I made a mental note to check with Gricolus to find out why.Our village neighbours brewed beer from barley, ours and theirs, and kept their own cattle...and sheep. We should have to see if their animals could be improved with mating with ours – or visa versa, but I doubted that somewhat. We had had a good wool spinning shed, but half of the spinning slaves had run away. I suspected most would be dead now. This was not a safe place to be an unknown traveller.Cheese, meat, bread: these were our. Indignation still shaded her features. There was an awkward silence while we sipped our wine and tried to find the path back toward the garden of delights. Rather than trying to drag her back onto the path, I attempted a leisurely detour.“Oh, I just remembered something I wanted to share with you. I found an article on The Atlantic.com last night that's related to what we were just talking about. And it has some historical and cultural significance as well. Especially for geeks like. More

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