Off with the Crown
Listen here: [audio http://traffic.libsyn.com/2bannab/2BAnnaB_Episode_019.m4a]
(00:28) Welcome and Introduction
- All Spun Up
- American English
- Moment of Drama
(1:21)All Spun Up
On the needles
Still working on my All and Sundry shawl. The pattern is Sundry by Jennifer Dassau.
Main Colour – Wildcraft Cherry Blossoms fibre club, 2-ply: 172 yds
Contrasting Colour – HilltopCloud Bleak Midwinter, 2-ply: 198 yds
Picked up my Pomme de Pin cardigan again too just one shoulder and the sleeves left to go!
Friday 6th – Sunday 9th September 2013
Details on the Wildcraft website
Four classes are offered as part of the weekend:
- Dyeing Workshop – Friday 6th September, Afternoon Session
- Luxury Fibre Dyeing with Karen – Saturday 7th September, Morning Session
- Carding Workshop with Longdraw James – Saturday 7th September, Afternoon Session
- Spinning Luxury Fibres, with Longdraw James – Sunday 8th Sept, Morning Session
I have also been on a Joy of Cooking kick:
Lastly, I made raspberry gin which I heard about on the iMake Podcast: Raspberry Gin Recipe
(18:04) American English
A-levels and UCAS vs High School and University/College Applications
(22:19) Moment of Drama
Henry VI Part 3
Act I, Scene iv
Brave warriors, Clifford and Northumberland,
Come, make him stand upon this molehill here,
That raught at mountains with outstretched arms,
Yet parted but the shadow with his hand.
What! was it you that would be England’s king?
Was’t you that revell’d in our parliament,
And made a preachment of your high descent?
Where are your mess of sons to back you now?
The wanton Edward, and the lusty George?
And where’s that valiant crook-back prodigy,
Dicky your boy, that with his grumbling voice
Was wont to cheer his dad in mutinies?
Or, with the rest, where is your darling Rutland?
Look, York: I stain’d this napkin with the blood
That valiant Clifford, with his rapier’s point,
Made issue from the bosom of the boy;
And if thine eyes can water for his death,
I give thee this to dry thy cheeks withal.
Alas poor York! but that I hate thee deadly,
I should lament thy miserable state.
I prithee, grieve, to make me merry, York.
What, hath thy fiery heart so parch’d thine entrails
That not a tear can fall for Rutland’s death?
Why art thou patient, man? thou shouldst be mad;
And I, to make thee mad, do mock thee thus.
Stamp, rave, and fret, that I may sing and dance.
Thou wouldst be fee’d, I see, to make me sport:
York cannot speak, unless he wear a crown.
A crown for York! and, lords, bow low to him:
Hold you his hands, whilst I do set it on.
Putting a paper crown on his head
Ay, marry, sir, now looks he like a king!
Ay, this is he that took King Henry’s chair,
And this is he was his adopted heir.
But how is it that great Plantagenet
Is crown’d so soon, and broke his solemn oath?
As I bethink me, you should not be king
Till our King Henry had shook hands with death.
And will you pale your head in Henry’s glory,
And rob his temples of the diadem,
Now in his life, against your holy oath?
O, ’tis a fault too too unpardonable!
Off with the crown, and with the crown his head;
And, whilst we breathe, take time to do him dead.