Can’t post much of anything tonight. I drove home in snake-floating rain, liberally mixed with hail, and a minute after I got into the house, the power went out, where it stayed until about fifteen minutes ago. This left me unable to do much of anything, except read Andrew Klavan’s Hunting Down Amanda by candlelight. Now I’ve got stuff to catch up on. See you tomorrow.

I occasionally think about writing personal posts, but I usually avoid it. You don’t want to hear about me, and if you do, maybe I don’t want you to hear about me. It’s probably just my selfishness, which is why I could never be The Next Food Network Star–along with other, larger reasons. Anyway, I may write something personal later this week.

So, Lars was talking about actors a few days ago (Garage door blues), and coincidentally Delancey Place quotes from one of those odd books which lends support to the notion that there are books about everything. Wait, it’s an article, not a book. Still there are books about everything out there, such as The Stray Shopping Carts of Eastern North America: A Guide to Field Identification and Better Never To Have Been: The Harm of Coming Into Existence. But to the point of this post–Delancey Place quotes Laurence Olivier on his stage fright: “Olivier wrote of his famous performance in ‘Othello,’ ‘I had to beg my Iago, Frank Finlay, not to leave the stage when I had to be left alone for a soliloquy, but to stay in the wings downstage where I could see him, since I feared I might not be able to stay there in front of the audience by myself.'”

Just when you think some guys have it all together.

My burning question for supporters of nationalized health care:

If the U.S. adopts a single-payer health care system, where are the Canadians going to go for surgery, if they don’t want to wait a decade for a bypass?

You hate Canadians, don’t you? Don’t you?

Yeah, I know it’s “Talk Like a Pirate Day.” Why should I care? I talk like a Viking every day.

Somebody came out with a book a while back (I won’t bother to link to it) that claimed to document homosexual behavior as very common among pirates. I have no reason to doubt that. Men who stay at sea for long periods of time, with no access to women, very frequently turn to sodomy. This goes for men in prison and (formerly) boys in English public schools too. It would be ridiculous to maintain that all those guys (who generally turned back to heterosexuality as soon as women were available) were “born to be gay.”

Which brings us to this piece by S. T. Karnick about an article in (of all places) Mother Jones, questioning the idea that sexual identity is fixed. Cracks are beginning to appear in the homosexual ideological wall. So don’t give up the ship.

(Which is not pirate talk. It’s U.S. Navy talk.)

The weather forecast called for severe storms this morning. They did not appear, though the special effects guys painted the sky for it. We expect some precipitation tonight or tomorrow, and possibly some Thor’s Hammer action too. But so far it’s been just an oddly warm day for September, with the humidity high.

I’ve been e-mailing with the Youngest Niece in China, and I told her I spent yesterday afternoon sewing a new leather cover on one of my Viking sword sheaths. She asked for details and pictures (for some reason), and I figure that as long as I’m taking pictures I might as well use them here too (however arcane and boring the subject matter) thus killing two birds with one sword.

Actually, two swords.

Here’s a picture of my Viking swords and their sheaths. Neither of them is expensive or meticulously authentic, but they look pretty good if you don’t examine them too closely. My new leather covers are meant to improve that impression.

The top sword represents a late Viking sword, the kind Erling Skjalgsson might have had. If you’ve read The Year of the Warrior, there’s a scene where Erling explains why he prefers his new Frankish sword to his father’s heirloom sword (superior steel from Germany had become available). This is the sort of thing Erling was talking about. You’ll note that it’s a little broader at the hilt end, with more taper than the other sword. This is my “show sword,” the one I ordinarily wear with my costume.

The sword below is a Paul Chen Practical Viking Sword (Third Generation). It’s an earlier design, fairly common in England and Scandinavia. This is an intentionally blunt sword, meant for theatrical use and live steel combat.

I re-covered the lower sheath last Sunday, and the upper sheath yesterday.

I’d never been happy with the sheath on my show sword. It’s a cheap-o from a catalog that sells a fairly broad range of sword qualities. The sheath came with a rectangular cross-section, which was another indicator of cost-cutting. A sharp oval cross-section is more authentic. The Paul Chen, which was actually less expensive, came with a much nicer oval sheath. But then it was made in China, under conditions I don’t care to think about.

So the first thing I did was put a new cover on the Paul Chen. No work on the sheath itself was necessary. The original sheath came in beautifully finished wood, but I’m pretty brutal with my swords, chucking them in the back of the Tracker and driving them around where they rub up against stuff, so it was getting scuffed up.

A friend in the Viking Age Society had explained to me how to sew leather on a sheath. I had assumed it involved either gluing it or soaking it and letting it shrink, but he explained that what I needed to do was cut the leather to size, but leave a gap along the edges, so that the two long edges don’t touch when wrapped around the sheath.

Then you poke or punch holes along both edges, and sew them together, pulling the stitches up tight to stretch the leather. When you’re done, you have a nice tight cover.

I was pleased with the results on the Paul Chen, so I resolved to do the same with the show sword. I knew this would be harder, but I hoped that I could plane or sand the edges down to get something closer to the oval cross-section I wanted.

This proved to be impossible without actually re-building the sheath. It turned out that the pieces of the sheath had been secured with a number of tiny little nails which were not kind to my tools. So I did the best I could to round them, and had to be content with that.

This had consequences. The leather didn’t stretch as well around those flattish edges as they had around the sharp oval of the Paul Chen. But the result wasn’t awful. I can live with it.

You’ll note that the center seam is especially off-center on the show sword. I think the reason for that was that I worked almost all the way from one side, so every time I pulled the thread up tight, I tugged the whole seam toward me. Next time I do this I’ll try to change sides regularly.

You’ll also note that I put a “collar” at the top of the show sword sheath. This wasn’t to make it fancier. It was to cover a section where the leather ran out in a way I hadn’t planned.

Maybe one day I’ll go all the way and actually build a proper Viking sheath (that would involve, among other things, lining it on the inside with fleece, to protect and oil the blade). But for now I’ve slightly improved my impression and it didn’t cost me much.