By Henrietta Clay, Senior Features Correspondent
Each Late Rains Month, when the skies are grey and optimism seems a bit of a reach, the village of North Saddle hosts the Day of Reasonable Triumph — a modest but deeply sincere festival dedicated to celebrating things that more or less worked out.
Now in its 84th official year (or 89th, depending on how one defines “official”), the Day of Reasonable Triumph began as a simple gathering to commemorate the near-completion of a small footbridge that, while ultimately unfinished, at least didn’t collapse. The bridge still stands, albeit somewhat sideways, and is decorated with bunting during the festival — though crossing it remains discouraged.
The event opens with a Procession of Modest Victories, in which villagers carry symbolic representations of things they’ve accomplished that year: repaired teapots, mildly improved handwriting, not shouting during council meetings. Children often walk alongside small wagons bearing unspilled soup.
At midday, attendees gather for the Ceremony of Measured Applause, where a bell is rung once for each declared success. Notable recent bell rings include: “Didn’t fall asleep in the bath,” “Convinced goat to return voluntarily,” and “Remembered third cousin’s name unprompted.”
The festival’s signature meal is the Victory Stew, which contains whatever is on hand, stirred clockwise, and garnished with a sprig of humility. Attendees are encouraged to eat slowly and tell at least one story that ends with the phrase: “Well, it wasn’t ideal, but it’ll do.”
Entertainment includes performances of the Almost Choir, whose members rehearse exactly twice and perform whatever material they agree on mid-song. There is also the Reluctant Tug-of-War, which no one particularly tries to win.
Mayor Elspeth Trawn, who once famously said, “Celebration is not always for the victorious, but for the persistent,” presides over the closing toast: a shared teacup passed solemnly and without comment.
Visitors from other villages often arrive confused but leave comforted.
It may not be a grand event, but in a kingdom built on charm, mud, and half-finished deeds, the Day of Reasonable Triumph remains one of the most quietly beloved festivals of the year.