Ghosties & Ghoulies at the "Hallowe'en Club"

This posting is for my friend Vicki, who claims that - since I've been really busy with the book I'm working on for the last couple of weeks - she is in "blog/editorial" withdrawal. Not one to want to cause another discomfort, I offer up this little story:

I've always loved Hallowe'en... and not just because of the candy, although that certainly doesn't hurt. No, I love Hallowe'en because it appeals to my sense of theatre, because it is silly and irreverant, and because (and this is just between you and me) I believe in ghosties & ghoulies.

But my main reason for loving Hallowe'en now is a little "Hallowe'en Club" my family belongs to! Now, that isn't an official name, its just what I like to call it... but I guess I should explain.

Rick & I live in an area that is by no means remote, but it certainly doesn't lend itself to trick or treating either. Our driveway has a rather steep climb and is longer than some small town streets. To get from our house to our nearest neighbour on either side without walking over flower beds takes 2 or 3 minutes - even if you are travelling at "11 year old boy hopped up on sugar" speeds. This means that - since we moved here 6 years ago - we have had exactly "zero" trick or treaters visit our home (much to my chagrin... I love the little guys all dressed up as princesses and pirates). It also means that my own children have to get their trick or treating fix elsewhere.

Luckily, we befriended two wonderful couples in the area soon after our arrival - Angelika & Warren, who live just around the corner, and Christine & Ernie, who live in the "thriving metropolis" of Palgrave - a tiny village some 10 minutes north-east of here. We all have children of a similar age, and it wasn't long before we came up with the idea of using Christine & Ernie's house as "base camp" and all trekking out on our hallowed eve festivities as a group.

For years, its been simply that; we gather at Christine & Ernies, then set off in a loose group... the older kids racing ahead with some of the parents, the younger ones straggling a bit, with the rest of us keeping an eye on them. As we travel with them, we grown ups have a chance to talk a bit and get caught up... a rare treat, when all our lives are so busy.

But this year promises to be a bit different. You see, my daughter (whom Christine has nicknamed "Sweet Sarah") decided a few weeks ago that she was going to turn Christine & Ernies garage into a haunted house. Luckily, Sarah is a forward thinker and was wise enough to advise the lucky homeowners of her plan.... they are great people, but I suspect they may have been a bit disconcerted to suddenly be confronted with spooky music, a family of helium balloon ghosts and a cauldron of blood punch (apple cider & cranberry juice) clogging the area where the car should go.

So tomorrow, the 6 of us and our 5 offspring (plus a few extra little friends who've joined our little "Hallowe'en Club") will be peeling grapes and putting them in bowls for touching, hanging little ghosts in trees, recording spooky music and constructing tombstones out of cereal boxes. I'll haul out my face paints and create a whole bunch of scabs, fangs and blood dripping scars. And we'll turn a cute little bungalow in Palgrave into a spooky and "terrifying" haunted house for one night.

And come cover of darkness, as the kids are shrieking with excitement, the grown ups won't think about jobs, deadlines, paycheques or responsibilities. There'll be laughter, candy, jokes and hugs... (and to hell with h1n1 for one night).

And when its all over and the mess is cleaned up, we'll do what we always do. Although the kids will be anxious to get home to go over their little haul, the grown ups will be loath to head for home just yet...

We'll stand in a tight little group on Ernie's driveway and exclaim over how much fun we had. You'll be able to feel something in the air... a palpable wish that we had the time in our lives to do things like this more often.

Because for one evening, we'll have given ourselves permission to just relax and enjoy ourselves like the kids we used to be... and perhaps still are - somewhere deep inside.

So bring on the ghosties & ghoulies... I'm all rarin' to go! Like I said - I just LOVE Hallowe'en!

And a-one... And a-two

It is well and truly Autumn here in Caledon… the leaves are golden, ruby, tangerine; the turkeys, coons and deer show up often, to dine on luscious, over-ripe crab apples... the smell of wood smoke is often wafting by on a chilly breeze… and the Mitten Mambo is now danced energetically at houses across the region every single morning.
I will wager that every mother in Caledon who reads this will know what I am talking about. It is a dance as old as time…



For those of you who don’t have kids, know kids and were never kids yourself, the Mitten Mambo is that last minute, panic –stricken foray into the hall closet, feverishly looking for a pair of hand warming devices that match… or even sort of match… or at least weren’t both originally intended for the same hand.


Now it should be noted that - to be done correctly - the Mitten Mambo MUST be timed to take place when the school bus is within 2 minutes of your bus stop. Any earlier and it loses its excitement.


It should take place in a state of escalating panic or it just isn’t satisfying. And I personally feel that it is at its very best when at least two children are looking for gloves at the same time, as this can turn it into a contact sport, and (as a wee bonus) gives the nearest parent some referee experience leading up to the hockey season.


Now I’ve been told some “less-than-adventurous” types have been known to try and avoid this game altogether by buying case lots of mittens from local dollar stores. To this I must mutter a resounding “shame, shame!”! Why would you want to deprive your children of the opportunity to wear one grey and pink striped mitten and one blue fleece glove rather than go bare handed? Have you no sense of style?


Ah… the Mitten Mambo… fall and winter just wouldn’t be the same without it!

Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to go hide one of each of our gloves and mittens… morning comes early.

Giving Thanks

If the only prayer you said in your whole life was, "thank you," that would suffice. ~Meister Eckhart

“Thanksgiving” is an interesting word, and I started mulling it over a bit. For instance, when used as a noun - “Thanksgiving” is a word that conjures up images of turkey, mashed potatoes and pumpkin pie. But really, “thanks-giving” is a compound word—and a verb, which describes action - the act of showing gratitude.

This got me thinking about the thanksgiving holiday in more historical terms… and so I turned to the internet, and did a little digging! Here’s what I found out:

Here in Canada, Thanksgiving is celebrated in October. Unlike the American tradition of remembering the Pilgrims who settled in the New World, Canadians give thanks for a successful harvest.
Our harvest season falls earlier in Canada than it does across the border, due to the simple fact that Canada is further north, which explains the later American Thanksgiving.

The roots of Thanksgiving in Canada harken back to English explorer Martin Frobisher, who failed to find a northern passage to the Orient but did end up establishing a settlement in Northern America.

In 1578, in what is now called Newfoundland, Frobisher held what is widely considered the first Canadian Thanksgiving - giving thanks for surviving the long journey. Other settlers arrived and continued these celebration ceremonies.

At the same time, French settlers, having crossed the ocean and arrived in Canada with explorer Samuel de Champlain, also held huge feasts of thanks. They even formed 'The Order of Good Cheer' and gladly shared their food with their Indian neighbours.
During the American Revolution, Americans who remained loyal to England moved to Canada, bringing with them the customs and practices of the American Thanksgiving to Canada, notably cornucopia's and pumpkin pies.

Over the years many dates were used for Thanksgiving, but finally, on January 31st, 1957, Parliament proclaimed...

"A Day of General Thanksgiving to Almighty God for the bountiful harvest with which Canada has been blessed ... to be observed on the 2nd Monday in October.”

And so, this Thanksgiving Monday, I hope you enjoy a wonderful feast, and that you remember to take a moment to rejoice in our bountiful Canadian harvest, and give thanks for all the riches that mother nature has seen fit to bestow on us.

Happy thanksgiving!