Boots
I'm done with the record office in Northampton, and have the weekend to get through before I go to Cambridge and mess around with the record office there. And all has gone well, and I've been able to tidy up all the things I needed to tidy up.
Last thing I did was collect some butchers from Peterborough, end of the 16th century, who got in trouble because they sold meat from a bull without having first baited the bull with dogs.
The Elizabethans. How glad I am I do not know them.
Still, Peterborough interests me. All sorts of records from Ely concerning the dreadful naughtiness of entertainers in Cambridgeshire during the Elizabethan and Jacobean eras. Morris dancers, players, minstrels, all plying their trade during Sunday services. None show up in the Peterborough records. None. The worst the city of Peterborough can come up with is people failing to stage entertainments. (We gather that the Peterborough ordinance about baiting bulls before selling their meat has to do with tenderizing the meat. The only reason this has anything to do with entertainment is that the bull-baiting itself was the entertainment. I found some sites for you on the web, so that you could be informed, but I have to warn you. The sensitive among you do NOT want to find out. Therefore, do not click here, or here. Bull-dogs. Bred to go for the nose. For even more trauma, you can go look up the related sport of bear-baiting, but I'll let you google that yourself; I believe I've done enough today.)
Anyway. So today and tomorrow I'm writing, but I think that I probably need a long walk, and there's nothing much to see in Northampton, if you're me, although the taxi driver yesterday told me of a ruined abbey on the other side of town so I might go there. It's supposed to get up to 90 degrees today, for which I am not really prepared, but I think I can manage with what I've got.
What I really wanted to tell you today, however, is that I love Boots. Boots, for those of you who haven't been there, is like an American drugstore -- that is, they've got not only the chemist, but also all that other stuff. Lots of other stuff.
So I can get to any city in England and find the Boots -- and even if it's a small one, I'll be able to find those nice knee-high stockings to wear under my trousers, which over here have padded feet and are quite durable, and I'll be able to find little packets of shower gel and moisturizer, and even better yet, if it's a big Boots I'll be able to find lunch.
I'm quite in love with Boots' lunches these days. They have a special deal whereby you can get a sandwich and a drink and a packet of chips for 2 pounds 39, which is a Good Price. And they have, amongst the selections, excellent healthy choices, so you can find low-fat high fiber sandwiches, low fat chips, and flavored water. Num. AND they have little bags of fruit and vegetables, bless their heart.
Oh, I just love them.
When the child was a baby, we used to feed him out of the Boots, too, cause they had a special line of baby food which consisted of actual real food, only without all the salt, that had been smashed up for babies, and he would eat it. Cause he would NOT eat regular baby food. When he started solid food, I bought two packages of rice cereal, and threw them both out later. Wouldn't touch the stuff.
He liked Orkney Herring Pate, that's what. And he'd eat Boots food -- pureed salmon with dill sauce, pureed lasagne, pureed Swedish meatballs.
Yes. He and I both approve of Food at Boots.
I'm just saying.
I'll stop by there on my way to the ruined abbey, and pick up lunch. High times, in Northampton.
Last thing I did was collect some butchers from Peterborough, end of the 16th century, who got in trouble because they sold meat from a bull without having first baited the bull with dogs.
The Elizabethans. How glad I am I do not know them.
Still, Peterborough interests me. All sorts of records from Ely concerning the dreadful naughtiness of entertainers in Cambridgeshire during the Elizabethan and Jacobean eras. Morris dancers, players, minstrels, all plying their trade during Sunday services. None show up in the Peterborough records. None. The worst the city of Peterborough can come up with is people failing to stage entertainments. (We gather that the Peterborough ordinance about baiting bulls before selling their meat has to do with tenderizing the meat. The only reason this has anything to do with entertainment is that the bull-baiting itself was the entertainment. I found some sites for you on the web, so that you could be informed, but I have to warn you. The sensitive among you do NOT want to find out. Therefore, do not click here, or here. Bull-dogs. Bred to go for the nose. For even more trauma, you can go look up the related sport of bear-baiting, but I'll let you google that yourself; I believe I've done enough today.)
Anyway. So today and tomorrow I'm writing, but I think that I probably need a long walk, and there's nothing much to see in Northampton, if you're me, although the taxi driver yesterday told me of a ruined abbey on the other side of town so I might go there. It's supposed to get up to 90 degrees today, for which I am not really prepared, but I think I can manage with what I've got.
What I really wanted to tell you today, however, is that I love Boots. Boots, for those of you who haven't been there, is like an American drugstore -- that is, they've got not only the chemist, but also all that other stuff. Lots of other stuff.
So I can get to any city in England and find the Boots -- and even if it's a small one, I'll be able to find those nice knee-high stockings to wear under my trousers, which over here have padded feet and are quite durable, and I'll be able to find little packets of shower gel and moisturizer, and even better yet, if it's a big Boots I'll be able to find lunch.
I'm quite in love with Boots' lunches these days. They have a special deal whereby you can get a sandwich and a drink and a packet of chips for 2 pounds 39, which is a Good Price. And they have, amongst the selections, excellent healthy choices, so you can find low-fat high fiber sandwiches, low fat chips, and flavored water. Num. AND they have little bags of fruit and vegetables, bless their heart.
Oh, I just love them.
When the child was a baby, we used to feed him out of the Boots, too, cause they had a special line of baby food which consisted of actual real food, only without all the salt, that had been smashed up for babies, and he would eat it. Cause he would NOT eat regular baby food. When he started solid food, I bought two packages of rice cereal, and threw them both out later. Wouldn't touch the stuff.
He liked Orkney Herring Pate, that's what. And he'd eat Boots food -- pureed salmon with dill sauce, pureed lasagne, pureed Swedish meatballs.
Yes. He and I both approve of Food at Boots.
I'm just saying.
I'll stop by there on my way to the ruined abbey, and pick up lunch. High times, in Northampton.
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