I got caught. When mentioning the pleasure, their shock and awe seemed to indicate, yet again, that I am not among those that most people would consider “normal.” This is something I embrace. Who wants to be normal? Doesn’t everyone enjoy something other than vanilla ice cream? Normal is boring. Flying a freak flag keeps people in wonder. But how odd was I? In a world of vanilla ice cream, am I rocky road weird or bubble gum ice cream weird?
Party hopping on Halloween |
Once back in the car, I expressed my anticipation to carve our perfect pumpkins. “Maybe we could save the seeds and roast them like Mom used to do.” That fell on deaf ears as the conversation had left pumpkins and changed to cereal. Or pop music. Honestly, I have no idea what they were talking about. When did Special K and Corn Pops combine to make K-Pop? What is a tent to see on? Little techa? Is BTS some sort of medical ailment?
Brook poses for a face possibility |
Jason's master skills at work |
Halloween night |
The moment of awkwardness over, I watched like a child with a gleam in the eye as my brother and his wife carved faces into the pumpkins—throwing the seeds and sinewy orange innards straight into the trash. I guess there won’t be any seed roasting this time. Sorry, Mom.
The hunt for candles lasted far too long, but finally the Jacks were alight, the room darkened, and we stood in awe judging the efforts and smiling in the awesomeness of freshly disemboweled pumpkins: a sacrifice to the gods of my favorite holiday of the year. And for that whole minute, my nephews were interested in Halloween once more.
The lights came up abruptly, the candles extinguished and the kitchen returned to it’s prior glory—or as much glory as possible when hosting a family with 2 young kids, 3 cats, a dog and Uncle Penguin. With the family soon in other areas of the house, this was my chance. I was all alone. Without fear of judgment I pulled one of the Jack-o-lanterns forward, removed the lid, pressed my chin against the pumpkin skin, and inhaled.
Sweet Great Pumpkin, what a pleasure. Perhaps the most quintessential aroma of the holiday. Candy corn is too faint. Cinnamon-apple is overrated. Pumpkin spice may be more popular, but arguably, for someone who grew up in the 70s with an awesome mother embracing this holiday with the very childlike enthusiasm I inherited, there is something better. Carving the perfect gourd, gutting it with your bare hands, and smelling freshly slaughtered pumpkin is the pinnacle aroma of Halloween.
The sweet aroma |
Having been quite a few years since I last carved a pumpkin, this inhalation was severely delinquent. It was deep, long, and repeated several times. I was lost for a moment. Were it large enough, I could have jumped into that pumpkin for a sticky, stringy bath—for they failed to remove all of the gourd intestine. Where was that trash can full of seeds and guts?
Basically, the reactions I got |
My younger nephew with his costume for school |
Peanut butter Jelly party guests- easy peasy |
The Barbie Dolls in original packaging |
I’m not sure where Mom went wrong with my brother. He apparently hasn’t inherited the fondness for pumpkins she passed to me. That is not to say she didn’t instill in him some appreciation of Halloween’s best aspects. He and his wife are well known for coordinating fantastic costumes and their Halloween party that weekend was a monster hit. His children, on the other hand, might be adopted. They are nowhere near as excited about dressing up for Halloween. My older nephew didn’t even wear a costume to school the Friday before Halloween, unlike his brother. And on Halloween evening, neither of them wore a costume to go trick-or-treating, although between the two of them they must have about a dozen costume options. As for me, I brought three. I was like Stevie Nicks: ready for multiple wardrobe changes.
Spending time outside with costumed friends |
The kids get into the spirit |
The jack-o-lanterns
looked amazing as they sat sentry on the front steps all aglow. The
party food was great and the ‘boo’ze was flowing. Almost all of
the guests were dressed to the nines. My sister-in-law was Harley
Quin and my brother was the Joker. I was an Egyptian Pharaoh for the
party (and on Halloween I wore a costume reminiscent of ancient
China). A few couples brought their costumed kids and that is what
finally inspired my nephews to run upstairs and change. They soon
returned as Slender Man and my younger nephew being carried by an
inflatable alien.
Trick-or-treating in the neighborhood is a huge event. |
Ernie and Bert with rubber ducky |
It was the perfect Halloween holiday: costumes, excited kids, and a street lined with trick-or-treators of all ages. I loved party hopping to the tony homes of my family’s friends with clever spider cupcakes, ghost-shaped snacks and adult beverages with fun and scary names. Hmm. Should I have a ‘soul taker’ or a ‘grim reaper?’ Maybe a witch’s brew would go best with guest guts (pasta with red sauce).
But best of all was the sweet, nostalgic scent of freshly hollowed pumpkins—oh, that glorious fragrance.
Harley, Joker, Pharaoh and some kid (my older nephew) |
My brother and I hamming it up in Austin |
Mom made sure I had fun at Halloween from a very young age. I'm Batman! |
Purchase signed copies of my poetry books at www.PenguinScott.com
Includes free bookmark and button badge.