I just got around to uploading these photos. The morning we left Bridgewater, Peter – our friends’ neighbour and the guy who helped (okay, who DID) fix our van – brought out his Scottish armour and swords. He made pretty much all of this and wearing it would feel quite at home in the year 1300 in Scotland.
When I was little, my father used to occasionally refer to some strongwilled woman of his acquaintance, neighbour or someone in the past, as “a real battle-axe.” Gee, that wasn’t what I pictured!