Eat an Irish is good for your health

One Night Is (definitely) Not Enough

Nothing to had.

Oh, yes. Just one thing.

Paris and french folk love you too.

Pumkins scream in the dead of night

Ok, it’s been a while.

For forgiveness, an october/november gift : some Hallowe’en pics. Hallowe’en is probably one of my favorite day. Because of the witch asleep in me, I guess.

(yes, it’s blur. It’s on purpose)

Hallowe’en pics - november 2011

French cancan

Howdy folks !

Well, it’s been a while, I know, but I’ve been hectic these last weeks. I had to return to work, among a lot of other busy things. Whatever.

Just a little blah-blah to tell you that the Space Sheep is now chatting on a french blog, right there.

You can also find the french blog by clicking on this amazing beautiful banner :

Of course, Eat an Irish is Good for your Health on Tumblr is not dead, and I’ll be back soon with a lot of new pics, stupid articles and more.

See you !

Reblog if you’ve been lucky enough to see your favourite band live.

I’m a lucky girl.

A lucky girl with a friend who held a camera and told me “go to see them, go to see them, don’t be stupid, don’t be fuckin’ shy, holy crap !”.

Ok, maybe she didn’t yell “holy crap”. But I’m sure she thought about it.

It was the first time I ask someone for autographs and pictures. Weird, and, by the way, pretty nice.

(Snow Patrol’s gig in Paris, may 2010)

Tom Simpson and me (keyboards forever, dude !)

Jonny Quinn and us (and his sooo beautiful silver pen)

Gary Lightbody and me (again and again)

Paul “Pablo” Wilson and me (and his nice knitted beanie).

(why does this guy want to be called Pablo ? I don’t know. Actually, it doesn’t really matter)

Nathan Conolly (or maybe it’s Connolly ? I have a friend named Connolly, and I never could remember if the name of the Patrol’s guitarist’s is written the same way than my friend’s) didn’t come out this night. You know what it means ?

It means that I must go see them again.

I didn’t meet Nathan Con(n)olly.

You have to understand.

I have no choice.

*sigh*

(Source: ad0lf-hipster)

Whatever happens in Culan stays in Culan

Last week end, I went with my friend Lucette to the medieval festival of Culan (France, 18), as a psychic. These two days were totally amazing, full of laughters, friends, music and joy. But first things first, my amazing room, with its giant fireplace, inside the Culan’s castle itself :

The door, enter please, make yourself at home, mi casa es su casa :

My place, with my chair covered with fur (wool actually) :

And finally the scented candles that I made last weeks :

So nice, isn’t it ? I couldn’t help to play the princess in this wonderful place :

My friend was just next to the tavern, among flowers :

Hmmmm smells like happiness …

Time passed so quickly, and we left the place with sadness, but one consolation : we’ll go back there in August ! Meanwhile, a lot of things will be missed :

1) To be called “Princess” by little girls and be compared to Snow White or Rapunzel. Sooo nice, I love you girls !

2) Have the ears killed at each shot (there was fireworks in the yard), preceded by the whistles of our knight (Cailleterie) and his memorable “cover your ears, open your mouth, it’ll be less sounding in your skulls, I tell you! ” or “Are you ready? Really ready? Absolutely ready to be really ready? You are totally ready to be fully prepared to be really ready?”.

3) See the trebuchet (handled by the same knight) throwing water bombs in all directions, including in the middle of a table (and bam ! the pie).  Or right in the head of the unfortunate who tried to intercept it (a questionable decision after all)

4) Yell on a thief (the same unfortunate as before, which definitely has a little masochistic problem) and scream to make him half drowned in a bucket before being pilloried, and then laugh cruelly as kids tried to hit him with rotten plums (which, fortunately for him, sought rather badly). And choke with laughter when we saw the gallant charged of the torture almost cut his arm while trying to put it in the the wrist hole.

5) Have a knight in chain mail as a bouncer at the door of my room. Great.

6) Play with the weapons of this knight, try out the helmets, and realize that it makes me feel a strong claustrophobia and finally decide that the bare head is probably the greatest invention of the modern world.

7) Learn (thanks to the teachings of the same knight) the famous reel with the sword, and feel like Aragorn yelling “For Gondoooor!” in front of an army of grass squashed.

8) Pull the crossbow by imagining the face or anatomical various samples of my dear ex-compatriots in the land of Lee, Yu and Phem instead of the target (and believe me, it works so well). I realize that for that too, I am left-handed, and wonder what the hell happened at school to make me write with my right hand while I’m left-handed for pretty much everything else.

9) Drinking for free. And cul-sec, sometimes (thank you for not-prepared shows, “girls, now!” Huh, what? Ah, damnit !).

10)Say hi to James Niquedouille , the baby hawk (its name is not the real one, I just called it like that because it has the same stare that James Blunt and that it is a bit stupid, poor little thing)

11) Discuss for hours and almost die laughing at loud with amazing people. Make friends like buying milk, without even thinking of it.

12) Sing at loud in the car on the way to Culan every morning with my Lucette (Montagne montaaagneuuuh). Sing out of tune, if possible, it’s sooo much better. Virgin Radio thank you, without you this “musical” achievement would not have been possible (and sorry for the weather, by the way). Then sing Let’s Salughtering Us In The Tavern after the car was parked and out of sight.

13) Do nothing in the morning sun, waiting for tourists who sleep late, and thinks that really, life is well done, eating raspberry-chocolate Special K bars (yum yum).

14)Look with love at the hurdy-gurdy (aka wah-wah box) of one of the troubadoursand resist  with great difficulty to the desire of taking it from the hands to its owner and run away with it to cherish it for eternity.

15) Drool over the fabulous corsets of the talented and adorable designer of Vultus, Magali Becard, who has an exceptional talent that is matched only by her modesty.

16) To be called “My Lady” by the knight (always the same). Actually, to be called “My Lady” between two “My beggar,” fifty “Witch”, and three attempts of human traffick (“I’ll sell her, if you want” “Oh? How many horses?” “Horses? For her? Noooo, four pigs, that’s enough “). Tsss. Men. All the same.

17) Talk with people who know what halberds, hauberks, secular philanthropy, flamboyant Gothic, Question, portcullis and archives are.

18) See a knighthood and realize that yes, we would call it chevalierisation in french (Perceval, I will love you forever and beyond)

19) Don’t have cell phone, laptop, computer, car, TV or radio.

20)Yell at people with nice words (in french : faquin, hérétique, vandale, traine-poulaines, gueux, manant, pouilleux, gibier de potence, pécore, maraud, chien galeux, engeance de catin, fieffé coquin, vil félon, coureuse de remparts, maroufle, merdaille, bougresse, pendard, mécréééaaaant !!) and to be allowed to say nonsense of another age (in french : mortecouille, palsambleu, cornegigouille, diantre, fichtre, cornes de bouc, par la barbe de Satan, morbleu, par la malepeste, foutrecouille !!).

21) See the knights fight with czech swords and hear their “oh, damnit, he made a hole in my shield, this fuckin’ jerk !”

Can’t wait for the next festival ! Same place, same people … Same feast !

Some links, if you want details about the festival and people who were there :

Culan’s Castle
Tattooweek, Lucette’s blog (temporay tattoos)
L’épée et l’archet (knights and musicians)
Vultus créations (Magali Becard’s amazing dresses)
Le Chevalier de la Cailleterie (fireworks and more)

Pagan polska

Troubadours in a medieval festival - Huriel (03, Allier, France) - july 2011

You can see some Scottish guys wearing green kilts just on the right of the picture. I definitely love Scottish guys. *sigh*

The bouzouki player (I really loved his costume, even if his shoes were awful)

A friend (who is a tattoo artist beginner) and I spent the weekend in a medieval feast (the first of a serie in wich we will work this summer), where we held a temporary tattoo shop. The season starts rather well, even if a cold and rainy Saturday morning didn’t help matters. Can’t wait for the next one (I will work as a seer, I’m sure it will be great).

Wanna see some pics of the artist ?

My friend, tattooing a treble clef on a little girls’s shoulder

A bear paw on a child’s arm

If you want to learn more about temporary tattoo using jagua, you can visit my friend’s new website, right here. It’s in french, by the way, but you can see pictures of her work on this page (I’m on three pictures, as the nice guinea pig I am).

That’s me in the corner

Frenegonde, my new baby - 27 june 2011

Having a mandolin was a dream, for two (bad) reasons ;

First, my favorite Disney’s movie when I was a child, The Sleeping Beauty, and its unforgettable scene with a drunken troubadour who hide wine in its mandolin to drink it under the table :

Click here, if you dare !

Second, my beloved guitar hero, the one and only Peter Buck, ladies and gentlemen :

And here, if you’re a real man !

(Yes, I was in love with Buck in the 90’s. With Larry Mullen too. And Ed O’Brien. And … Yes I am definitely unfaithful, shame on me)

Ok, I guess you can laugh at me now.

Just tea for two and two for tea

My white tea set - june 2011

I really love this tea set. It has something from Faery, like an “Alice in Wonderland” taste.

Got milk ?