Vacation Blogging: Knight/Hawks (Day 2--Sunday)

a.k.a "Our Day at the Texas Renaissance Festival, or How to Survive the 16th Century in a Plastic Poncho."

Yep, it rained.

Not the whole day. Just enough to make the ground puddly and slick and everything damp. We also think a lot fewer of the performers were wandering around, so we heard a lot less music than expected. Because it wasn't supposed to rain like that.

But the day was not a wash at all.

Especially after I bought a $5 purple poncho (the rest of the family had blue; the kids had rain jackets already). The ponchos did confuse the kids though. Poor Sis couldn't identify any grown-ups but me unless she was standing directly in front of them looking up, which she found enormously frustrating when she kept looking for Gommie.

Why?
Okay, so what were we doing at the festival anyway, especially in the rain? I've been going to the Texas Renaissance Festival since the 1970s, probably 1977 or so, just a little after it first opened. When Gommie first took Banana and I, it was just a small affair with one person taking tickets at the front, which I distinctly remember entering on wooden planks because of all the mud. I also remember the mean and scary witch that kept bugging my little sister, to the point of making her cry, until Gommie went ballistic on the woman and scared her away. And I've been back several times, with Gommie and Banana at least one more time (or two), with my aunt P, with high school friends, with college friends, even with Mama several years ago. I even have a fantastic costume that I bought at the festival in Bristol, WI, that I love to wear--a multi-layered affair in mauve and green. It's not practical to wear around young kiddos and would've been ruined in the mud, but maybe I'll bring it to Texas again sometime. Yep, I get into the faires. And so when we chose October as our vacation, I just knew that we had to go. And my folks and Banana and Soccer were good sports to humor me and come along. The kids were too. (Mama loves faires too and so didn't need any coercing).

Food, Glorious Food
Three, count them, three funnel cakes for two small kids. It was pretty much the only food they ate. And they did have to "share" with the adults who wouldn't buy their own funnel cakes--no, nobody wanted a whole one--so they just kept mooching off the kids. The kids loved those funnel cakes, the name for which Sis kept forgetting, though she definitely remembered that she liked them without all that sticky powdered sugar. And, you know, I think she's right; they're better without the "snow."

Otherwise, Mama and I loved the Scotch egg, which is a hard-boiled egg encased in sausage and then deeped fried in a flour batter. You eat it with dijon mustard. Yum. Those and turkey legs are the Renaissance Festival! But of course, being a "good" vegetarian, I only ate the egg. Enjoying that sausage essence all the while . . . .

I also liked the black bean soup I had, which had bell peppers and onions and lots of cumin, maybe even a little vinegar, just lots of flavor in what could have easily been an out-of-a-can festival food. I'm going to try to make it at home.

Dressed to Impress
Okay, so I already mentioned the ponchos. But I didn't mention the purple garland I wore when I didn't have my hoodie up! Yep, stereotypical garb for non-serious Ren Faire attendees, but I love to have something in the spirit to wear and for just over $10, some flowers and ribbons make me feel almost like a lady of the court. The old garlands were better, made of dense bundles of real dried flowers in wonderful arrays of colors and with long flowing ribbons in matching colors. Now, of course, it's all faux silk flowers and shorter ribbons, though mine was pretty enough with deep purple and some dark greenery. Some of the flowers look more like flowers than others. For a few years, when I was a kid, I actually made my own garland with florist wire and tape, choosing my favorite flowers and ribbons. Mine were as good as any of those yesterday.

Of course, the costumes are one of the highlights of the fair, both the ones for sale (of which there are many vendors) and the ones on official participants (identifiable by special TRF badge) and serious visitors. I'm always amazed at what women can and will do with cleavage. I've never really been inclined or able to use mine as a chin rest. In that, my fashion sense is more Victorian lady than Ren Faire wench. But I do love seeing all the elaborate court garb (though, really, the woman dressed as Queen Catherine of Aragon should not have been wearing her hair loose and down) and would, if possible, purchase a similar grand costume to wear.

Music Hath the Power . . .
There wasn't as much music this year because all those beautiful period instruments are wooden and thus susceptible to damage in the rain. But we heard some. Actually, Bud noticed it first and in a downpour dragged us out of our dry spot shopping in a pavilion to chase down a lane in search of drums and bagpipes. And there, cowering under the funnel cake stand--ah, more funnel cakes--was Tartanic, a rockin' Scottish group. Bud danced and twirled and gyrated to the beat, loving it. And two hours later, when we were eating--guess what?!--the band came on again and so me in my garland and Bud in his rain jacket danced our Scottish puddle dance out in the grass without getting rained on.

. . . . To Soothe the Savage Beast
I think, hands down (with Sis's dissenting vote for the jousts), the favorite part of the festival for our group was the falconry show, with the red tail hawk and turkey vulture and barred owl familiar to most, as well as more rare birds whose names I don't recall (including some kind of African hawk that is almost as fast as the fastest creature on earth, the Peregrine Falcon, and an owl that is the largest in the world). Sis and Bud sat rock still for the whole show which included quite a bit of didactic material on the various species. But who cares when you can marvel at those birds of prey? What amazes me is that these wild birds are so well-trained that they don't just fly off in search of turkey legs, which we are warned in advance to hide. But the festival is crawling with food and the birds, who must not be hungry with all the treats they get, just stay put and do their flying thing. Really, really close to the heads of the audience. And not always to the exact specification of the falconer.

On Target
Perhaps second only to the falconer was archery. I'm not sure who started it, probably Aunt Banana or Gommie, but we all ended up shooting arrows at the archery range. Pop and Mama were the best, hitting the paper targets each time they shot. The rest of us did hit the hay, which was better than the arrows landing in the dirt (and much better than I thought I'd do). But at some point our aim didn't matter. It was just fun.

Treasures
If Mama was our William Tell, Bud was a little Robin Hood carrying around an oversized bow that Mama got him (sans the accompanying metal-tipped arrows!). He was pleased as punch to have the bow and spent most of the rest of the day (which was almost over at this point, though this post is not) plucking the string. It hasn't left his side since (except to visit Gommie's friends today, because, well, the bow is big and wooden and the hostess had a nice house with breakable things. As it was, he and Sis made a nice mess of the Mah Jongh game, but that's for tomorrow's post). I think Pop feels a bit sorry for him, though, and I won't be at all surprised if some less-dangerous arrows with foamy tips or something aren't made or located.

Sis's treasure came from the fairies. She and Gommie came across at troupe of fairies at some point and, though Sis just stood and stared at them, obviously interested but in no way daring to approach them, one of them approached her and gave her a shiny green stone, a magic faerie rock. She was so amazed, so proud. She carried that rock in her tight fist all day, entrusting it to an adult only if necessary. Later she did a dig-for-gems game and gathered a whole little pouch of crystalline rocks but they were not in the same category as the magic faerie rock, which was kept safely separate.

She also received several flowers during the grand parade. As she again stood motionless but intrigued by the parade participants, more than one came over to her and presented her with flowers, first a pink rose from a court lady in pink, and then a carnation. As well as some green plastic beads. Bud, by then was starting to feel a bit jealous--he came late to the fairy gathering and didn't get a rock and no one handed him any flowers--so Gommie--bless all grandmothers--helped him attract the attention of some flower throwers. But best of all, a kindly lord bestowed on Bud a little silver-painted wooden dagger! For the rest of the day he carried flowers in one hand and dagger in the other, an odd image of peace and war.

Those were the best things procured that day, though we came home with a few extra souvenirs--a t-shirt, a collectible pin, a gift for the babysitter, a gift for my aunt who until recently was a yearly habitue of the festival and the Sea Devil Tavern (noted to be not recommended for children), a skein of coral hand spun and dyed yarn for me, and a surprise from Mama--a little decorative wooden fairy door that I can put in some corner of the house to let fairies in and out!

Loose Ends
And so we headed home around 2:30, having fully enjoyed the festival for 5 1/2 hours despite the rain. In fact, we were glad of the rain, because only 7,000 people were said to be in attendance, as opposed to 17,000 the day before. I can't imagine.

Some final thoughts and images:

• Sis loved riding the carousel and proudly sat on the bunny, though Gommie at first mistook the various creatures and put her on a kangaroo!
• Sis was also intrigued by a Papa and Mama Elf, two little Gnomes in Red and Green hats whom she approached, recognizing them from books and our garden figures.
• Only Uncle Soccer was intrigued by the elephants and nobody would ride with him.
• The kids' games on offer are a waste of money--come on, faire people, design some better games for the little ones.
• Dad and Uncle Soccer (and the kids) had never been before. Dad at one point turned to me and said, "I think some of these people think this is real." And yes, I think some festival people travel the circuit and live in the Renaissance several months of the year. I'm glad just to visit.
• I couldn't for the life of me remember yesterday the names of all of Henry VIII's wives, who are featured one at a time at the festival. Here's a way to remember: 3 Catherines, 2 Annes, and a Jane (not in that order or exact spelling--the Catherines are different; though, the last Catherine was named after the first). And their fates? Divorced, beheaded, died. Divorced, beheaded, survived.

I can't believe how big it's all gotten, from those days when Real Musgrave sat in a tent signing his posters with little dragons and runes and there were only some crafters, my favorite fest musical group called Celtic Stone, elephant rides, Scotch eggs, only a few permanent buildings and lots more open space, and the SCA sparrers battering at each other several times a day--back when you got in at a reduced rate if you came in costume! Bigger isn't always better, but really, the Texas Renaissance Festival is the best.

More tomorrow, about today.