the year previous, i had invited a friend to tag along with me and liam on our quest to temporarily travel back to the 16th century. aaron, who sadly could not leave work to accompany us, was a bit rightfully sore about it afterward, so this time we made sure to plan better, to plan ahead, in order to have him there with us, revelling in all things renaissance.
we trudged through mud. admired the autumn foliage. thought about visiting the local fortune teller. watched my dad perform. spotted a (female) frodo baggins roaming the woods. spotted a jon snow roaming the woods. took a walk through the it’s-bigger-on-the-inside tardis. stood open-mouthed shocked, once again, at the prices of costumes. finished off liam’s collection of wooden weapons with a bejewelled dagger. met her majesty the queen. haggled with a hesitant shop owner. bought a picture of a cat wielding a sword. bought a handmade bowl. watched folks whiz by above us on a questionably safe zip-line. watched liam ride a horse. watched knights duel to the death. gorged ourselves, as is tradition, on kettle corn. ran into my best friend. considered splurging on (price redacted) velvet cloaks, incense to last the year, and a boardwalk-style caricature portrait, but, for the sake of our already stretched-too-thin wallets, thought better of it.
i’d say that’s my mid 20s and aaron’s early 30s wisdom talking, but who am i kidding. there’s always next year, and i’m not leaving this world without one of those cloaks, damnit.
on a related note, there really ought to be a year-round ren fest. i’d pay good money (if we had it) to have an annual pass to that.