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By the time the Festival of St. Yarrow is upon you, you can feel a great desire throughout the castle to move on towards winter with the same optimistic spirit His Saintedness demonstrated by leaping off the Cliffs of Caldoun with his homespun wings affixed to his back. The monastic inventor sought to fly closer to God; an inspiring sentiment from a story that works much better when certain key details about his end are overlooked.

The castle grounds are bedecked with vines and sculpted wings, the traditional decorations for the season, and a holiday atmosphere prevails.

You've just finished a bit of jigging in the Throne Room when Queen Hero beckons you aside.

"Dear fool, I trust that amply well you ken how satisfied with all your work we've been," she says. You bow your head, preening a bit at such open praise.

"The coming feast gives opportunity for us in measure small to honor thee…"

"I accept, ever so graciously, with deepest thanks," you say, raising your hands as if overwhelmed by the offer.

Her Majesty blinks. "…as Chief Food Taster for His Majesty," she finishes.

Now it's your turn to blink. And that's why you always let them finish the sentence first before you say, 'I accept.'

Onward