frobisher roared. Anne dashed in between the other captains, using them as a buffer. She wondered why she had let the Captain into the wine so early in the morning, even if it was a festival day. “Get back over here!”

Anne slowly trod towards her captain, ready to duck and cover or run as fast as her legs could carry her. Captain Frobisher had lifted men bigger than her clear over his head and tossed them off the ship. “It is a festival day, Captain.” Anne said hopefully, “Mayhap we can simply forget about this?” It was a stretch and Anne knew it.

“Certainly not.” Captain Frobisher insisted. “I’m revoking your land privileges and you’re going to get ten lashes.”

Anne steeled herself. She could take a whip so long as the captain didn’t find out she was a girl. “Administered by whom?” She couldn’t help the quaver in her voice.

Captain Frobisher looked at Anne like it was the most idiotic question in the world. “Me!”

Flailing around for words Anne sputtered out “But you can’t!”

“What do you mean I can’t! I’m the captain! You’ve got to learn to take punishment like a man, I’ve been much too lax on you.”

Anne looked to Hawkyns and Drake. Hawkyns seemed ready to jump into action, but as always he waited to see what Anne would do. Anne had told him in no uncertain terms that she could take care of herself.

“But Captain!”

“What?” Captain Frobisher was already starting to walk away from the towers. “Come on, I haven’t got all day.”

Anne tried to find an excuse, “It’ll ruin my shirt!” Was all that she could come up with?

“That doesn’t matter- you don’t need it anyway, Andrew!” Captain Frobisher stared at Anne with annoyance. “Just take it off now!”

“I can’t!”

“Why not?”  Captain Frobisher pulled at Anne’s arm. “You’re not going to get any blood on it. Act like a man, Andrew!”

“I’m a girl!” Anne blurted. Everything seemed to stand still for a moment.

Captain Frobisher blinked. “What?”

Anne looked to Drake, who looked astonished. Then she looked to Hawkyns, who looked a little surprised. Then she looked back her Captain, who looked skeptical. “I’m a girl, Captain.”

“You lied to me!”

“Not technically.” Anne wheedled. “I never said I wasn’t a girl.”

“I distinctly told you girls are bad luck on ships!” Captain Frobisher protested.

Anne nodded, “But you never asked if I was a girl.”

“Naturally I assumed you’d be a boy!”

“Martin.” Hawkyns interrupted. “Do you recall my cabin boy ‘Bob?’”

Captain Frobisher gaze Hawkyns the same annoyed look he had given Anne moments earlier. “Of course! Rather rubbish of you keeping a girl on board.”

“I had my reasons.”

“We all knew your reasons.” Anne couldn’t help herself. Hawkyns gave her a cautioning glance.

“Glass houses, Anne.”

“WAIT!” Frobisher burst between the two. “Anne-Drew.” He looked at Anne in shock. “That’s a boy’s name!”

Captain Hawkyns rolled his eyes and stepped in between the increasingly outraged Frobisher and the petrified Anne. “Oh, come now, Martin.”

“You’re not just getting a whipping!” Frobisher yelled. “I think a good old fashioned keelhauling is in order.”

Hawkyns put his hand protectively on Anne’s shoulder. “As Anne’s father, I take responsibility for her actions and forbid you to touch her.”

Anne and Frobisher looked at Hawkyns in disbelief. “Father?” In reality, thought Anne might have played her cards to gain a little from each Captain by teasing how they might be her father, she had no idea which of these famous captains her father was.

Hawkyns’ pulled a piece of paper out of his doublet and handed it to Anne. “That is my signature, isn’t it?”

Anne glanced at the paper,

I, Father Peter of the church of England, do provide witness to the baptismal and christening of this child, Anne Drew, born to John Hawkyns, Captain, and Fanny Drew, a most common woman, on the seventh day of September anno domino 1556. While this child is not of a legitimate union, both parties do recognize parentage and accept responsibility of this child and do claim the child to be their own.

Witnessed By

Father Peter

Fanny Drew               John Hawkyns

            “While your mother might have had copies of this particular letter.” Hawkyns raised an eyebrow at Anne, who almost blushed from embarrassment. “I do claim you as my child, since it seems that you finally have gotten yourself into a scrape you can’t get out of.”

“John!” Captain Frobisher sputtered, trying to make sense of everything that he had learned in the last three minutes. “This doesn’t make any sense!”

“What doesn’t make sense Captain?” Anne asked exasperatedly. Hawkyns gave her a look that told her to let him do the talking.

Frobisher looked at the ground in an attitude of deep thought. “Wait…” He said as he put two and two together, “You’ve been a girl this whole time.”

“Yes.”

“How many people knew?”

“Everyone but you Captain.” Anne grumbled. It hadn’t been her plan.

“Am I really that thick?”

“Come along Anne.” John Hawkyns held out his hand to his newly recognized daughter. “Let’s go get your things from the ship, you need to get some women’s clothes.”

“I don’t own any.” Anne winced at the thought of losing the freedom that trousers and a doublet had given her. “What about the Captain?”

“He’ll work it out eventually.”

Anne looked over her shoulder at the dumb-struck Captain Frobisher. To be honest she didn’t have much of an understanding of what just happened either. Still, something inside of her leapt with joy that she belonged to someone.

However, something inside her said that her adventures had only just begun. She’d need to keep her boy clothes around just in case.

Oh Captains, My Captains

This weekend Anne will finally have her father.
Not that she hasn't had the BEST group of dads a girl could ask for during the season, but let me explain.
I've had the time of my life taunting and "blackmailing" the Captains into thinking that Anne is their child. Some of my favorite bits are just dragging people into the absurdity of my story because patrons have said some pretty crazy things. However, as time went on, Anne started to feel a bit lonely at her uncertain familial status.
Stupid me letting my character run away and develop a bit too much, but Anne really wants to belong to someone. Not just speculation and half serious ownership on the part of the Captains, but someone who would take Anne in. Not Andrew, but Anne.
Amazing the things I learn about human nature. How basic is this feeling of wanting to belong to someone? To have a father who cares about you and calls you his own (even if you are a girl). Fathers are SO important. Note the underline/italicize/boldface.

I am lucky to have a father who loves me and my real life Daddy and I have a great relationship. He read me novels like Tom Sawyer and To Kill a Mockingbird when I was little and introduced me to Star Wars and the Blues Brothers. Almost every year throughout Jr. High and Highschool we've gone to a father/daughter date night that our church organizes. My dad flew with me down to Florida so I could audition for the dance program at a college and we spent about three days exploring Palm Springs.
I have a fantastic real life Dad.

To all the Captains (and other seafaring gentleman) at the Faire- 
You have all been like Uncles, Brothers, and Cousins to me. Through you I have learned to hold my own place, because you are a hard group to break into and hold your own in. I've had to keep my wits about me and be ready to figure out some way to tie up loose ends and loopholes so that you ALL have to acknowledge the fact that Anne just might be your child. You've taught me about maritime history and how to act like a man (or at least ham it up).

Thank you for taking in a girl to your world of men and really bringing me into your circle when I thought I might just be hanging out on the outskirts, not wanting to intrude. Whoops- wouldn't you know it? I intruded and hung up my hammock to stay!

I already know who Anne's real father is. Part of it came down to the fact that I'm a historical nut and this person made the most sense historically.
I want you all to know, that even if you aren't my dad (I'm still trying to keep this a surprise, otherwise I'd be frank), I consider all of you like family to me and love you all like Uncles and Brothers. I'd say you've been like Fathers to me, but my daddy already fills that space in my heart. Thank you all for the best summer of my life.

I can't wait to see what this last weekend will bring in the way of shenanigans. You have been warned from your trouble making "son." AnneDrew.

My family

So, apart from my VERY dysfunctional character family (Think Mamma Mia in Elizabethan England), I have found the most amazing family in the people that I work with.

Let's see....
I've found a few mother and father type figures, several siblings, aunts and uncles- not to mention those awkward cousins who I wonder if I'm really related to but I love anyway so I must be related to them.

This Sunday I woke up after a MARVELOUS Saturday and my world crashed down around me. My Grandpa Jones will never be able to see what I've done in Ren Faire. I can't tell him (physically) about how much I've learned or what my plans are or how amazing all of these people are.

For anyone who doesn't know by now, summer after my junior year in high School, June 21, my Grandpa died.
Our birthdays are one day apart. I like to think that my Grandpa and I had a special bond. There were a lot of things about him that I didn't realize we had in common until I heard about them at his funeral.
I miss him a lot. I know that his passing when he did was probably a good thing and spared him a lot of pain. He had senior dementia and it was hard for all of us. Whenever I hear bagpipes I think of him, and owls are sort of symbolic of my Grandpa. He carved the most beautiful things out of wood and owls were one of his favorites.

So I go up to Ren Faire really just trying to keep myself together. During morning meeting I drew an owl in my Captains Log and tried to keep it together. Then I went back to the green room and tried to keep myself together. I'm pretty good at shutting everything off and keeping myself together. I tried to bring out my character when playing Towers with Hawkyns and Frobisher, but it really wasn't working. This is what happens when I shut down. Non-functional not good stuff. I was ready to label the day as a "fake it till you make it" type day.
I ended up backstage in the Pole Barn just needing some space to breathe and possibly cry. One of my friends who plays Jinx the over sized Jester asked if I wanted to talk and was very nice when I couldn't really bring myself to do so because I knew I'd pretty much lose it. John came in and I got asked again if I wanted to talk about it. By this time I had my hat over my head and pulled low over my face because I was starting to cry.

Let's get another thing straight. I don't cry easily. Some people will cry at the drop of a hat. I used to have a complex where I saw crying as being weak, but only if I was the one crying. I'm over that but I still don't cry easily.
I can't lie to these people. I just can't. It's pretty much impossible for me to be dishonest around any of the rennies because if I was I'd feel so awful I'd rat myself out. So I started to talk about how I miss my Grandpa. I wish I could tell him things without talking to the air. I knew there would be certain milestones in life that he won't be there for (like my wedding), but I wasn't expecting to be upset that I can't tell him about Faire. I'm sure I said a few other things but your brain gets foggy and your nose gets rather stuffy when you're crying.

John and Jinx were great. They gave me support and didn't try to say "I understand." John actually made a point of saying that he doesn't know what I'm feeling, but he's lost people too and we do go through these moments. He said that Ren Faire is probably the safest and most supporting place to have a moment like the one I was having.
They said how proud they were of me, and how proud they know my Grandpa is of me. Even if I can't see him, he can see me, which I do believe (still sucks on my end of the deal). Then Lettuce came in and asked who she needed to kill and sat with us for a little while as I finished calming down and we had a good laugh about how these types of moments never happen when it's convenient. 

The first rehearsal for Street Cast I went too, I was sitting by myself on the benches before things started. I heard an owl hooting.









Just as a side note- the rest of my dad was fantastic and I had so many laughs and fun times. This summer has passed too quickly. Thank you to all of my family in RenFaire. I don't think I've been able to trust people so much or so quickly as I have with all of you. I can't wait for the next two weekends and the new adventures they will bring.

The Red Ribbon, Earring, and Shell Necklace.

The Red Ribbon, Earring, and Shell Necklace.

“What have you got there Andrew?” John piped up from across the galley. Anne tried to stash the earing she’d been gazing at, but Captain Frobisher’s hand caught her wrist before she could hide the bauble.

“Ah-ha!” Captain Frobisher laughed, “I knew you had a girl somewhere, Andrew!”

Anne’s brain raced, “It’s nothing sir.” She tried to twist her arm away but Captain Frobisher plucked the earing out of her hand and held it up to the lamplight.

“This is quite the pretty piece. Who’d it belong to?” While the rest of the crew knew of Anne’s disguise, the captain was still blind and Anne preferred to keep it that way.  Whether through brotherly friendship or bullying she had gotten the crew on her side, but she hardly knew how Frobisher would react to finding out that his ship’s boy and protégé was a lass. 

“A girl back home. We’re promised to each other.” Anne supplied quickly, hoping that it would shut the captain up. The Captain handed the earing back to her. “I don’t think she’ll wait around long, might even be married by the time we get back, she is a few years older than me.” Anne heard a few of the men snicker and she gave them a vicious glare, which only made them chuckle more.

“An older woman?” The Captain roared with laughter.  “You’ll learn Andrew,” Captain Frobisher swung an arm around Anne’s shoulders, “women are as changeable as the tides and plentiful as the fish in the sea. We’ll just find you another one, won’t we men?” The crew gave a resounding assortment of cheers and laughter.

“Sir, I’m only sixteen! I went to sea to get away from women!” Anne protested, only making her situation worse. “I appreciate the offer captain, but-“

Frobisher waved Anne’s pleas away with a punch to her shoulder, “No buts Andrew! When we dock in Bristol the first order of business is to find you a buxom lass to have some fun with.”

“As you wish Captain.” Anne rolled her eyes and ducked out from the galley and scurried away to her hammock. It seemed funny to her how she’d grown up around men all her life, and yet she had barely known anything about men until she had signed on with a crew of them. Once there she pulled out the earing again and looked over the small metal hoop with the glass bead embedded inside. It had been one of her mother’s things, a mismatched earing that Anne had played with since she’d been young. It had been a bracelet until Anne’s wrist had grown too large for the opening. It was the only thing she carried of her mother.

Anne’s hand found the shell that hung from a string around her neck and she gave the good luck charm a small squeeze. Once again she’d just barely escaped another awkward situation with the Captain and crew. Captain Frobisher was mostly bluff and blunder anyway.

“You all right lass?” John’s head peeked over the edge of Anne’s hammock and she nodded. “Whose earring is it?”

“Mine. Same as the ribbon.” Anne stashed the earing and rolled out of her hammock. “Does the captain need me?”

“We’ve got watch now, c’mon.” John patted Anne on the shoulder and the two of them headed up to scan the horizon. 

Look for the last installment of "Anne's Clothes" tomorrow- The Shirt. Hope you have enjoyed reading these little stories, if you've missed any just look for the tag "Anne's Clothes" to find the rest of them! 

The Knife and The Belay Pin, the Pouch, and the Journal and Pencil

Today's first post reviews how Anne got a hold of that knife you see her wearing. Look for the post later tonight (I think around 9pm) about various little trinkets that Anne carries. These two posts are pretty short so I thought that they'd make a good single post length.

The Knife

            “You’ve got a knife, lad?” The boatswain, John, asked. Anne’s hand went to her belt and nodded, feeling the wooden handle in her palm. “Let’s see you use it then." Anne drew her blade and sawed away at the rope John had told her to cut.  “Where’d you get it?”

“Someone threw it into a wall.” Anne summarized as she drew her arm back and forth. It wasn’t a lie, the knife had been thrown, probably by a drunk thug, and had stuck in the wall of the inn she stayed at the night before. When no one came running after it, Anne pulled it out of the framework and made it her own. “Will it do?”

“It’ll do quite well, I think.” John caught the two pieces of rope and Anne stashed the knife back in her belt. The boatswain noted the ribbon that the cabin lad secured his new weapon with. “Got a girl back home, then?”

“What?” Anne looked at the boatswain with alarmed eyes and looked back at her knife. “Oh…erm…aye.” She lied, hoping that no one would question her too much about the few baubles she carried.

The Belay Pin, the Pouch, and the Journal and Pencil

Captain Frobisher’s papers were a mess. How the man had managed to keep the ship running with everything out of order, Anne couldn't fathom. She spent a good hour just putting everything in order and another two hours deciphering the captain’s haphazard scrawl and spelling. Everything needed to be re-logged into the leather bound journal she had found at the bottom of the writing desk. Captain Frobisher, while an accomplished sailor to say the least, was absolute rubbish when it came to keeping track in documentation.

A severe hand cramp caused Anne to put a pause in her copy work. She folded the page she had stopped writing at. Carefully she slid the journal and pencil into the pouch Stretch the sail maker had helped her to sew out of some old clothes. It wasn't as if Anne didn't already know how to sew, but if she was going to try and act like a boy she wanted to at least seem ignorant of sewing. 

The sound of the boatswain’s whistle “all hands on deck” resounded round the ship and sent Anne running out of the captain’s room. Before Anne knew it the crew where all rushing at her and she leap up among the rigging, not stopping her climb until she reached the crow's nest. She didn't come down until the men promised not to haze her any more and went back about their work.

No one noticed that during the next week they were short one belaying pin, or if anyone did notice the appearance of the new item on “Andrew’s” belt, none of the sailors said anything. Even if she did have a knife, Anne felt it was better to be safe than sorry.

Come back around 9pm!

The Boots

The Boots

             Captain Hawkyns pulled a pair of boots out of a trunk and held them out to Anne. “Try these on…lad.” He shook the boots a little when Anne hesitated and she slowly took the shoes from the captain. “Now tell me,” Captain Hawkyns eyed Anne with a curious gaze, “Where do you come from Anne Drew?”

“London.” Anne answered, pulling the leather over her feet. “Nearby Fleet Street.” She looked up to gage the Captain’s reaction. While Hawkyns didn’t give too much pause, his eyes flickered and Anne took a chance, “My mother’s name is Frances Drew, most people know her as Fanny.”

“Dear God.” Anne heard Captain Hawkyns mutter under his breath before he managed a quick recovery, “How old are you lass?”

“Sixteen. Seventeen in September.” Anne could see Hawkyns counting in his mind, she held her breath and waited. Hawkyns looked at Anne with a mix of awe, confusion, and suspicion. Anne had to admit there was not much of a resemblance between the two of them, maybe the eyes or the structure of their noses. “How’d you know I was a girl?”

“You’d have to be blind not to see it, lass.” Hawkyns shook his head, “However, you’d do well to sign onto Frobisher’s crew, I could even help you to keep him blind, not that he isn't already.”

“Why would you do that?” Anne blurted.

Hawkyns gave Anne a smile. “I take care of my men, Anne Drew. Especially the ones who are like unto family to me. How do those boots fit?”

Anne grinned ruefully, she might be able to get something out of being a captain’s daughter after all. At least she’d get a lot more help out of Hawkyns. Maybe letting “Bob” tell Hawkyns about her secret wasn’t such a bad thing after all.  

Tomorrow brings the stories of Anne's knife and jewelry.  Hope anyone who reads these little stories is enjoying them!

The Belt, Mug, and Pouch

 An apology about the last story. 

As I wrote these I had not learned a few slightly important historical facts that would have influenced Anne's life. Therefore, if there are any odd changes throughout these stories, it's because this character is a work in progress than these stories are simply because I wanted to put them somewhere. 

Reading over them, it's not my best work, but I am dedicated to posting them and will try to do last minute edits to make these stories slightly more cohesive and comprehensible.

The Belt, Mug, and Small Pouch

The sound of voices below made Anne hurry in donning her disguise. The boy's clothing felt odd next to her skin, she could breathe much more easily than in a bodice and the slops were half the weight of one skirt. Even odder was the feeling of her shorter hair. Anne couldn't remember a time when her hair was so short that it only brushed her shoulders. It was tucked up under a muffin cap that was pulled down low on her forehead.

Anne was thankful for the small pressure her belt created. The small leather pouch hanging from her belt held all money she was going to bring. Anne wished she had a better pouch, but this would have to do. There was less than a minute before her mother's new visitor climbed the stairs. It wouldn't do to find a "boy" in her mother's room.

 To spend one night on the street and then go down to the docks as soon as daylight broke was Anne's plan. Her hand found her mug and reassured herself of its heft and weight. It would make a suitable weapon until she could find another one.

“Frobisher, Hawkyns, Drake, Wynter.” Anne muttered to herself. The sailors would know of those men even if she had no idea who they were. One of them had to be her father.

Look later tonight for the story of how Anne got her doublet!

How to get a Captain out of jail

This was prompted by a street bit that I did on Saturday where I asked patrons how to get Captain Frobisher out of jail without having to pay the bail money. I combined all of the ideas into one fantastic escape attempt! 

Anne's log Monday July the 23rd

Today we plan to break Captain Frobisher out of jail. We do not wish to pay bail since it would require the crew to forgo our own pay and most of the men haven't been paid yet. We have yet to find where the Captain keeps our pay, though Captain Hawkyns did leave a few clues. I have since asked many people who are versed in the art of escape and they have given me many ideas as how to sneak the Captain out of jail without actually paying the guards.

Firstly, the crew should try to bring gifts of strong beverages that will make the guards drunk and unable to understand fully what we are about. Then some guards will be served stew with herbs that will turn their stomachs sour and they shall have need to leave their posts to empty their stomachs or bowels, whichever ailment the herb shall cause. Then John and Stretch shall set a rat (or two) on fire and distract the remaining guards as I slip into the jail and find the Captain.
As soon as that has been done, the rest of the crew shall disguise themselves as farmers and with the aide of a borrowed herd of cows, send the cows into a frenzy charging towards the jail. The crew shall behave as if they lost control of their herd and will require the guards assistance in rounding up the beasts. While this distraction is going on, I shall unlock the Captain's cell (since I have acquired the key from the pickpocket Maggie Pie), and we shall run out the back entrance to a waiting straw filled wagon and I shall drive off with the Captain Frobisher hiding under the straw.

However, if worst comes to worst and our plans do not succeed we shall try the use of gunpowder to blow up the wall of the Captain's cell and hope that he does not perish in the process.

Fortunately, the crew's plan is put on hold as Captain Sir John Hawkyns has just sent me a message saying he is seeing to the release of Captain Frobisher this evening and I should ready the crew for the Captain's return.


Hope you all enjoyed the idea of the charging cows! It was my personal favorite.

A sadly short post about opening Weekend

Apologies for the long wait, I came straight home from opening weekend at BRF and woke up on Monday morning to go and be an intern for Spotlight Youth Theater's Project Dance Camp. There shall be a post about that on my Astonishing blog shortly.
In short, the camp went through Friday and I didn't have time (or energy) Friday night to write anything. However, I have made use of my "Captain's Log" and wrote down many things that I discovered on the first weekend.


~Opening Weekend~
I was extremely nervous. Like can't eat breakfast, think you might throw up or pass out nervous. I wasn't as nervous as I was for the audition for BRF, where I was about to burst into tears (says the girl who does not cry), but I was pretty darn close.
Luckily, I have the most supportive cast in the WORLD to work with. I haven't interacted with anyone who tries to shut me down during a bit.
Even more important, I'm working with a Captain who not only shows me the ropes, but pushes me out and makes me start things (mostly wooing). When you've been portraying a Captain for several years, you ought to be at least good at it by now, but my Captain is more than good, he's brilliant! I swear I'll come up with a more descriptive word once my brain comes back from a 9 day marathon of physical activity.

Speaking of the physical side of being at BRF, the first weekend wasn't too bad. I took plenty of small 5 to 10 minute breaks, even if it was just sitting down on the Street and giving "free advise." I also downed enough Adam's Ale to have to visit the privies more times that I want to count (or admit) right now. I also made sure that I was snacking on salty things and drinking lots of "gator's aide" to replenish all the good stuff you need from that. The soup at the Dirty Duck Inn pretty much saves me every luncheon (sometime after 1pm) and keeps me going through the afternoon.

So now the things that I learned the first weekend- or was reminded of.

Reminder- If you aren't Failing 50% of the time, you aren't trying hard enough. (Note: Fail more).
Lesson- Simply talking to people is good. You don't always need a bit to make a connection.
Observation- Frobisher's mustache might poke his eyes out one day if it keeps getting longer.
Lesson- Every time you stretch yourself you find how elastic you truly are.

My first weekend was a plethora of discovery and sad to say: a lot of playing it safe. I took more risks the second weekend (also I found more of my character the second weekend). I can still take lots of more risks and am making a point to try and do so. I don't want to hide behind my Captain, I want to be able to work alongside of him. Even though I was told that I did very well on opening weekend, I knew deep down that there were times where my lack of self confidence got to me and I let the Captain take much more of a lead than I might have. Especially on the first day when I was excited but really had almost no idea how the day would go.

A note about my Captain for those of you who haven't met him, and even those who have: I really could not have asked for a better person to learn from and work with. Simply finding out how to hold my own around him when he's being the larger than life personality of Captain Frobisher has been a very good exercise. Combine that with the fact that he's pushed me out and made me take control of what we're doing a few times (which was terrifying, but in a good way), each day is a mental marathon as well as a physical one. All of this has made me a better performer and made me less self conscious and more able to just let go and let the scene go where it wants to!
My Captain, if he has taught me anything, has taught me the importance of "yes and." We've done some ridiculous things and it's all because we both just kept on saying "Yes, and." There were times were in my head I said "Really? Really? You want me to do what?" But then my other mind kicked in and said "This is funny! Let's go with it!" Point and example- wooing. It took me two weeks to become comfortable enough to simply make myself as ridiculous as possible and invoke "Venus' knees" as a compliment during a wooing. Don't ask where that came from...I have no clue.

Things that worked this week-
My mustache bit where I go about with a drawn on mustache and ask people how to grow better facial hair.
Asking men for advice on how to be manly (works really well with teenage guys).
My no cannibalism allowed contract. 3 times in four days and each the time reaction has been different, it's fantastic!

I promise that I will write another post about the most recent weekend, but that will come later today. There were many things that happened on the first weekend, but the second weekend only gets better.