Doctor what?

Today was our history day at the Museum. Galleries, live music, Campbell House, projects for kids, antique tractors, historic displays about the railroads and fire fighting, and Salish songs and stories. Also, re-enactors. You heard me (read me). Fur trappers (Spokane House), Civil War (Union, Confederate, and a wandering Lincoln {quite robust, in fact too robust}), and Renaissance (um...ladies, pirates, and others in costumes from various eras, in my estimation beyond the Renaissance).


The Spokane House people are awesome. They bring the coolest stuff, smell like leather and smoked salmon and frontiersman (and now the Museum smells like that too), and their costumes are out of sight. They're legit to the tenth power.


The Civil War people...less legit, a tad sloppy joe. They sort of fumble around the grounds--you know, drilling, shooting their guns, taking pictures with the Lincoln. Maybe if the state of Washington participated in the Civil War... Oh wait. We didn't become a state until 1889 (I think).


And the Renaissance people. OK, they were at Living History Day because we have a Leonardo da Vinci exhibit coming this summer. Ummm...let's just say the Renaissance re-enactors bring something special to the mix. Something crazy. Crazy to the max. Have you ever been to a Renaissance Fair (or Faire, as milady might call it)? If you have, there's no need for further explanation. If you haven't, just watch this to get some idea and then take away the knights and replace them with guys dressed up like Inigo Montoya (which, in itself, is not a bad thing) and also add lots of bosoms. Lots and lots. I have this feeling that Renaissance fairs and festivals are a chance for certain types of nerds to be skanky in other centuries...under the guise of history.


I have bunches to say on this subject, but I'm going to stop right here because it only gets more mean-spirited. And since I now feel guilty for writing mostly everything above this sentence, I'm going to try to lessen my guilt by talking about my own nerd predilections.


Last night I had a zombie dream (of course I did) where a group of us escaped a particularly nasty area of town by stealing a car using a sonic screwdriver. And if you know what a sonic screwdriver is, why are we not already married?


There you have it: I'm not fit to judge other nerds. (However, I do feel like I can pass judgement on trashy skanks.) This is what happens when nothing's going on in my life and the sisters don't post anything for days and days. You end up hearing about my zombie dreams. Sigh.


Just so you don't think I'm terrible, here's a picture of me cuddling Abbie's Andy Gibb doll. See? I'm nice.