I have been walking again. Today, in the most delightful company, it was Top Withens, supposedly the model for Wuthering Heights. It was a typical English, late-August summer's day, but thankfully the hail storm was brief if rather heavy. But, never mind that, it was a terrific day out; and did I mention that the company was delightful? Yesterday wasn't bad either, with ten miles or so up Round Hill and along to the Bronze Age cairn on Beamsley Beacon. The view from Old Pike:
You will be wondering how last night's game went. It was entirely representative of wargames at the Casa Epictetus in that a good time was had by all and we got the rules completely wrong. I normally have no shame, but even I am embarrassed by how quickly I had forgotten how missile fire worked. Notwithstanding that, Chris claimed that he enjoyed it and is keen to have a repeat. I think that another run through of 'To the Strongest!' is required before we hopefully move on to something else, preferably after re-reading and digesting the rules first. Interestingly he expressed an interest in naval wargaming, an area where my own involvement has so far stalled at painting the tabletop in the wargaming annexe a mid-blue colour.
Back to Haworth parsonage:
“I love the silent hour of night,
For blissful dreams may then arise,
Revealing to my charmed sight
What may not bless my waking eyes.”
― Anne Brontë
"Flirting is a woman's trade, one must keep in practice." - Charlotte Brontë, Jane Eyre
“You know that I could as soon forget you as my existence!” - Emily Brontë, Wuthering Heights
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