Fell Gather

We started our Saturday out by going the annual Cumbrian “Fell Gather.” I’m kind of a sucker for local festivals, so from the first minute I heard about the Gather, I knew I wanted to go. Something about the phrase “Fell Gather” makes me immediately think of the film The Wicker Man—Like it’s some sort of secret pagan festival, where foreigners are hunted for sport. (I was, of course, hoping that the day would end differently for us than it did for the main character in Wicker Man.) So, my curiosity demanded that I attend.

Getting Matt to agree to go was another matter. I had to try to sell it a few different ways before he finally agreed. Not surprisingly, my “Wicker Man” comparison didn’t exactly fuel his desire to go. (I believe his exact words were... "meh.")  Next, I tried to entice him to go by explaining it was like a country fair. Images of endless 4-H events from his childhood cropped up, again making it a no go. (Eye roll, then... "meh.")  Finally, I tried describing it as a farmers market. This peaked his interest a little. With the door opened a crack, I sealed the deal by mentioning it was sponsored by a local brewery. He finally caved with a hearty, "meh...alright."

Teasing aside, Matt was a good sport about agreeing to go. And as it turned out, we all had a lot of fun together. The festival was really exactly what we thought it would be: 4-H meets farmer’s market with free beer samples. (Sorry Cumbrian beer, but you're pretty awful. Flat, bland, and weird. My American tasebuds just aren't digging it.) We watched a demonstration on sheep shearing, which was surprisingly interesting. The farmer clipped the entire sheep with hand shears in about five minutes. It looked like a sweaty, smelly struggle. And the kicker: The fancy sheep can fetch 2 pounds a pelt, but the wool of ‘regular’ sheep only goes for about 20p profit each (like, 35 cents). How anyone can make a living as a sheep farmer, I’ll never know.

The farmer’s market itself was actually great, and well worth attending. We left with hand-made sausages, bread, a sticky toffee pudding, two different kinds of local salami, bacon, and some fantastic blue cheese. I can’t wait to tuck into all of it for dinner. It’s going to be awesome.

Frankie had fun, too. She got to climb inside a fire truck, and had her face painted. In line for face painting, I met a nice older lady named Betty who, after asking where I was from and hearing Colorado said, "Aye...! So you'll be the Americans living up at the Kirkborough House, then?" Word travels fast out here. We weren't even Maryport this morning--We were in Workington--yet still everyone seems to know who we are. Crazy!

On our way out of the festival, we got some crepes and had a picnic on the hillside. A pretty darn fine morning, all around.

Afterward, we went home for a bit and then I headed back out with Frank to a birthday party at a nearby place called “Monkey Madhouse.” It had slides, ball pits, a big climbing structure. The works.

I hung out with the other moms while Frankie played and got all sugared up on punch and cupcakes. Side note: One of the other moms at the party saw me at the Fell Gather, and said that I had apparently been talking to one of the male stars of the long-running British soap opera "Coronation Street." If I had any clue whatsoever what that show was, I'm sure I'd be excited.

When we got home, it was time for the World Cup. Matt and Frankie popped some popcorn and are sitting down to watch it now. I tell you, I never thought I’d see the day when 2/3 of our family willingly sat down to watch a sporting event. The enthusiasm for the match around here is pretty contagious. In the car today we played a game called “count the English flags!” They were *everywhere.” Even women pushing babies down the street had flags on their strollers. So, we’ve apparently caved to the local pressure.

Tomorrow morning I’m going to head over to Workington to go to a “boot sale,” which is what they call a yard sale out here. Instead of having the sale in a person’s yard, everyone loads their best junk up in their car and heads out to a parking lot to display their wares on a folding table. It’ll be my first one since moving here, and I’m totally excited. I love me some junk.