I know its still three weeks until the “official” start of Fall, but its September 2 and for me Fall begins now. In the absence of the colours, weather and general coziness of the Season (since its still way too hot for those lovely steamy drinks, pumpkin spiced or otherwise) there are the more prosaic heralds of the changing of the “gourd”. The usual cryers of the earlybirds of retail have come, and gone. First was the much anticipated 10th Anniversary of the Yankee Candle Boney Bunch collectible figures, next for me was the now annual trip to Rogers Gardens and their detailed themed displays which are always a surefire blast of welcome and kick-off to the coming weeks of planning and preparation, its nice to see others have been doing so for months and months. I will post more info about them, be sure to drop by and take a look for yourself. Other major retailers are keeping up but some have decidedly fallen back in their support, Pottery Barn and its partner store William Sonoma have been offering what is really the same themed merchandise for a few years now and its disappointing to see, they were the last of the big name stores to still offer thoughtful and beautifully packaged wares. The Crate and Barrel offerings are always simple, but beautiful, and this year is no different. Michaels, T.J.Maxx, Marshalls and Target and Home Goods are all following suit and filling their shelves, albeit slowly, with a huge variety of the usual and the new. So it’s starting to look alot like…Halloween. Can’t say I am disappointed in that. Nice to know I don’t have to explain why I am dragging out my boxes and boxes of skeletons, witches, ghosts and carved jacks so “early” – seems I am right on time.
This one I will preface by saying you may have noticed in my header the lines from a poem that I change occasionally. I post it here in its complete form, I hope you enjoy it. The work was inspired by this stamp image that I once purchased after customizing with a line from my poem. I am getting these again this year for my Halloween invites, you can purchase by the sheet, these are a great product offered by Zazzle.com go online and pick and choose and edit to your hearts desire. Can’t wait to use these again. Enjoy!
“Stroll with me beneath the Moon,
for surely They’ll be coming soon
to share with us the deepening gloom,
that must be Halloween.
Fellow Revelers walk this Night,
as They awake from yearly plight
deprived til now of sweet delight,
that must be Halloween.
Mischievousness the only goal,
for these few hours on parole.
And none but They could be so droll
that must be Halloween.
Sorry am I that They must wait,
upon the Eve to cross the gait.
Alas that is Their yearly Fate,
that must be Halloween.
All too soon the Night will fade,
and All shall pass into the Shade
to wait upon the next parade,
that must be Halloween.
Perhaps you’ll stroll with me once more,
when Gate stands wide and Spirits tour.
No other sight stir’s my hearts core,
that must be Halloween.”
From earth fog will rise
Seen through autumn eyes
Cunning and patient
While folly foils fear
As hot breath draws near
Wind winds the cornstalks
A deep throaty hiss
Blackbirds go silent
A sign alls amiss
Ripe rabble en route
Yet focused on farce
Caught within whirlwind
Too beguiled to parse
Soon passing threshold
Point of no return
Eyes glowing hotter
Revealing the yearn
And shifts unexplained
From malice unchained
Traversing corn maze
Dupes still unaware
As soon all succumb
To Halloweens scare
– by A.E. October, 2016
Pumpkins on porches devoid of the scorches awaiting their annual plight.
Soon knife will descend for a gut wrenching end but reborn with flame burning bright
Orbs patiently wait this glorified fate as sentries of Falls candy rite.
The obvious choice, gives the Eve a mute voice calling out “stop here for a bite!”
Flashing their glances whilst youngsters take chances braving their mischievous sight.
In groups or by one, they’ll come and they’ll come, to challenge this well-meaning fright.
As porches grow dark they remain the last spark, a reminder of mischiefs big night.
Soon burned flesh will rot and all’ll be forgot diminished by Novembers’ light.
–AE, October 2016
Going to age myself a bit here, but couldn’t help it. While sorting through my TNY collection this Charles E. Martin cover made me smile wistfully as I remembered something from my childhood; something I couldn’t wait for when school days began in September as Halloween usually prompted the first one of the year. The classroom party. The chalkboard covered with the list of necessaries for a decent shindig and Mrs. Gresham or Mr. Argast signing up kids next to each one, invariably the “paper plates and napkins” and “cups” would go to that same kid in the front row whose arm would shoot up the moment the teacher asked. I don’t know, maybe he was baking challenged. The rest of us divvied up the cookies, brownies, other varied treats of no name, bottles of pop, etc for the Friday party. I remember classroom games, like heads up seven up and chalkboard hangman. I remember a parade of students walking around the quad proudly displaying homemade costuming. Teachers dressed as their alter egos (or true natures) best suggested. Trick or treating room to room with each classroom decked out along its own theme. The truncated lessons to make time to just enjoy the holiday undiminished by political correctness. Madcap and mayhem would eventually ensue in the sugar tide, everyone going home clutching a paper plate with various goodies to enjoy over the weekend shared with family, if they survived the bus ride or walk home that is.
A lovely New Yorker cover from my collection. Edna Eicke has captured a wonderful moment. Everything the night should be, the “ghosts” peering through the gate to judge if the walk is worth the risk. I think the lighted windows highlighting the porch seal the deal. I love the importance of the porch, the threshold, the approach to the door. So much anticipation, exhilaration, consternation. You get it. Sometimes with haunters its meant to be a very long walk, even when its a hop, skip and jump to the door from the sidewalk. Like running the bases through a gauntlet, real or imagined. With only the thought of reaching the porch, the door, safety always to be found at home, even if for just a moment, someone else’s. A lovely tradition I think. Thanksgiving has the turkey shared with family and friends, Christmas gets the tree with thoughtful gifts to be given out amongst nearest and dearest. On Halloween we invite neighbors and strangers alike to our doors. We wait upon the knock, the doorbell, we pause and savor the shrieks and hesitant approach of children and adults through the keyhole or from between the blinds. The magical ‘say “trick or treat!” and enter’ that signals a kindred spirit whereupon we open our doors and distribute rewards for stopping by. Simply marvelous.
Was visiting my local Pottery Barn today, hoping to catch a glimpse of what I’ve seen on their website and was surprised to find a few samples of this years’ offering on a table in the back. I grabbed a set of their Jack O’ Lantern Salt & Pepper set. Was checking out at cash wrap and the nice lady “J” was pleased to show me a couple of treats “from the back”. These included items not to be found on their website at this time! Yay! I purchased the above, a Black Cat Wine Topper, a Witch Hat Wine Stopper, a Crystal Skull Wine Stopper. It was awful nice of her to give me the sneak peak and I really appreciated her thoughtfulness. Can’t wait for more…
My sister found this in the back of the hall closet, and if ever I needed reminding of why Halloween is my favorite holiday, it could not have been made more clear to me then my reaction to seeing this simple bottle of hand soap. My Christmas tree was up, Thanksgiving was past and successful, decorations of red and green everywhere I look. Nothing so far has spun such a reaction to the smile that spread wide across my face when I looked upon this orange and black treat. I couldn’t keep from staring at it, sitting atop my bathroom counter, happy in the knowledge that it would be there until the end of the year. A little reminder of that which makes me truly happy. There is still Christmas shopping to do, presents to wrap, cookies to bake and cards to fill and send to family and friends. This little spot of orange and black will keep my Halloween spark alive through it all.
I am late to the party, but I made it at last. My thanks to Countdown to Halloween for including me again this year, 2014! I thought it would be nice to highlight the pumpkin patch in Halloween lore. And I will be making a study of them in the countdown to the night. To all who will be visiting the blog this year, welcome and hope you enjoy the ride. Here is my first offering, a tribute if ever there was one to the most sincere pumpkin patch to be found, such is the stuff of dreams.
Artist credit Nicolas Delort
100th Post! For you all out there thank you! Hope you will all hang in there with me through the months ahead.
Serious withdrawals this week. Its now 320 days until Halloween 2014.
While I don’t plan on posting a running countdown, I can’t help but look around at all the red and green and cast my mind back to just a short while ago when orange and purple and acid green were the colors of the day. To be honest, I still have my orange and black lights up (inside my dining room), along with a few other Halloween decorations I couldn’t bring myself to take down, yet. I’ve a couple of weeks, right? Anyway – as I un-bubblewrap ornaments from years past I pause and reflect just why I try to drag it all out as far as I can, simply the place never feels so cozy than in the Fall and I try to keep that going well into Winter. When it is mostly packed up and the upcoming holidays firmly take over, I still long for and compare subsequent manifestations of my homes decor to those three months in Autumn, the highlight of the year. Time to start planning. Really never too early, I think. Themes and plans and lofty goals. Looking forward.
Here is another lovely New Yorker cover, the intense orange is simply wonderful.
New Yorker Magazine, Kovarsky, 1961