She is happy, honest.
Glorious sunset.
The hall is open to the public with tudors reenacting 1588 today (Sunday 23rd) and Monday 24th, and then next weekend as well.
as we go along
She is happy, honest.
Glorious sunset.
The hall is open to the public with tudors reenacting 1588 today (Sunday 23rd) and Monday 24th, and then next weekend as well.
{heading} for bed very soon, as Kentwell calls. Our last event of the tudor year, and it’s just me and Small attending. Which will be a little odd tbh, but also quite nice to spend a bit of time with just one child. We’ve four days, and have borrowed a caravan so at least I’m not wrestling with a tent!
{feeling} slightly overwhelmed at how suddenly life has got busy and complicated after a relatively straightforward summer. Two children doing different courses at different places, all the variety of clubs back in action, add in the usual home ed activities and trying to blog and create and run and and and… I think I may be overdoing it. Is this just how it works when you’ve four children? Very possibly.
{reading} still the Loneliest Girl in the Universe (amazon affiliate link). I picked up a review book on the kindle the other night and accidentally lost an hour or two to that, which I regretted as quite frankly, no. (I’ll be reviewing that direct on netgalley as a DNF I suspect, although I’m taking my kindle with me, just in case, this weekend.)
{wondering} what I will discover I’ve forgotten on arrival in 1600.
{thinking} I really should be in bed.
{savouring} this burst of late summer at the start of autumn.
Snapshots – an unexpected roadside find.
{Big} trying to get into the swing of A levels, not being made any easier by the fact that two of her teachers have been mainly absent this week, and then she’s ended up with a nasty head cold – I had to collect her from school today. As an aside to that, I wasn’t overly impressed that I had to ring in to confirm I’d done just that, apparently a 17 year old’s word isn’t enough? Hm.
{Small} preparing for *another* guitar gig, getting into the swing of college and with a weekend at Kentwell ahead.
{Smallest} preparing to launch her own book blog – she’s read her first review book twice, so as to be sure to give it a thorough write up!
{Tigerboy} in need of focus. Going to ponder on that this weekend.
And with that, I must be off to bed!
{putting} a tent up Kentwell Hall, ready for this week’s hands on living history reenactment. Forecast was for a very hot day, so I went as early as I could to get sorted before the heat set in. Still hot work, particularly putting it up on my own, but I have now cracked how to put it up alone.
{searching} for a missing page cloak and hat. We have enough hats for everyone to be decently covered, but I’m cross that the mystical safe place has expanded to eat cloaks now.
{packing} all the stuff I have found.
{thinking} about past, present and future. Reenactment is an odd way to spend your leisure time I suppose, and it gives an odd perspective on both the past and the present. Today I spent some time on my own on the barnsward, and it felt to me like the buildings were waiting for us. Very odd sensation.
52memories
Snapshot
Big is away at camp, which is very odd. Small is all ready to go for another stint of paging, Smallest is very much looking forward to catching up with some friends, and Tigerboy is ready for some outdoor time.
He is so very beautiful, that Tigerboy. And I was much struck by the people who recalled him, visitors upon the manor from last year who remarked upon his growth ๐
Challenged to find a picture of my favourite holiday destination for this Al Fresco Holidays blog competition, I couldn’t resist the chance to wax lyrical about Kentwell Hall and reenactment once again.
It’s an odd choice of holiday. It’s hard work for one, but I suppose it’s the change is as good as a rest philosophy. I’m certainly not all over social media – no wifi, no electricity! means very little in the way of blogging or tweeting. And the clothes – you aren’t getting a tan when you’re tudoring ๐
But the community. Everyone working together – if the dairy and bakhouse aren’t working there’s no bread and butter. Sotlers at various stations around the manor cook the midday meal – pottage mainly, with bread and perhaps a side dish of something involving beans. (Breakfast and dinner are included too, though they’re more modern. And I rarely make it to breakfast, it’s a long walk from the campsite with two small children at that time in the morning.)
My part over the last couple of years has been in the barnschool, somewhat of a busman’s holiday for a home educator, finding yourself in a classroom of sorts with a range of other people’s children. But barnschool is a good place for a woman with small children at her apron strings – a blanket on the straw provides a place to nap, the barnsward is out front with places to play and explore within sight, and a long piece of linen means I can carry a tired Tigerboy when his little legs have had enough of walking.
People ask how you manage feeding and sleeping through the day – a wrap is a lifesaver. Tudor clothes are actually well set up for breastfeeding (unsurprising when you consider the alternatives available at that point. No plastic bottles for starters!) so as long as you’re happy feeding wherever you are, feeding on demand is straightforward. I have found that the demand increases while I’m there, I suppose it’s a reaction to the different environment and probably the higher levels of activity too.
We sleep in a tent while we’re re-enacting. I love camping anyway – I love waking up and crawling out of the tent into the day. It’s easier to be outside when there’s no walls between you and it. I’m not fond of rain but a good pair of wellies helps – rain during the day has to be waited out.
It’s a different pace of life when you’re living in the past. No clocks chasing you around, tasks are just as essential (like arranging food, drink and changing small children!) but the timetable is more forgiving, as are the people around you. And everyone mucks in to lend a hand – toddlers are watched by all adults, bigger children tend smaller ones, women work together to mind each other’s children and get everything done between them. It’s a necessity – there’s no other way to get through the day, but it’s also a pleasure. I’ve found connections in these visits to the past that I would never have expected before I started.
So, when I think of my perfect holiday? It’s at Kentwell, wandering through the past, being someone else. The ultimate break.