> . . . Personally, I know of at least one member that has
> such a serious case of stage fright that the thought of going
> infront of a bunch of people, even though many are very
> close friends, makes her cry, complete with rolling stomach
> and cold sweats! She'd just rather "do her thing and
> not be called up front" (her words). Wonder if there is a
> "stealth peerage" that could be given to these people so as
> not to make them go through this stress?
> Rowena of Falkirk
We had a married couple like that in our barony (not quite so
stage-frightened, but close). Each wanted the other to be recognised for
their work. We all agreed that they both were fabulous artisans and danged
hard workers, so recommendations were sent to the Crown and each was
privately told that the other one was going to get their AoA at Pennsic
Court (for some reason, court at Pennsic is both more significant and yet
less frightening)... and then in a paper-shuffling mix-up, their names were
left off of the court business list. They and the rest of the barony who had
attended in high anticipation (since everyone else knew that both were
getting their AoAs) left in disappointment and confusion.
A quick note to the Queen, a very gracious lady, resulted in a
The baroness quietly drew each one aside to let them know that the Royals
were going to be dropping by camp and "you know that thing we talked about
for Court? I think you should find a way to get your spouse in nice garb...
*wink*" and each carefully encouraged the other to clean up the area in
front of their (handmade) yellow and white striped pavilion with its
(carefully researched) windows and wonderfully authentic everything (they
did this for their own love of "doing it right" - weren't *aware* that you'd
do anything else!) and then waited in quiet contentment.
The King and Queen "dropped in". Since they were known by quite a few of
us, there was milling and chatting and a stealthy working-their-way movement
of folks towards the couple. Then introductions were made and the Queen, a
Laurel, noticed the pavilion and asked questions about this and that,
putting the couple completely at ease as they responded with enthusiasm to a
fellow-artisan. Once relaxation had set in, the Herald intoned "Now opens
the Court of Their Majesties..." and the AoAs were awarded, with much joy
and the barony-fun of being able to watch their (the couple's) smug faces as
their spouse was called forward... and their shock as _they_ were called
forward. Then Court was closed, Her Majesty requested a chance to view the
bed that they'd rigged (suspended from the support poles, the bed was
balanced via levelling-tool at each campsite and then lashed to the poles.
No wedges to accidently dislodge, no uneven sleeping. There was a foot-board
operated fan situated above the bed (it stopped waving once you fell asleep)
and two electric fans hidden amoung the hangings for further sleeping
comfort as one of them suffers from chronic heat difficulty. All surrounded
by lovely hangins of cloth). And so artists chatted with artists, then the
Royal Couple left and the rest of us were subjected to much fingerwaving and
indignant "you.... you.... sneaks!".
And there were smiles all around.