Friday and Saturday were the days for Story City, Iowa (just off Highway 35, south of, oh, I don’t know–Clear Lake and Mason City, by about an hour).

We were in the lot by the Sons of Norway hall as before, but a reconfiguration put Denny and me (the only members of our group who came–the lodge got a discount) behind Sam the Viking and his beautiful Viking boat. The weather wasn’t bad on Friday, but the convection of the crowd currents didn’t bring many people back to us. We were able to spread knowledge to a few young guys who wandered in, but didn’t see a lot of traffic.

That evening, Denny and I stayed with the same sweet lady who’d hosted us last year, near Radcliffe, Iowa. (As I mentioned back then, my grandmother was born near Story City, and my grandfather near Radcliffe, so I felt right at home.) When I used her shower last year, I accidentally left my travel-size shampoo in her shower. When I used it again this year, there it was, right where I’d left it. So I reclaimed it.

That night it started raining, and although it stopped the following morning, the skies never cleared up. The nature of our Viking stuff (prone to rust) meant that we couldn’t set up a proper camp again. So we set up book sales and bead sales (we’re mighty bead merchants) inside the hall, as a pale substitute, and left when everybody else did, before 4:00 p.m. I sold a few books, but it wasn’t anything to write home about (unless I was writing to my grandmother’s home, in which case I could have hand-delivered it and saved a stamp).

I left Mrs. Hermanson packed when I got home, because Sunday was Danish Day, at Danebo Hall in Minneapolis. The day was overcast and cool, which was actually a good thing. No actual rain was predicted, and none showed up. So it was comfortable to wear Viking clothes (my cloak came in handy), and the crowds were good. Ragnar and I did one set of duels, which is always fun. As a bonus, the cool, wet air made his arthritis act up, so I was able to beat him on points. (Yes, I know that’s heartless, but I’m a ruthless Viking.)

Book sales, again, were low.

But you really came to see my tunic in its completed glory. This is it.