Vikings, Fairies and Medieval Merriments

I'm currently pining at the nearness of Georgia's third birthday. I haven't helped myself by wrapping all of her presents over a month in advance. Nearly-three-years has flown, and though I am excited for her to open goodies, I'm listening to how clearly she is beginning to speak and I feel short-changed of time. My baby is getting too tall.

Anyway!

Mr Quinn took us into Warrington, yesterday, for ale tankards and donkey rides at the Medieval Market, neither of which we saw. Instead, we pottered about some book, craft and nik-nak shops, and we were in our element. There were maidens, men donning chainmail and armours, and an archery pitch where you could aim at a live knight target - with sucker ended tips, thankfully.

Amongst our haul, Alastair found a quirky little Viking and a broken, but exquisite, metalwork musical church. I did have to refuse him taking home a tankard shaped as a bust of Henry VIII. The only place I could accomodate that would have been in the bin. He's lucky he got the Viking.

Of course, I found fairy things. Lots and lots of fairy things. A gorgeous photo album...

... and a lovely decorative for Georgia's bedroom.

 I must confess; I did encourage Georgia's inclination to all things pink and intricate as a facade to aquire our (my) own wonderfully hand-crafted fairy. 

 
Fairies Ofthe - threefairies was the first stall I noticed when we got to the market, and knew immediately that, before we left, my must-have urges must be met. Mr Quinn, fell for our ulterior motives, obviously. Hook, line and batted-eyelashes. Regardless, it would have been sinful to walk away from these, the sweetest little fair folk.  

Every fairy lover should have one.

She sits atop an equally beautiful treasure chest - also, purchased at the medieval market - which beholds a purple stone. Georgia calls her fairy "Pink", which is fortunate as most other characters are limited to a naming choice of "John", "Bob" or "Steve".

The stone within the chest was, yes, another purchase from yesterday. Since a stint of gold panning, at a farm we visited earlier in the year, Georgia has developed a precious fascination with stones and rocks. We did rock painting a few weeks back - thoroughly enjoyed by aforementioned nearly-three-year-old - and practically have an itinary of little boulders to account for before bed. Let me tell you; nearly-three-year-old never forgets, and no stone gets left behind! Our bedtime register will now include "na-nights" to Pink Fairy, John, Bob, Steve, and Purple Rock.

Back home, we tested out our new face paints by turning Mr Quinn into a Smurf.

I'll say no more about Daddy's face. As for nearly-three-year-old; I may be biased, but you can't disagree that she makes one adorable tiger cub.

And finally, I got books. For research. Two books. One retelling a vast collection of Celtic fairy tales. The other covering off Celtic Otherworld, and significantly, the Mythological Cycle and Tuatha De Danann.

Tonight, I will work.

Walking Dead, season three: you will not stop me this time!

Tittles and Crosses [12271]