Friday was a glorious Autumn day, marking the end of Summer and the beginning of a New Year. Known to most as Halloween and celebrated by many as Samhain (pronounced Sow'en) it is perhaps my favorite day of the year. My two pumpkins stood proudly between the mums on my porch steps, waiting to be carved into Jack-O-Lanterns to welcome the spirits of my deceased ancestors. The squirrels, being ever the pranksters, secretly carved a cavern into the back of one of them when I wasn't looking, probably as a goodwill gesture for all the cashews and potato chips that my husband has been throwing their way. I brought in the one that was left intact and carved a happy face, saving the seeds to be dried out and baked as a salty snack for another day. I was graciously invited to help my mother- in- law decorate the public library for their Red-Hat Halloween celebration. So donning a Happy Halloween tee shirt, I was picked up by one sultry flapper and a Little Red Riding Hood (who at 95 years old is as cute as a button and as sharp as a tack) and headed over to help with the decorations. In no time, the room was as festive as a kids party, as a jovial group of costumed ladies paraded in to celebrate. I took my cue to leave when it was pointed out that I was just a kid... maybe a Pink Hat gal, but certainly not old enough for the Red Hats. So home I traveled to prepare my celebration for the New Year and also to get ready for the little tricksters who would be begging at my door. Otis, my bunny was in no mood for his little Merlin costume, and I didn't argue knowing full well that my grandpuppies would be coming over dressed in costume to get their bony treats, and he would be upset enough over that event. Sure enough, the bulldogs arrived, Lily as a Giants fan and Betty as a bee, and Otis needed to be caged to protect them from certain ninja kicks to the head (he is a little jealous and a lot feisty). As I cooked cornbread stuffed pork chops and listened to my favorite harpsichordist, Igor Kipnis, play Bach and Beethoven, the sun slowly melted under the tree tops. My son came over for the night, as he was having a Halloween fright of a serious ant infestation at his apartment, and so the table was set for six. He didn't even mind as I gave my lengthy blessing for the coming year and toasted our deceased grandparents who were such an important part of our past. As this dinner is an important part of the celebration, the candy bowl was left on the front porch with a help yourself note while we ate. Afterwards, my husband and I retreated to the porch and handed out the candy to the Halloweeners who came, and exchanged pleasantries with some new parents in the neighborhood. As the Caspar the Ghost candle and my Jack-O-Lantern flickered in the dark night, and the revelers dwindled, we took turns reciting our sacred poetry to the wind in preparation for the long Winter season that was coming our way.
Monday, November 3, 2008
As The Wheel Turns
Friday was a glorious Autumn day, marking the end of Summer and the beginning of a New Year. Known to most as Halloween and celebrated by many as Samhain (pronounced Sow'en) it is perhaps my favorite day of the year. My two pumpkins stood proudly between the mums on my porch steps, waiting to be carved into Jack-O-Lanterns to welcome the spirits of my deceased ancestors. The squirrels, being ever the pranksters, secretly carved a cavern into the back of one of them when I wasn't looking, probably as a goodwill gesture for all the cashews and potato chips that my husband has been throwing their way. I brought in the one that was left intact and carved a happy face, saving the seeds to be dried out and baked as a salty snack for another day. I was graciously invited to help my mother- in- law decorate the public library for their Red-Hat Halloween celebration. So donning a Happy Halloween tee shirt, I was picked up by one sultry flapper and a Little Red Riding Hood (who at 95 years old is as cute as a button and as sharp as a tack) and headed over to help with the decorations. In no time, the room was as festive as a kids party, as a jovial group of costumed ladies paraded in to celebrate. I took my cue to leave when it was pointed out that I was just a kid... maybe a Pink Hat gal, but certainly not old enough for the Red Hats. So home I traveled to prepare my celebration for the New Year and also to get ready for the little tricksters who would be begging at my door. Otis, my bunny was in no mood for his little Merlin costume, and I didn't argue knowing full well that my grandpuppies would be coming over dressed in costume to get their bony treats, and he would be upset enough over that event. Sure enough, the bulldogs arrived, Lily as a Giants fan and Betty as a bee, and Otis needed to be caged to protect them from certain ninja kicks to the head (he is a little jealous and a lot feisty). As I cooked cornbread stuffed pork chops and listened to my favorite harpsichordist, Igor Kipnis, play Bach and Beethoven, the sun slowly melted under the tree tops. My son came over for the night, as he was having a Halloween fright of a serious ant infestation at his apartment, and so the table was set for six. He didn't even mind as I gave my lengthy blessing for the coming year and toasted our deceased grandparents who were such an important part of our past. As this dinner is an important part of the celebration, the candy bowl was left on the front porch with a help yourself note while we ate. Afterwards, my husband and I retreated to the porch and handed out the candy to the Halloweeners who came, and exchanged pleasantries with some new parents in the neighborhood. As the Caspar the Ghost candle and my Jack-O-Lantern flickered in the dark night, and the revelers dwindled, we took turns reciting our sacred poetry to the wind in preparation for the long Winter season that was coming our way.
