We pulled our zinnias out this week — or most of them anyway. The plants that bloomed for months at our homestead entrance were finally slowing down, and more cold weather prophesied a quick end to their succession of flowers. It was time. In their place, we set bales of straw and home-grown pumpkins, creating a more seasonally relevant welcome to our property. After all, October is finally ripening to its golden blush, just in time for Hallowtide — but I’m getting ahead of myself. After a few slogging weeks, we made a lot of progress during the last seven days, for which we all feel incredibly thankful.
Along with removing the dying flowers, Grace and Bonnie-Jean did some major sprucing-up in the area around our bunkhouse. They moved the last stacks of building materials to a more out-of-the-way area. Grace did a lot of weed trimming and brush cutting. Our brother Levi helped in the evenings, mowing and weed trimming as well. Everything looks so much more tidy, even if it is still a work in progress.
One afternoon, we made a run to Greenfield to the feed store for dog vaccines and straw. We had to make a quick stop at the library again, as our nieces needed some books — and we aunties decided we needed a couple more as well.
I spent several afternoons applying spar urethane to what will be our kitchen shelving. The new paint sprayer worked much better than our old one, providing consistent results. I sprayed one shelf that was already assembled — and I didn’t love the process. I decided to pre-spray the next shelf prior to assembly and see how that goes. I also sprayed, assembled, and finish sprayed our oversized spice rack. This project has been pushed off for so many random reasons for so many months, it feels amazing to see the shelving start to come together.
Bonnie-Jean spent an afternoon getting our drip system packed up for winter. It’s always a process to get it set out every year — and it’s a big project to put it all away again. I was thankful Bonnie took that initiative to tackle it before we get a hard freeze.
After all of our hard work, we felt ready to celebrate Hallowtide. My brother Levi’s kids, of course, have been fairly bursting with exuberance about costumes and the local Trunk-or-Treat for weeks. For my part, I looked forward to helping with their costumes and handing out candy to any rural trick-or-treaters who happened by. It’s only my second year of coming back to Halloween as a Catholic, and it has felt like rediscovering an old friend.
As Protestants in the 90s, our family had stopped celebrating Halloween due to its supposedly pagan roots. Like most Protestants, we still attended harvest parties. Imagine our surprise in discovering that, in fact, harvest festivals are far more pagan than Halloween — the eve of All Saints (or All Hallows). There is a rich Christian heritage of commemorating those saints who have lived before us, going back to when the early Church would celebrate Mass in the catacombs. As Christians, we are not to fear death — we know that our God is the God of the living. The saints we remember live on as members of Christ’s mystical body — and we believe they will one day live embodied lives on earth once again. These truths take the sting out of death, even as it calls us to commemorate those members of the Church triumphant with Christ. Like all other heroes in history, they have lived as examples in which we can find hope, comfort, and inspiration. Their lives mimic the command of St. Paul, who said, “Be imitators of me, as I am of Christ” (1 Corinthians 11:1, RSVCE). And so, this Hallowtide, we remember the saints and imitate them as we can.
Yesterday, we enjoyed a festive if somewhat hectic Halloween. The kids and many adults carved pumpkins, and we enjoyed a spooky dinner.
After dinner, we helped the kids costume up for their local trunk-or-treat event. Our dad had dressed up earlier in the week for his job, and he shared his wig with our nephew — it worked perfectly for both an 80s mullet and a Scottish chieftains hairdo. After the kids left, Bonnie-Jean and Grace dressed up as well in case we got a few trick-or-treaters. We had some last year, and we were unprepared. This year, we planned ahead.
This morning, we made soul cakes — an old English Hallowtide treat that goes back centuries. We made these last year, and they have become a tradition already. Engaging in old practices is another way to remember, as we relive actions long lived by others. It was a lovely way to make present our forgotten cultural memories, and the perfect way to start All Saints Day. They pair wonderfully with a mug of tea or coffee.
