The Third Annual Celtic Music Festival dawned as a hot day -- the weather was hot, so many Celtic music fans stayed inside where they enjoyed AC until mid-afternoon. We had some hardy souls who dared the Texas sun; they got to hear some fantastic music for their entry fee -- as for Joy and myself, we were vendors -- sorry, merchants! -- of fine jewelry. Ye Merry Olde Hangman was there with his wife and daughters; they had an impromptu axe throwing contest in between sets. Shipwreck and his wife were there with kids' gew-gaws. Faire Trade and the snow cone people sold icy cold treats because most people were too hot to enjoy the kitchen's offerings. Not that the food was bad -- we were just too hot to think of hot dogs, corny dogs, etc. The regulars focused on "fairemily," a term that refers to folks who are closer than friends since we all "get each other's back" because we all work the faire during the regular season, then we come out to "represent" during the off-season. Other merchants and vendors may come and go, but the "fairemily" stick around throughout the year ... Last year, we lost one dear member of this select group, James Harlin, when he collapsed and died in June. His memorial garden suffered the ravages of the heat and rainless summer, so we'll have to plant again so it can be green & beautiful when spring comes next year.
Unfotunately, the audience was small -- partly because Middlefaire opened this weekend which pulled some folks down to Hillsboro to perform or to participate. We had one sale -- it paid the gar money and proved that jewelry eventually will find a home. A while later, Marcia arrived; we talked dolls, since Joy had brought two of her older elf-dolls out of storage to enjoy the festival. Marcia discovered the differences between the more expensive resin bjds and the lighter weight, less expensive ones ... Then we put all the merchandise away; the sun had descended, and Marcia proved to be the last person to enter the gates.
Music under the stars ... so romantic, so poignant, so -- mosquito-bitten. The performers got buzzed worse than we did. It didn't spoil the notes, but the physical twitches occasionally distracted the eye. Those blood-sucking females definitely went after the Iron Hills Vagabonds and Jeb Marum. We'd seen the performers during the Faire, and they didn't disappoint in concert ... though the boys commented that they didn't have quite the repertoire as some of the older performers. Yes, the singers struggled NOT to duplicate one another's songs, although I have a feeling that it happened occasionally. I particularly liked "Wild Mountain Thyme," even though the boys clowned a bit -- as well as Marum's song about being a transplanted Yankee. (Yes, honey, Boston boys ARE Yankees ... in your case, however, you're not a damned Yankee.) We bought the DVD of Marum in performance to share with folks who might not catch his act during Faire.
And, yes, I recommend the music at Four Winds Faire and the Celtic Music Festival -- good acts and good times.
We crashed in the booth last night ... and the dawn came up like thunder. Well, to tell the truth, it crept up on little cat feet, although our cats are more of the bound and thud type of feline. After quickly breaking down the booth, we headed out -- and surprised a big blue heron and a white egret having their breakfast in the Mud Flat Creek. The heron took off while the egret froze as if to say, "I'm bright white, but you can't see me if I stand absolutely still." We admired the feathery ones before heading back to Lancaster.
We'll be back when the October moon shines bright over the darkling fields ...
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