Its the New Years Role Play Game Time Again
Well, a good part of this week Disaster Cat spent trying to be as invisible as possible. This is partly true and partly a family joke. When our house-mate joined our family, he had already been running a role playing game with his high-school buddies for a number of years. This tradition has continued with the addition and subtraction of a few people. As the guys get married, move away, move back again etc. My husband joined this motley band about eight years ago, but back then they used to play at a members house in Dublin.
Now this role playing game, seems to be more than just an excuse to inhabit Middle Earth for a few hours. In fact, it seems to have many of the typical rituals of a male bonding experience. Instead of getting together to get up early and sit in the mud behind a deer blind (or empty their wallets to fly to the World Soccer Finals) they get together to slay orks and balorogs. Like any other good male bonding ritual, they have a number of traditions attached to it. While a tropical islander may spend time with his buddies in the "men's house" these guys are not lucky enough to have such a space. They used to, when one of them had a bachelor house in Dublin, but alas that has fallen by the wayside. The next-best permanent base to play is here at Kilmurry House. It has many things to recommend it: extra bedrooms, a large playing room, good storage and a working microwave. The down side (for them) is that it also has ME, Disaster Cat. I am female and I am not going anywhere.
Which violated rule one of their club house, the one that says: No Girls Allowed!
Now, I have absolutely no interest what-so-ever in their game playing. My interest in role playing was low to start with and disappear completely when I had a temporary job with a 1980's "role playing by mail game." This a predecessor to todays on-line MUD's (multi-user-dungeons) and seemed about as exciting as playing chess by mail. I've never been big on dice rolling to begin with, although the site of all those pretty colored ones can distract my eye for about 10 seconds. After that, I'd rather read a book. At least I can get to the plot faster.
This lack of interest is a good thing, because it means I'm not in danger of invading their space by asking too many questions. If anything, my husband spends a lot of time (between "sessions) letting me know more than I ever wanted to know about what is happening in the pubs of Gondor. But, just because I am not interested, does not mean I am out of the house. So, I try to do the next best thing: Stay out of the way and keep busy.
The problem is, sometimes I just have to interrupt. Passed problems, requiring that dreaded knock on the door, have included: Escaped horses into a neighbor's field, the death of the outdoor freezer (with everything inside rapidly melting)and the urgent need for someone to buy to lit paper. This time it was just a missing phone list, though even that got a few grumbles.
This time, I also had another plan of attack in terms of keeping busy. I did something truly dastardly. Something I don't do very often, but I was really bored. I invited over THE GIRLS. In actual fact, only one of my friends was free and could make it. But we did our best to fill our part of the house with estrogen. We did things like clean up the kitchen, re-arrange the pizzas and beer in the fridge, cut out clothing to sew and drink copious amounts of tea in the kitchen. We ate, but did not bake, any more cookies. Though friend brought some of her own baking over already made. We had a great time, though I'm not sure what the guys thought about it. She left yesterday morning because her sister is getting married on New Years and she had to get back. I'm sure she will look stunning in the fake lepord fur and red velvet gown we designed. Nothing like a bit of dress up and fake fur to make the girl cooties help flush out testosterone laden air.
After that, I went back to my usual routine during the games (which occur about once every two months and always the week before New Years). I read books, watched TV, surfed the net; all the while pretending not to notice the piles of frozen pizza, mountains of chips, loads of candy bars and bags of cookies trekking up the stairs to the playing room. Oh, and I also get to ignore the six packs of beer taking over the fridge. This time, there not nearly as many of those, they guys have learned over time that trying to put too many beers in the fridge at once, just results in my removing them to make sure our food stays cold. For a couple of years, we had an extra "beer fridge" in an outbuilding, but that has been taken away because of renovations needed for the jewelery business. House-mate may be a small one at some point for his office. Until then, its a matter of how much we can fit into our normal one.
But, as all good things come to an end, the game was over around six o'clock this evening. After three days of murder, mayhem and adventure, Middle Earth is safe for another couple of months. I am back to using headphones to watch TV (since husband is not downstairs all the time) and life is revving up for the News Years Party tomorrow night.
Having already discovered that the ham was never actually purchased (just talked about) and that the left over cooked piglet is still frozen, I can see the New Year is going to be pretty much like the old one. And just as organized...but we've got about 10 people coming and I'm sure we will all have fun anyway. If nothing else, there will be black eyed peas and corn bread! Which the Americans should appreciate and the Irish will take their annual bite of once it is explained you have to eat it for "good luck" in the New Year. Thank goodness no one is coming from Scotland this year. I'm not sure I could face even a bit of haggis. Last time I tried it, I nearly lost my cornbread!
I think I stick to ham, mulled wine and cookies....
Happy New Year!
Disaster Cat