Perhaps it is the fact that this wave of 80 plus degree weather and rain has turned my jack o’lantern into so much goo. Perhaps it is the lack of sunlight. Perhaps it is the tedium that is my life - day after day of crushing
boredom - but I’ve decided that I need to make myself less accessible. Which is a nice way of saying that I have no patience for anyone. You’re lucky I’m even writing this, because I really don’t have to.
I suppose it is mostly that my pumpkin is gone. It’s a stage of grief I’m in. ANGER. I invested time and energy into selecting that pumpkin from a whole field. I carried it like a baby back to the car. I admired its shape and color and texture. When the time came, I scooped out its guts, roasted its seeds and oh so tenderly carved its chipper little dead guy face.
Where did I go wrong? The flies came immediately. Little gnats swarming in a cloud, doing God knows what to it. With a makeshift hairspray flame thrower I could kill and kill and kill, but they always came back. But I don’t think it was the flies, really.
But this sudden jungle atmosphere we have – humid, hot and sticky – in OCTOBER. Tomorrow, it’s supposed to drop down to a somewhat more seasonal temperature. But the damage has been done. My pumpkin lies rotting in the garbage can. By the end, his crooked mouth had drooped upon itself and his once firm flesh gave way at the merest touch. Rachel’s pumpkin, a nearly perfect specimen, has maintained structural integrity but is blighted with white mold growing in fuzzy spots all over it.
I am in a frightful mood. As it is unlikely to abate by Sunday, I have decided that Halloween is cancelled at my house. We’re going to watch a scary movie and turn off the outside lights. Halloween used to be my favorite fun holiday, but now I have become one of those people. I’m not even going to put on a costume. I’m not even going to break out my fake blood. What’s the point? I’ll just go to bed early so I can get up for All Saints Day and have done with it.
Oh yeah, it’s a Holy Day of Obligation right after Halloween. Sort of the whole point of All Hallows Eve. Sorry, party-time Catholics. Hie thee to Church, hangover or no.
I could go on and on with my complaints, but you don’t want to read them. If you did, I’d seriously question your worth as a human being. Because I’m already sort of doing that, let’s not push it.