What up, Shakespeare?

Sorry I’ve been so terrible about updating the past few weeks. Europe leaves little internet time. But–I’m back in the US so posts will be annoyingly frequent now. You’re welcome.

We’re playing catch-up now so I’ll let you know when we get current.

A couple of weeks ago, our travels included Stratford upon Avon, which is where my boy, Billy Shakespeare, was born and finished out his days. It was really small, but also really lovely!

Shakespeare’s birthplace/family home
Just so quaint!

Apparently, we use the phrase “sleep tight” because back in the day, kids would sleep on a trundle bed (from under the parent’s bed) and it consisted of a thin mattress on a weaved rope base that had to be tightened every night before being used. I thought that was pretty interesting, though I’m sure it’s pretty lame information to everyone else.

Shakespeare had an oh-so-scandalous (hah) shotgun wedding (Anne Hathaway was preggo). I think that’s pretty funny. Fun fact.

Anyway, he’s buried in a Church. And it was lovely.

His grave

Cool, huh?

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