And yet within a month.
a little month
let me not think on it,
frailty thy name is woman!’
A little month!
Hamlet is not the only one that can’t believe his eyes at what too place just four small weeks ago. It feels like another age, Or another millennium since we flung ourselves into and out of the beaver festival. How could we ever have done it again? How could all those exhibits and musicians and children found their way to our shores and how could all the auction items finally have found their forever homes?
Magic, that’s how. Beaver Magic.
