madbaker | The Crushing Weight of Fatigue

So Tired.
Make that Exhausted.

Crown was good. The 15th c. feast we did went off stunningly. Too much good food, and the helmeted cock riding the roast pygge was spectacular, in all the meanings of that word. All the work that everybody did paid off. I was very happy with how my fine manchet baked up, and the baker's mark came out beautifully.

There were things that we could do better; next time we'll know how to correct those. Like my math error - eight batches of bread for trenchers makes 32 small loaves. Which then get cut in half to make 64. Duh.
(pauses for a minute to wipe off tears of hilarity)
Yeah, right. Not in the next year, bucko. My shoulders hurt from ten batches of bread in less than a week.

The feast made things odd, though. Camping with a much larger group than I prefer to (although we would have ended up spending time hanging out with them anyway); not actually having any real schmooze time outside our campsite; completely ignoring court and the main event. Well, we tend to do some of that anyway lately, I suppose.

Driving the Highlander was also odd, but good. While we didn't have rear view mirror room, we did have more than sufficient room for all our stuff. And I was able to pass somebody while driving uphill; with the gutless Saturn overloaded, I always erred on the side of caution.

I'm glad I took today off for laundry, dishes, and shopping. I'm mentally fried today.