This was on the first day of fall and it felt like the last, right as the weather turns cold for good. This was only fitting because even though we’ve only gone to the Feast of the Hunter’s Moon twice, to me it, in and of itself, epitomizes fall. The Feast is an event celebrating the Native American fort in what would become a French trading post in New France in the mid-1700’s (you know…all that is fun for some history nerds). However I'm pretty certain that this event now primarily exists for local groups to make money by selling to unsuspecting patrons items they would never consider purchasing otherwise, but do so under the guise of good fun.
That being said, I submit for your review the list of foods my family purchased and ate. I'm not proud of the list. And actually taking the time to see it here in writing makes me a little disgusted:
- Sausage on a stick
- Homemade rootbeer (no carbonation and a little on the syrupy sweet side)
- Porkchops (I do not generally eat porkchops because I'm a texture eater. The fat or even the prospect of biting off a fatty piece makes me a little gaggy just to consider it...but I did eat part of one today that my child didn't want to finish; we don't throw food away and I hadn’t considered bringing Ziploc bags for leftovers; note to self for next time.)
- Smelt (I really should have known better. My husband had wandered off and when he returned to the group, I had not paid attention to the direction from which he had come. He handed me a greasy bag with what appeared to be fried potato wedges. Who doesn't love fried potato wedges? They are deep fried goodness, I don't care who you are. And as soon as I bit into it, it was abundantly clear…with the little fishy bones which were sticking out… this was no potato. I did not spit it out but I declined his offer of more.Y.U.C.K.O. )
- Croquenolles (which more than made up for the smelt to which I had been subjected…it is tasty fried dough, coated with cinnamon and sugar. Better than a donut or fried biscuit or anything to which I could liken it. And it doesn’t even have chocolate in it, so you know it’s good if I’m raving about it and there’s no chocolate involved.)
There were many other possible sustenance options of which we did not take part; there was simply more than we could try. My husband is already salivating over the possibility of trying the bridies next year.
|Actually I don't care for the red dress..it's the lady behind her in pink and brown that I would prefer...just in case anyone's looking to purchase a little number for me.|
|This is our future, I'm sure of it...can't you just picture my husband in a long curly brown wig?|
There were also many other costumes indicative of the time period:
|French Habitant (and they were singing in this picture); as an aside, don't you L.O.V.E. the lady in the blue cape who is sitting down? She looks BEYOND thrilled.|
Lace-making was interesting too…
And don’t let the PBA lie and say they weren’t watching…especially the younger one. He was all in there (I submit the photo as proof, Your Honor). True, he was trying to play with the pins to see how sharp they were, but he was engaged in the whole scene; don’t let him tell you otherwise.
The PBA even looked with some bit of interest at the booth selling books on the multiple facets of the time period. If it hadn’t cost almost $20, I’m positive one of them would have forked over the money for the book entitled “History of Undergarments”. Who am I kidding? I wanted to buy that book.
To further authenticate the ambiance, there were lots of campfires sprinkled about…some for cooking and some just for the fun of an open flame (it was cold that day too…did I mention that it was cold?).
I will admit that 24 hours later, my eyes were still burning from the blowing smoke and everything we had with us smelled like we’ve been sitting IN a campfire. But it was good clean fun. Well, it was fun anyway…the rain the night before made things a little muddy at the beginning.