Last weekend’s plan should have been very simple. Go to re-enactment event at Basing House, Hampshire on Friday afternoon. Return home from said event on Monday afternoon, tired, probably soggy but having had a lot of fun. Turns out, that’s not quite what happened.
I spent Friday morning being lazier than I should have been and taking far longer than I should have done to get ready and pack the car. To be honest, the weekend all started going slowly awry from the point that I was dragged down the stairs from top to bottom by my own kit bag…
Last weekend, Aidan and I headed on our yearly pilgrimage to Weston-Super-Mare. ‘What’s at Weston-Super-Mare to keep you coming back every March?’ I hear you ask. Well… For those that don’t know me personally, you won’t know that I have a rather quirky hobby of historic battle re-enactment. Yeah. It’s odd, I’ll give you that but it’s also the most immense fun and pretty much takes over my life.
So every March, we trek to Weston as Aidan’s regiment (yes, it’s still split out by regiments) throws a banquet in a local village hall. We all put on our fanciest kit and have a very lovely evening of food, drink, music and dancing.