Hallow e'en

Some of our best Hallowe'en creations

Hallow e'en has always been a favourite time for me. As a child, I loved getting into costume, and trick or treating; most of all, though, I've always loved carving pumpkins.

I guess my mom, Olive, got us started, many long years ago, and was the driving force behind the toothy jack-o-lantern gracing our front porch every year. Lately, though, she prefers to watch, and clean the carving utensils at the end.

My sister, Jennifer, planner of some of the best Hallow e'en parties I've ever attended, also loves pumpkin carving. Each year, she and I plan a carving get-together, and include friends and family in the festive tradition of carving freaky or funny jack-o-lanterns.

Carving skills are learned young in our family; although, modifications are made with safety in mind: This year the youngest grand-daughter, Mattie-Belle, painted her little pumpkins instead of carving, and thoroughly enjoyed the experience. Oldest grand-daughter, Rachel is becoming quite the masterful carver and is very creative.

My oldest daughter, Melody, has always gravitated to small pumpkins and gourds and loves to create freakish scenes of murder and mayhem with them; youngest daughter Chelsea's carvings embody her flair for whimsy and optimism; and, though middle daughter, Laurel, has never liked the feel of pumpkin "goo," she's none-the-less open to hanging out with the rest of us who do.

Some years, our carving group is smaller than others: I once carved a single pumpkin, alone. This year, Jennifer advised and mom looked on as Chelsea, Rachel, Mattie-Belle and I transformed six blank canvases into Hallow e'en-worthy works of art. Chelsea and I gave a repeat performance two nights later when we carved the two remaining pumpkins whose carvers hadn't been able to attend.

Pumpkin carving may seem, to some, to be a juvenile activity; however, I always feel that something's missing if I try to go a year without carving into a large orange gooey vegetable; and, the delicious roasted and salted pumpkin seeds are a wonderful added bonus!

Best of all, the finished collection of jack-o-lanterns, glowing together in the dark at the end of each yearly carve-fest, is beautiful and absolutely mesmerizing.

Happy Hallow e'en!

Grampa Macdonald's Peony

My mother grew up in a large family, with two loving parents and seven rambunctious siblings. Although money was scarce and free time even more scarce, mom and I both remember her family home always had glorious flower gardens in both front and back yards.

Mom always recalled her father having a sprawling peony bush in the garden behind the house, which he tended with the same loving care he gave his many children; and, when my mother married and eventually bought a house with my dad, her father gifted her a root of his peony for her own garden.

Twenty something years later, we - my mom and dad, myself and my two siblings - moved to a new house, only five blocks away; and, in the confusion of packing and relocating, mom forgot to bring the peony or at least a part of it with her. Over the next 30 years, she occasionally lamented losing her dad’s peony, and I came to feel the loss of it through her.

This past summer, when mom once again mentioned the ancient plant, I set off on a mission, to see if any of the sought after peony was still in existence. Realistically, fifty-something years had elapsed since mom’s root left her father’s garden, and his original root, had it survived, would easily have been more than 80 years old by now: Chances of my being successful seemed rather bleak.

As I now own my mother’s second house, going back to the home where I grew up was an easy journey; and, I ended up meeting the husband half of the current homeowners ... conversing with him over the garden fence. While chatting, I was delighted to see that my mother’s peony bush was still thriving in it’s original location at the side of the house.

Homeowner Joe, upon hearing my tale about the plant, kindly offered to give me a piece of the root in the fall when the weather cooled down. I was overjoyed to have this exciting piece of news to relate to my mom, and thanked him for his generosity.

Near the end of September, I dropped a note in the mailbox at my childhood home, to let the homeowners know how they could contact me if they were still open to the gift of some peony root. That evening, I received a phone call from Karen, the wife half of the equation, who proved to be equally kind and giving. Following a second phone conversation we eventually arranged a time I could come and dig some history out of their garden.

When the day finally arrived, I took my youngest grand-daughter with me and the visit was quite pleasant. While I took shovel to peony and chatted with Karen and Joe, Mattie-Belle enjoyed running and playing with their dog, Oreo, in the same yard I had played so many years before. I had my husband shuttle my mom over, so she could revisit her old yard and meet her benefactors, and Karen served us tea on the back deck.

It was a wonderful way to get to know strangers with whom we now have a connection. Karen and Joe unselfishly gave of themselves by allowing my mom to revisit happy old time memories, and I owe them a debt of gratitude for their kindness.

I split the peony root into enough pieces to give two to my sister, Jennifer; keep four for my garden; and offer two pieces to my cousin, Kathy, for planting at the Macdonald family grave site. She and I spent a lovely couple of hours together while we planted the roots, one on either side of our grandparent’s headstone ... a fitting location, I thought, as Grampa Macdonald’s peony has traveled full circle and will soon be beautifying his final resting place.

I’ve hedged my bets, in a way, by splitting the aged peony root between several locations tended by family: It’s likely now that we’ll never again be parted from this special piece of family history, and we’ll be able to enjoy beautiful peony blooms for generations to come.

One way or the other, through the kindness and generosity of others and the tenacity of a long-lived peony plant, I've been reminded once again that new relationships take root in the most unexpected places, and happy old time memories grow everywhere.

Note: Two years later,
all the new peony plants
are thriving in their new homes!

21-12-2016
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