Sunday
Sunday I was struck down by a migraine , but still managed to teach my class on Travel Foods of the Fur Trade Era (1800-1840). I had seven students plus two kibitzers who hadn’t signed up but came along anyway. The pemmican and dried beef were tasted and pronounced “interesting”, which is par for the course. (Not jerky, dried beef: innocent of any seasoning, even salt. The modern palate isn‘t used to it.) I also showed a sample of "portable soup" and demonstrated that the hardtack we made was done by banging it hard on the counter, raising a laugh at the resulting woodlike “knock, knock.” (The ‘tack doesn’t break when you do this either.)
I didn’t take any classes after that, instead choosing to lie down quietly in my tent to try to sleep off the migraine. (Partial success, it eased up some but didn’t totally go away.) I got up again in time for the raffle drawing (for a brazier and a collector’s doll) and awards ceremony.
It turns out that I took third place in the Seneca run and second AND third place in the canning contest! I won a bar of homemade herbal soap, an enamel percolator coffeepot, and a lovely beaded-leather neck pouch as a consequence. For my door prize I seized on a soapmaking kit with a book on the process, various ingredients (including some quite expensive essential oils) and a bar of the soap we made Saturday.
Breaking camp during a migraine attack was interesting in an emesis-laced sort of way. (Bending over for tent stakes is NOT a good thing.) I had little to pack up, though, and got all those yards of wet canvas stuffed into the car with everything else, including the unexpected and generous gift of a wooden chair.
The canvas is draped over most of the front porch right now, drying.
It's fun even in the rain, but I'm glad it's only once a year. I missed my Grey.
I didn’t take any classes after that, instead choosing to lie down quietly in my tent to try to sleep off the migraine. (Partial success, it eased up some but didn’t totally go away.) I got up again in time for the raffle drawing (for a brazier and a collector’s doll) and awards ceremony.
It turns out that I took third place in the Seneca run and second AND third place in the canning contest! I won a bar of homemade herbal soap, an enamel percolator coffeepot, and a lovely beaded-leather neck pouch as a consequence. For my door prize I seized on a soapmaking kit with a book on the process, various ingredients (including some quite expensive essential oils) and a bar of the soap we made Saturday.
Breaking camp during a migraine attack was interesting in an emesis-laced sort of way. (Bending over for tent stakes is NOT a good thing.) I had little to pack up, though, and got all those yards of wet canvas stuffed into the car with everything else, including the unexpected and generous gift of a wooden chair.
The canvas is draped over most of the front porch right now, drying.
It's fun even in the rain, but I'm glad it's only once a year. I missed my Grey.