The final cannon has sounded and for another year the faire is done. It is always a sad thing to hear that last cannon, but at the same time it is such a relief. When you give up your weekends four months you find that you are desperate for a break. At the same time when you bond so closely with a group of people the idea of suddenly not seeing them every week is almost distressing.
I will miss my Saturday nights in the hotel. I will miss the tailgate after a long day. I will miss Sunday night dinners telling war stories. I will miss roaming around the lanes harassing the patrons. I will miss the wild stories that were a result of the Gypsy Extravaganza. I will miss gypsy lunches with Vadim throwing eggshells at people, hurriedly passed trays of food, and patrons gawking at us as we ate.
I will miss my friends.
I will miss my character too. Astra, much like all of my characters, is just as much a friend as anyone else. She is warm and familiar, and a place I can escape to when the world is just too much. She lets me rest while she comes out to play.
As I walked slowly to the gate to the keep on Monday evening she became smaller and smaller. A scene played out in my head as she sadly began to break camp and head North to Scotland and wherever else the road will take the vitsa until next spring arrives and they can make camp in Pickering forest and descend down into Scarborough once more.
It was a good season. I won a character of the day mug on my birthday. It was very rewarding since I won it for a day that was by far one of my best performance days ever. I watched the husbeast truly grow as a performer and explode onto the faire this year. I saw as he was recognized by award after award and so much praise that he might drown in all of it. I watched as my kid took a position of power and move through it beautifully, and then push past her difficulties to emerge a success in everything she did.
It was a good year, but it is good that it is done now. There will be picnic in a few weeks to put the faire to sleep and then it will be done. The memories will linger until we start ramping up again, and they will keep me warm and content through the winter until once more it is spring and a new faire and new memories begin.