Some time toward the end of July, the tenth anniversary of Agincourt passed without notice. Tick-tock, tick-tock.
At about the same time, blog entry #800 was another sort of landmark, I suppose. What occurs to me tonight, though, as it has almost from the beginning, is this: What does any of it mean? That question got a partial response in February, when I was privileged to present the project at the First Interdisciplinary Historical Fictions Research Network Conference at Anglia Ruskin University in Cambridge [theirs, not ours]. “Privileged” because I addressed a room of non-designers; people who were kind and constructive, enthusiastic and supportive of what we’ve been trying to accomplish, but they saw it through a different lens.
Peter and I left Heathrow with a sense of accomplishment—and some new friends.
Friends are also on my mind of late. Several have found their way into the narrative as “Ghosts of Christmas Past,” seventeen-and-counting of Howard Tabor’s columns in the Daily Plantagenet. And a few others ought to be here. I wonder why they aren’t.
Would you recognize yourself?