Pottage can be really really good. No, really good. I mean it. I think I’ve put weight on.
People can be really really ignorant. I am *still* stuttering, hours later, about the woman who commented negatively on me breastfeeding my five month old baby, in character. Apparently tudors had no pride. Grrr.
Both borage and love in the mist (which has an alternative alliterative name) have edible blue flowers. Neither were in flower in the cotte garden. Sorry to the woman who trekked down to find it 🙁
When you have lost a tent peg in a field full of thistles looking for it with your hand is not very bright.
My children are cute.
There are lots of kind people out there. Thanks to all who held baby, or helped the toddler, or fetched me food, or made me drink. You’re all very lovely.
Missing it already. So how do I manage camping at Michaelmas with a six month old? Anyone got an authentitent they aren’t using that weekend, or a campervan or caravan going spare?
Yes, re enacting is addictive…
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