Devil's Night Redux...

Want a little devilish fun but you can't make it out tonite to go toilet papering and soaping windows?

Do a little "Cat Bowling" from home...no animals will be harmed, really.  Have fun!

3:37:44 PM    comment []

Devil’s Night

Here it is again, it seems like it was just yesterday.  Tonight’s the night when pranksters roam and make mischief.  Make sure your porch and security lights are on, that pumpkins and garbage cans are secured.  Don’t leave your car someplace where it could attract bar soap or worse.

But it’s not all bad; there are many sensual pleasures to be had, in spite of the concerns of the evening.  The damp musty smell of fallen leaves, cold and wet on the lawn, the acrid tang of wood smoke in the air; the perfume of assorted candies rises like an incense from a bowl into which the treats are tossed in preparation for tomorrow’s festivities – old smells, comforting, licorice and chocolate, some fruity notes, vanilla.  Apple cider, warmed and sweet, tangy and mellowed with cinnamon, poured into our mugs and savored.  A splash of rum or Calvados added for those of us who need bracing for the work ahead.

Tonight’s the night when large, round and fleshy pumpkins will be sacrificed on the altar of fun, becoming anthropomorphic expressions of hilarity and fear.  Once pierced and scalped, pumpkin guts will be smeared on hands and faces, spilled orange innards splayed across the kitchen counter.  Little hands will plunge eagerly into the bowels to pull out the offal.  Seeds squished out from the slimy meat, rinsed and dried, arranged on a baking sheet with kosher salt to bake until dessicated, salty-nutty-crisp.  Knives wielded, spearing orange skin and meaty flesh, cutting away until a face is revealed.

Will a toothy grin peer back, or will a grim leer wink at us once our sacrifice is completed?  Hard to say, since this ritual moves with the Muses’ unpremeditated dictates.

And my little Muses will be torn between a happy smile (the 8-year-old’s choice) or a wicked, rapacious snear (the 5-year-old’s selection); between bites of candy snatched from tomorrow’s alms of sweets, they’ll giggle gleefully as the knife yields to their requests.

Our ritual ends with the insertion of large candles and their subsequent lighting – we’ll step back, turn off the lights, and look carefully to see if now someone we’ve seen before looks upon us once again.

Ah, yes, we know you, here once again: the spirits of harvest smile and cry briefly, their joy and terror expressed in sharply-trimmed orange pumpkin flesh.

10:58:02 AM    comment []