Okay, yes, I’m a little slow, but hey, I have at least one silly story and some fun pictures to share. Like this one
It was a fabulous night. I and my covenmate got together early in the day, where early still means afternoon. After all, I’m just not that much of a morning person. Our first stop of the night was to pick up meal, snack and mead provisions.
I will say now, the mead didn’t make it. It was my first attempt. Our eyes glistened with sadness. It was horrible.
Okay, phew, got that hard part over with.
While most of what we did I won’t be sharing (sshhhh, it’s a coven secret LOL really most of it was only interesting to us), the start of the night was sharably entertaining.
As twilight fell we attempted to leave my apartment to go visit Grandma Willow and do our first ritual of the night. Yes, attempted to leave. We were a tad inebriated. It was fabulous, don’t get me wrong, but it led to a few false starts. But I’m slightly ahead of myself.
We bundled up, all nice and cozy and warm for an evening of walking. I’ve got my long, black wool diva coat on (others have described it that way, it’s not my own label! lol), my Wicked (TM) witch hat (I adored that musical) on and some funky make-up. My covenmate was in her robes. We’re headed out the door and as we walk through it I commented “You know, for most people it’s come as you aren’t night.”
It took her a second and then we were both laughing. She made a fabulously witty comeback which I’m so ashamed to say escapes me now and we headed to the elevator.
But shit! We’d forgotten the offering of mead. Back in we went, filled a small tupperware container with some mead which went into my coat pocket since neither of us were carrying a bag and then we were back at the door. I looked at her, at the door, and what did I say? “You know, for most people it’s come as you aren’t night.” We both snicker as she says her fabulously witty comeback and head back to the elevator.
Ah, crap. No gloves. The giggling has already started as we head back through my front door. I’m falling over as we get back to the door, gloves in hand and I have to say “You know, for most people <snicker> it’s come <snort> as you aren’t night.” My covenmate can barely talk as she gets our her rebuttal and we flee to the elevator.
We’re at the elevator and I have that horrible moment, “You know, I forgot–”
“Don’t even say it.”
We didn’t go back again. I don’t think we could have lived through it. We wouldn’t have been able to breathe.
Out the door and off to Grandma Willow (yes, the same one in my Grandma Willow post). Unfortunately, the lid came off the tupperware and by the time we arrived we only had half of the offering left to give. And I spent the rest of the night reeking like an English pub. Made me thirsty. From there we went on a meandering walk back to my place, through the side streets filled with trick-or-treating kids and decorated houses.
And a lot of people with little dogs.
Every time I saw one of those, I cried out “Damn you, Toto! It was your fault! I know it was.” That made for a lot of laughter on my side and on theirs. The dogs didn’t seem to care.
On one house there was a large video screen stretched out from the balcony railing to roof playing The Blob, entertaining the adults while the kids went up to the house.
We passed a particularly friendly fellow and I insisted that my covenmate get her picture taken with him.
There was this one apartment building near my place where a group of residents had gotten together and done a wonderful set up in their front lawn. Though the best part was the very movie style zombie wandering up to two blocks away who would come towards you with brain stealing intensions clearly written on his empty face.
And my final picture for you is of the “Smash Me” pumpkin. I can’t help but wonder, did it survive the night? What do you think? What are the odds?
We spent some time in a coffee shop chatting about all kinds of wonderful things and then it was back home to cook dinner for us and the anscestors and watch some Halloween classics: the original Halloween and Wizard of Oz. In and amongst that was more ritual. What more can be said than:
Happy New Year to all! And to all a Good Night.
~The Abysmal Witch
3 thoughts on “Samhain Memories”
I think the “smash me” pumpkin made it, here’s why. Vandals are by nature a contradictory lot. One is not meant to go about kicking down the works of others, so says the rules of polite society. “But to hell with the rule”, says the vandal and does so anyways. Now a pumpkin that asks to be smashed, thats an order, which is like a rule. “Oh no, you can’t make me dance to your tune so easily” goes the vandal as the other three jack-o-lanterns, without the defense of implied lawfulness, meet their pulpy fate.
Hmm, a logical thought. But allow me to offer an alternative suggestion. What of the obedient people in the world? The ones who wouldn’t normally smash a pumpkin because that’s not acceptable (unless it’s your own)? I could see them taking the “smash me” as permission, a license as it were to take that pumpkin and turn it into little orange chunks.
Curses, logic has failed me yet again. Let us ignore that and instead have a moment of silence for the uncounted (approx. 4) glowing gourds lost in doing their duty, warding off lost souls.