THE Herald’s coverage of Women’s Institute activities is a mirror of life in rural Eden and shows there is still buoyancy and versatility in the villages.

The movement is 90 years old and some local WIs have flourished for much of that time.

There was recently an 85th anniversary at Bolton (Appleby), for instance, prompting one member to say of the founders: “Yes, they made jam and sang Jerusalem, but the movement has always been about much more than that. Otherwise, it would not be going strong today.”

Household skills and homeliness are reflected in press reports, which invariably contain a lip-smacking sentence or two. Do you fancy midsummer dream pudding at Asby, quiche followed by fruit crumble at Melmerby or hotpot and raspberry pavlova at Blencowe?

Programs for meetings are rich in variety. At Gamblesby, a sketch, written and acted by members, was followed by an archivist’s talk on local history and a display of old photographs.

Serious national issues are also debated — the closure of post offices at Sebergham, the threat to hospitals at Stainmore and the price of a bottle of milk at Soulby.

The WI page overall is heartening evidence that the movement in Cumbria continues to thrive.

Interestingly, one of the biggest WIs in Britain, at Yarmouth, recently featured in an hour-long program on BBC Four television, and it has to be said that the TV “stars” differed somewhat in style from their Cumbrian counterparts, preferring early-evening drinks of champagne to customary tea and biscuits.

They met in a swish yacht club to hear a talk by a divorce lawyer and their president, a snazzy lady in a short skirt, was young and go-getting, rather than middle-aged and homely.

CRICKET’S BLITHE SPIRIT

An item in this column on how versifier John Bayliffe recorded a defeat of Penrith first team cricketers by Shap village team, back in 1951, stirred memories of another blithe spirit who wrote light-heartedly about the game.

Although his first love was fell walking, Frank Alcock was a keen cricketer, captain of the Penrith club’s third eleven and a talented humorist, who entertained club-mates with verses about their mighty deeds. Frank used his imagination in works like The Tynefield Test — a fanciful account of how Ted Dexter’s England team succumbed to Penrith thirds — captained by F. Alcock, of course.

It seems the Test players of 1962 never recovered from a disastrous start — a “hat-trick” by the third team’s opening bowler, Dick Winter.

The first of Dick’s victims was struck on the side of the head by the opening delivery of the day.

“How’s that?” screamed the third teamers.

“That’s out,” the umpire responded. “LUG before wicket!”

Frank Alcock, for many years headmaster of Calthwaite School, had versatile talents as a writer. His cricket verses are hilarious, especially for those who remember his era as a cricket club member, which started in 1961. Sadly, he died in 1989.

Some of Frank’s masterpieces recently came to light again and, with the agreement of his son, John (Olly) Alcock, of Carlisle, the Herald is producing a small book of the verses as a contribution to the cricket club’s ground centenary celebrations.

ANCIENT AND MODERN

Next-door to Woolworth’s store in Middlegate, Penrith, is an eye-catching blend of “ancient and modern”.

This was once Williamson Yard and inscribed beneath the name are the year of its creation, 1697, and several symbols, including a large pair of shears.

The shears somehow seem appropriate in view of the present-day use of the one-time yard — by a hair stylist!

For a door covering the former opening bears the inscription: “Hair design. Ladies and Gents. Kerastase appointed saloon. L’Oreal Professional. Appointment not always necessary.”

What a wide range of history the old yard must have seen — from being a hideaway from Bonny Prince Charlie and his Scottish rebels in 1745 to specialising in unisex hair design in 2007.

SCREECHING CHAMPIONSHIPS

Do top tennis players really have to grunt and screech whenever they strike the ball?

Thank goodness the Wimbledon championships are all over for another year, so that we no longer have to endure the hideous noises uttered by many of the stars, presumably intended to impress spectators with the muscle-power being expended.

However, onlookers know the screeching to be quite needless, as some of the hottest servers play their tennis in relative silence.

Only in recent years has this affectation come into the game. Cannot something be done to muzzle the screamers?

In an almost-forgotten era, tennis was played peacefully on Penrith Castle Park courts, the only utterances being the occasional “Well played” or a muffled curse when a mishit volley sailed on to the nearby bowling green..