Ye Olde Worlde Mumsnette

[Sharrilanda]

Share some historical MN dilemmas and stories.
What kind of posts do you think we would be reading if MN was around in the good old days of yore?

If thou wast on the meade and not the small beere, that would explain it. Ye meade is strong stuff.

Indeedeth it be.

Back in ye day, I was partial to a halfe and halfe of meade and cyder when 'out out' with my wenches.

This fine cocktail known as Snakebyte twas vicious as a viper's tongue and was oft served in the lowly taverns we frequented.

Ah, ye Snakebyte. Wast thou out in ye hostelry known as "Wetherladles"?

Good morrow, ye gentlefolke of old Mumsnette. Well, I did'st turn mine sundial yester eve and apparently 'tis now five o'clock in the afternoon. I must have slept too well methinks - but 'tis still a goodly light in yon sky, which gladdens mine heart but still doth surprise me somewhat!

Did thou not hear the town cryer telling folk to rotate their sundials? You must show some responsibility and self discipline.

Mine own Mother says it is the devil’s work to rotate sundials and mess with time which is why she did not bother.

Mine own husband has suggested in the privacy of our hovel that she is becoming forgetful which is why she did not do hers like all other folk, but will not say that to her when we visit on Tuesday. He will simply turn her sundial for her as in faith she has put it where she cannot easily reach it.

Forsooth, winter drawers on, as mine grandmother was wont to say at the coming of the dark nights.

My drawers are never off, tis so perishing cold in mine hovel.

I cannot find ye instruction parchment for the turning of ye sundial. Without it, i know not whether to rotate it sunwards or moonwards.
I must live in ye darke until the master returneth.

And the one in ye cart will remain as it is.

I set forth to purchase provisions from the fine shoppe owned by Master Tescoe this morning. The young lass who did relieve me of my groats at the end of my wanderings declared ye sundial high upon the wall had yet to be rotated and should be ignored by the peasant masses thronging the aisles. Master Tescoe do relieveth me of mine meagre coins almost daily so I shall knoweth on the morrow if a minion has mounted his ladder.

I went thence perforce to complete further errands at ye vaste shoppe of HovelBase. Twas most fortunate that ye sundial in ye cart is changed by some dark magic and always giveth the right time without intervention by human hand. Tis proper spooky.

Goode eventide fellow Mistresses!
I hath been on a pilgrimage to worship the great orange orb in the skye up yonder and I hath returneth today slightly confuddled with thys meddling of thee sundial.
I wisheth to hath stayed in the warmer climes as this wintry weather does not suiteth myne old bones!
I shall perchance seeketh out myne sheep's fleece drawers and chemise for I am verily freezing myne bits off.

Dost thine childer carveth pumpkyns for All Hallows Eve? Tis truly witchcraft!
I shalt snuff mine tallow candles after the setting of the sun on the last day of October so no person shall believe me to be in mine dwelling to provide sweetmeats as they demand.

Mine childer are full growne and hath long since left this dwelling. But I delight in ye flickering light of a grotesque pumpkyn and so carveth one myself for mine own pleasure. Master Tescoe of whom I spake earlier doth provide a small one for a mere 65 pennies (260 farthings in old monie).

But ye speak the truth as to the urchins that trouble ye doorways of this hamlet on All Hallows Eve. I shall draw the sacking cloths at ye windows and hide behind ye large seating benches should I hark their approaching clamour. Tis a vile custom that I believe cometh from across the seas. What is wrongeth with bobbing of ye apples in one's own hovel?

I adviseth caution. I hereth that if your drawers are ne’re removed for regular exercising of the contents within one will require treatment for the hysteria.

Fear not, good sister. Mine drawers are dropped to satisfy mine husbande's lustful appetites oft enough that I warrant I shall not suffer the wandering of the womb.

Thou dost impart such information in too great a measure I fear (TDISIITGAM)

I have just discovered I am with child. I already have eight living children and we simply cannot afford to have another. Does anybody here 'know a woman'?

Sisters your words have provoked such merriment that tears of mirth do course down my cheeks,leaving streaks innthe grime. Verily you are most entertaining.

I am neare immediately to be cast forthe from myne home followyng Ye Greate Saga of Ye Soyle Pype whilst myne hovel is rydde of ye fowle influxes and is dried out with ye magick removers of ye moisture. Somme wille say it is ye consequence of permytting ye new- fangled water closet in myne hovel and that there is nowt wrong with ye shed in ye garden. However I'm blayming this on ye lords of ye management company of myne appartement who taketh all myne wealth for no good service.

I will remove to ye hostelrie for many nights ( at leyst a full circle of the moon's phases). I have this daye ordered emergency drawers from the Chapman Amazon so I need not visit ye publick washing rooms so many tymes.

Tis one year since Mistress @Sharrilanda commenced this thread. We should make merry and venture into an eating place to celebrate. Tis such a sorrow that we only have yon eating place of thee Harvest Folk in mine hamlet. . Although I do confess that I fool myself that I will only eat of the salad carte..
Dost any of the wise women of this thread knoweth of other fine hostelries with a fine kitchene ?

I dost hear that one Master Toby runs a well-frequented carvery but a few leagues hence, though 'tis an unruly place by all accounts, with carts and horses strewn all across the yard and some right trollopy goings-on within.

Verily Mistress @everywhichway does thou live close to mine own village in the Garden of England? We too have a carvery run by Master Toby some leagues hence which hast also (if you believest the gossip) been the scene of most disturbing goings on. Indeed, we have heardest tell of flashy carts drivene by arrogant young churls accompanied by young ladies wearing less sacking than I have at my hovel windows, all of whom have the obligatory Troutte Poutte. There are also rumours of the barterynge being done in the cart park of Straynge Substances which cause odd sensaytions, but I knowest not of such thynges.

Master Toby must have a very full purse and great riches to own such hostelries. He has an eatinge place within mine nearest city too, nit 10 miles away. However I didst suffer the gripes in my belly and didst spew mightily whence last i was there.

You are a bit premature here. Samhain is the spelling that came in centuries later. Villagers will want the proper original and authentic Samain meal.

Verily, 'tis time to break out the best mead again methinks - though some flagons and bottles most weird have appeared in mine hovel of late. Who is this master Bailey who has left his strange libation here, I ask myself for example?

All.i know of Master Bailey is that this Yule he appears to have had ye connubials with Terry ( who be he?), although I knowe not what an "orange" is.