The Irish Are Coming! The Irish Are Coming!

It was a beautiful day for a faire in Caer Leon, home of King Arthur and his court. It felt more like late summer than mid-Fall, but there was plenty of lemonade and limeade to slake our thirst.

Arthur's and Guenevere's wedding is still a year away, but there was plenty of action because a delegation from Eire is in Britain to negotiate a treaty. As always seems to happen, today's session of the King's Court was filled with intrigue, arguments, and fights. But no chess match, because Arthur decided to accept the challenge under "Irish Rules." The fighters for each individual contest were selected by pulling names out of hats.

Not only was there an abundance of Irish nobles and fighters, but Caer Leon was overrun by pirates, who were there for Pirate Weekend at the faire. No one was safe! And the Sheriff was no help, because he was too busy making his quota of Official Writs of Justice. He had a very small stop sign which he would place flat on the street. When an unsuspecting visitor passed the stop sign, he would issue a Writ for failure to stop at a stop sign. He did it once quite near to us, and I went over and stood on the sign, covering it completely with my feet. “What sign?” I asked him as he attempted to issue a writ to a group of visiting dignitaries. And what did I get for my trouble? A Writ for disturbing the peace, obstructing justice and/or annoyance of a public official; excessive jubilation or other acts of frivolity; failure to stop at a stop sign (my toes extended over the edge of the sign); and, just for the heck of it, treason. Meanwhile, just across the street, a couple of pirates were distributing stolen goods!

It was also Deaf Awareness Day at the faire, and ASL (American Sign Language) interpreters, or “Finger Dancers,” were everywhere. It gave me a chance to use my very rusty ASL.

It is always fun to see the variety of costumes on the cast and visitors alike. A couple of years ago at the New York faire, our group was stopped by a purveyor of rental costumes. “Get thee garb,” he shouted at those not in costume. Then he proceeded to point at each of us, saying,

"Garb,

Garb,

Garb,

Garb,

Garb,

Wrong,

Wrong!"

(Note: All of these pictures are from today's visit to Caer Leon, used to illustrate the story of what happened in Sterling.)

And so, after a great day at the Connecticut Renaissance Faire, we returned to the mundane world to treasure our memories as we wait for next year's season.

Peace,
Jeffri