So I am spending this blustery cold evening at my desk writing, writing, writing. I am currently in the midst of Eleanor being released from Henry II's imprisonment upon his death, by her favorite son Richard. Despite being 66 at the time, Eleanor was beginning life anew, set to take her rightful place in Richard's government as he prepared for his coronation and eventual Crusade. It sometimes pains me that there is much we don't know, and will likely never know, about Eleanor. We don't even know what she looks like. The best we have is her effigy at Fontevraud, and that's certainly not done from life. If one was ever in need of a time machine, this is definitely an occasion that calls for it!
(Photo from Wikipedia)