Between blotch and blok

It was time for Stourbridge Fair, again, yesterday. Unlike last year, we weren't busy at the start and watched the mayor, accompanied by the university proctors, quail at the sound of the town crier and then open the proceedings. All very impressive. As were the medieval dancers (details of whose classes I have and may attempt to join). Looby Loo made a necklace and bought some wooden dice. I succumbed to a small memento mori (religious charms generally don't appeal) which ought to become an icon, but being small, black, unglazed pot it's going to be a toughie to get a good picture of. It almost didn't rain for the entire proceedings.

The proctors had some of their archives with them--as well as some impressive looking spears--including books from the 1930s with undergrads' applications for permission to hold parties (anything more the five people in a room, especially if refreshments were offered). We had a good look at 1938's records. The fascist society was very busy that year, regularly meeting in the Dorothy.