But my assessed lecture went really, really well. I got a 73 on it, which to American readers is heart-stoppingly low. But in fact, it's a distinction! So even though my gut reaction is always awful when I get my British grades, after a few seconds, my brain kicks in and tells me how well I've done.
But this post is not about grades and lectures. It's about Devon. Because Devon is amazing. One of the reasons my summer has been so packed is because I've been helping other people with their building surveying recording and other such weekends. I spent one week in June surveying a mill at Castle Howard, which was amazing experience but oh so time consuming. (Though I was also fed a lemon cake that was so amazing that I proposed on the spot.)
And this weekend, I went to Devon for a timber-framing course. Originally, I wasn't going to go, but as the course got nearer, people dropped out, and I stepped up so that a friend (she of the proposal-worthy lemon cake) wouldn't have to make the seven hour drive by herself. Also, carpentry looked fun.
Well. I might amend that statement. Carpentry is hard. Really, really difficult. But also rewarding as heck. In three days, myself and six other amateurs constructed a green oak porch, and while it turned out a wee bit wobbly, it was solid! And all my mortices and joints fit! Talk about a sense of accomplishment.
(Lath making. On a shave horse. Most of the time I had to use the carpenter's son's horse because my legs are so short. Sigh.)
(Hammer of Thor. Charlotte does not approve of my antics.)
Charlotte and I drove down early Thursday morning, and arrived in rainy Devon around two in the afternoon. We set up camp in the rain, ate dinner in the rain, and played cards, in the rain. And didn't sleep for fear of being blown away in the night. The next morning, our course tutor, one Henry Russel told us we could sleep on the floor of the bake house. And then the caretaker of the Yarner Trust, which was running the course, agreed. Thankfully. Because holy cow did it rain. It was niceish the second night, but there was torrential rain the third. During the day, we had a barn to work in, and we learned all about timber and medieval carpentry practices. We learned to scribe joints--basically figuring out how wobbly wood fits together in a nice, tight joint (and the bane of my existance), we learned to lay out frames, and fit them together in multiple dimensions, we learned how to drill and chisel tenons and mortices (the holes tenons fit into), and learned to make pegs, lath and probably a millon other things. So it was a packed three days. Usually this course is over five days, and I think it would have been better in five. But three is what we had, so three is what we worked with. In the end we had a fantastic porch complete with seats and lathe sides, and two happy owners who fed us cake and tea. 
(The group of us feeling well chuffed.)
(Women laughing at lath.)
So it was an excellent weekend. I have a new name for a pub: The Lathing Maiden. I have only one slightly clamped finger. I have allergies from hell. I have now broken into an English Heritage property by accident (it was the largest cruck-framed building in the country, how could I resist?) And I have a new appreciation for medieval carpentry practices. What a weekend.
