WHY are people without the magic of a computer at their command prevented from assessing the beauty of the Cumbrian landscape?

The question is asked because the “Pride of Place” poll, publicised last month, is apparently limited to those who can “log on” to www.cumbria.gov.uk.

Local celebrities have already named their “proudest places”, which seems a strange term to use in identifying beauty spots.

Quite frankly, to select a single “proudest place” from the countless Cumbrian contenders is well nigh impossible!

Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, they say, and in Cumbria the loveliness is too widespread to point to a single scenic delight.

Ullswater, truly the queen of the lakes, is an obvious choice, but then so is the vast outlook of the Eden Valley when approached along the A66 from Stainmore.

Another long-range sight to inspire is that of the sleepy Pennines when travelling eastwards over Orton Scar, and there are smaller snapshots of delight in Warcop on rushbearing day, in the village greens of Maulds Meaburn and Askham, and cricket at Appleby, watched from across the Eden.

Personally, one of the most awe-inspiring viewpoints is from Penrith’s Beacon Edge, with the town nestling below and, beyond that, undulating fields rolling away to Ullswater in its frame of mountains.

MARTINMAS MEMORIES

Martinmas has slipped past without a murmur or a mention in the papers.

In Cumbrian towns like Penrith, Martinmas Tuesday was once a lively occasion, vital to the agricultural community.

Farm workers, who had not agreed to “stay on” with their current employers, headed for town for the hirings, hoping to be offered new posts for the ensuing half-year.

For a day, Burrowgate became a unique employment exchange, where farmers eyed potential labourers in the crowd and, on spotting a likely lad, entered into negotiations about his skills and how much money he expected to earn.

A farmer might ask, “Noo on lad, is tha ta hire an’ hoo much is tha assen?”

The lad would name the price for which he was willing to sell his labour for the next half-year, the farmer would bid him two or three pounds less and the bargaining would begin.

The worker also had a few questions, such as “Is thine a good meat shop, cos t’last Ah hed was a bad un” and “Hoo many coos d’yer milk and what time d’yer git finished of a neet?”

After much haggling over the wage, a bargain would be struck. The farmer handed the lad a shilling, according to custom, and the transaction was complete.

There was a lighthearted side to hiring day. Pubs did a roaring trade and Great Dockray became a fairground known as “the shows”.

The youth of Penrith joined in the fun with zest. Dodgem cars and the hurtling “Whip” were among favourites, while others tried to make a fortune on roll-a-penny stalls.

All this lies deep in the past, for newspaper advertising and changes in agriculture put paid to street hirings during the 1950s and “the shows” also went into decline.

PRIDE OF CUMBRIA

The Great North air ambulance, the “Pride of Cumbria”, is a familiar sight as it scuttles across the sky above Penrith.

People must be in peril, but who, why and where?

Some answers were given by BBC Television’s Real Rescues, a graphic series showing the air ambulance whizzing to the aid of road crash victims and a man who had been gored by a bull. The “Pride” and its crew of paramedics were the stars.

One woman, recovering in hospital after an accident, described the air ambulance’s swift service as “absolutely wonderful”.

The work of the crews is tough and responsible and they deserve the bonus of bird’s eye views of the Eden Valley and the Lake District as they return from missions of mercy.

WIVES TO BLAME?

As the footballers of Dynamo Kiev, in the Ukraine, slumped to defeat by Manchester United recently, the TV commentator revealed a curious reason for the poor performance.

Not a mention of 4-4-2 formations, game plans, tactics or bad decisions by the referee. The Dynamo Kiev manager blamed the players’ wives!

Just that! There was no more explicit explanation of the partners’ shortcomings. Could they be guilty of too much nagging or not providing nutritious porridge on match days? The possibilities were wide-ranging and fascinating, but not specified.

This is a completely new line in assessing footballers.

Can we expect the trend to spread and be reflected in headlines on Herald sports pages: “Penrith boss praises wives for inspiring big win”?

Forgive the mockery, but the fine game, football, sometimes lapses into daftness these days.