Supposed To

I was supposed to work at the Canterbury Tales until May.

I was supposed to go to Greece with Katya before coming back to the UK.

I was supposed to spend the summer in tents and fields with silly costumes and swords.

I was supposed to canoe from Whitehorse to Dawson with friends.

I was supposed to go see Foil, Arms, and Hog in London.

I was supposed to be Guildenstern in a Canterbury production of Hamlet.

But plans change.

I know everyone’s in a weird and uncertain place, we all have things we were supposed to do, but since I haven’t written anything here since Christmas I figured I could do a bit of a catch up.

Twelfth Night

My favourite night of the year. After a long day of moving logs from one pile to another, we dress in our medieval best and get ready for a party. This year, ØC and Hæstingas took charge of the festivities, decorating the hall with holiday greenery, a set stage, and a massive roaring fire. The food and mead were plentiful and conversations lively and loud. We sang songs, heard a recitation of Beowulf in Old English, were delighted by an acted version of a Norse myth, and played a series our rowdy viking games. I could forever wax lyrical about the magic of this night but words fail and all that now remains is the warmth in my chest and the smile on my face when I remember it.

Richard III

Tom and I had another day of culture in London. First, we went to the Tate museum and spent ages looking at the gorgeous Pre-Raphaelite paintings. I’ve always loved this era of painting. My 8th grade English teacher had a poster of John William Waterhouse’s Lady of Shalott in her room. That was the year I first fell in love with poetry and starting memorizing long passages, starting with Robert Service’s Cremation of Sam McGee. More recently, I also learned Tennyson’s Lady of Shalott, and so standing in front of the massive painting I recited softly,

And down the river's dim expanse,
Like some bold seër in a trance 
Seeing all his own mischance--
With a glassy countenance 
     Did she look to Camelot.
And at the closing of the day 
She loosed the chain, and down she lay;
The broad stream bore her far away,
     The Lady of Shalott.

I think our personalities showed a bit as we went through the gallery. Tom walked around the place, well, like a normal person, making a lap of one room before going onto the next. I went around like a sparrow caught in a building; flitting from one canvas to the next, ignoring some if they didn’t catch my eye but being mesmerized by another. Sometimes I was two rooms ahead, or one room behind, but I always came back to the Lady of Shalott. I had sat down to try and sketch it, but we didn’t have that kind of time and we had to get to the theatre.

For Tom’s Christmas present I had bought us both tickets to Richard III at the Sam Wanamaker. Again, it was a brilliant performance, and they really made Richard into a fun character. She would come out and dance and sing every time her plans had caused another death, until she met her own bloody end. Tom did mention that he’s only seen Globe productions with female actors playing the traditionally male leads, I had 600 years worth of tiny violins playing for him.

Regia

I’m very blessed that I was able to spend so much time with my Regia family before returning home. We’d already had our trainings at Islip, York, and Ashby before lockdown started. York wasn’t the battle we were expecting since the weather wouldn’t allowed the battle to take place, but we still marched through the medieval streets and looked awesome doing it.

I surrendered to the inevitable while at the Regia Ashby training weekend. I’m so thankful that I had that last weekend with many friends before returning to Canada.

Covid

I packed up my life in England in a week.

Monday, I made the calls to work, landlord, bank, and friends. Tuesday, I started packing up two years worth of stuff and moving it to a friend’s attic. Wednesday, I had many goodbyes as friends stopped in. Thursday, I ran some errands around Canterbury and tried to not think about how much I would miss it. Friday, I dropped my keys through the realtor’s mailbox. Saturday, I was on a plane.

At 32000 feet, I watched Knives Out, Frozen 2, and half of the second season of Westworld .

Arriving home after a week of chaos was a relief. My family went into full quarantine for two weeks, as required, but even now that’s passed, we still pretty much stay at home. The boys and Catherine have been doing university online, dad works from home, and mom and I only go out to the grocery store when necessary. I go over to Oma and Opa’s house but we chat from a safe distance. My internal clock never really knows what its doing as I’m talking to people at all hours and I’m using my time to be as creative as possible. I think the dogs are very pleased about this arrangement as they are getting more attention than ever. Life is strange and uncertain but we are blessed with what we have and I eat better in lockdown than I ever did before.

I am supposed to be taking my first steps to becoming a teacher in September.

I am supposed to be on the field at Detling Military Odyssey.

I am supposed to return to the UK.

But we’ll see how plans change.