Halloween is one of my favorite holidays. The costumes and creepy vibes, the movies, the candy, I love all of it, but mostly I love the Halloween traditions. Trick or treating in the neighborhood – listen, I have a soft spot for the pillow case kids. You can keep your fancy
plastic buckets or your bag that integrates perfectly with your costume. At my house, if you show up with a pillow case and a bad hobo beard drawn on your face, you are getting the good stuff. I’m talking full size candy bars and a lot of them. Despite my love of Halloween, I have never carved a pumpkin. I’ve bought plenty of pumpkins that were carve-worthy. I even have a carving kit. I’ve just never actually done it. Am I lazy? Is it the mess? Do I feel bad about intentionally destroying a perfectly good pumpkin? I don’t know. This is the year it all changes. I’m getting some pumpkins, and I’m carving those suckers.
I wrote this article in two parts: the part where I had all the optimism and time I needed, and the second part where reality set in. I had a lot of cute plans. But as the poet Robert Burnes said, “the best laid schemes of mice and men”; I know the common saying is plans, but I prefer the original. Plans are too close to errands. Schemes have an air of whimsy and experiment about them. They are inherently more fun and adventurous than plans.
As the pumpkins and the carving kits filled the stores, my life grew more hectic. I had to make an unexpected and much too short trip to Pennsylvania – we went by car this time. Ten states in six days. The occasion was a sad one, but the trip was lovely. We visited a Buc-ees for the first time. Sorry Texas folks, the Wawa is far superior. I had the best hoagie in the world, a lot of great pizza, and even better family time. I was tired, but the brisk fall weather up north had revived me, left me looking forward to the approaching weather change and destroying perfectly good pumpkins in the spirit of fun. Then the bottom fell out. I came home to two broken cars – which is 100 percent of our cars – a lot of school work, and the loss of an absolutely legendary woman. My lifetime, as the talking heads would say, was piling up.
This is supposed to be a lighthearted fun article, and it has just developed into me quoting an 18th century Scottish poet and David Byrne.
Anyway, something had to give. I’m sorry to say it was the pumpkins. Not having the time or energy to actually carve the pumpkins led me down the rabbit hole of why we carve them in the first place. For the answer, we’re going to go back to the UK. See? There’s a common thread after all.
But first, why do we even carve pumpkins?
Well, it’s all because of this guy called Stingy Jack, or so the legend goes. Stingy Jack made deal with the devil – people should stop making deals with the devil. It only worked out that one time with the fiddle contest in the woods. Other than that, it’s a total bust – for his own monetary gain. When he died, he wasn’t admitted into heaven; the devil, still holding a grudge, also denied him access. Stingy Jack’s soul was destined to roam the Irish countryside for all eternity. The locals wanted none of that, so they began carving faces into turnips to keep Jack from creeping around their property. Jack, having met the actual devil, didn’t scare so easy, so the faces had to be demonic. The tradition came to America during the great Irish migration, but was reinvented slightly due to our abundance of pumpkins. Thus, the Jack-o-lantern as we know it was born.
I didn’t get around to doing what I set out to do, and that’s fine. Sometimes life just gets in the way. As David Byrne also said, “Eat a grapefruit however you want. You don’t need the special spoon.” To me this means we can all do what we need to do to get through it. Adjust. Improvise. Pivot. However you want to say it. Carve a pumpkin for Halloween, for Christmas, or not at all. It’s all okay and we’re all okay too.
Contributor: Ryanne Harper