Barn Baby, Barn: OT Day 18

Strictly speaking, the thought for today isn't unique to October, but it is the season when I think about them the most, so it totally counts. That said, I love barns. I love barns as much as I love pumpkins, but pumpkins are easier to purchase and take up a lot less room, so I have to content myself with snapshots, clippings, and Google searches to feed my habit. I especially love barns that are rotting and weathered and about to fall down. But new shiny barns that are all red and have white trim catch my fancy too. Yup, I am an equal opportunity barn lover.

Not growing up in the country, has lead me to have a very romanticized notion of barns that I am sure people who actually live with them and use them don't have. To me, barns are full of mystery and beauty. History and stories. I almost can't go by a barn without it sparking my imagination. Which now that I live in the sticks makes for dangerous driving. I can't be day dreaming every time I leave my driveway.

Barns have a sense of history that houses don't. People modify houses all the time. Unless it is a historical dwelling, houses change with the times. But barns, barns stay the same. Their purpose is to be functional. No one decides to remodel their barn unless they use it as an office or guesthouse. Barns get left alone for the most part. They watch life go by and in some cases have ushered it in.

A good barn doesn't look new when its final days come. A good barn looks like it has lived every inch of its life the day it finally collapses. And that is how barns should go. They shouldn't be demolished with a bulldozer or wrecking ball. They should stand for years and slowly list to one side. Finally they should succumb to the alluring pull of gravity. A good barn should lie in a pile of cracked timbers for a few years with vines and creepers growing over it before it is finally removed. After all, it has served its purpose, it deserves a rest. That kinda sounds like a good life philosophy come to think of it.

My favorite thing when going down a highway is to look for collapsed barns. You see them in the strangest places. My favorite is one that stands just off the highway on the outskirts of a busy city. There is a vacant weedy lot being sold and there is an old crumbling barn sitting on it. It lists to the left in the front and the timbers have seen better days. The door has long since fallen off and not a stitch of paint can be seen. I love that barn.

These days, we try our hardest not to show our age. To hide our peeling paint and cracked timbers. But old barns. They don't have anything to prove to anyone. They are out there for all to see, withstanding the ravages of time and showing every scar and nick. We could learn a lot from barns. Some people, ok, if we are being honest, most people call such things an eyesore. The land a decrepit barn is sitting on could become the newest Starbucks or a strip mall.

Barns remind me of who I am. They remind me of the passage of time and of history gone by. What has happened in those barns? Maybe they were used to store machinery. Maybe someone had their first kiss snuggled back in a hayloft. Perhaps it was a working barn with animals and tractors and gear hung from the rafters.

For some reason barns just make me nostalgic. They get my imagination going immediately. I think of barn owls soaring around the rafters. I hear the rustle of hay as a horse turns around in its stall. I watch the sunset from the open door of a hay loft, or feel the burn of the rope as I swing off a rafter into packed straw. I can smell the grease from an old tractor and hear the clink of tools swinging from their hooks in the breeze. Then there are October barns. They are good for dances, outdoor movies and haunted houses.

My favorite barn related discovery so far has been a small business that opened up about seven months ago. It is called, are you ready, Built of Barnwood. So of course I love it, I mean it has barn in the title. It is run exclusively by a family of four and they even let their kids design some of their goods. They take wood from old barns and pallets and make new things from them. That just made my heart smile. I have bought a few things from them and I love the idea that my little bit of wood used to be a working barn and now it has a new lease on life cheering me up. What a great idea. I should have thought of it first.

See, there are many, many reasons to love barns. Go find one and send me some pictures.

 

Going Gourdy: OT Day 17

I love pumpkins and I don't care who knows it. Every October I go a bit....ok, a lot pumpkin crazy. As soon as the first of October rolls around I give myself permission to unleash my inner pumpkin purchasing power. It really doesn't matter what form the pumpkin takes, I just have to have it.
So far this year I have purchased pumpkin bath scrub, pumpkin puree, pumpkin scented candles, pumpkin decorations, pumpkin room spray, pumpkin flashlights, a pumpkin shirt, pumpkin carving tools, and pumpkins of every shape and size imaginable (the count is up to at least 11). I have been given pumpkin socks, pumpkin cookies, pumpkin nog, a pumpkin blizzard and a pumpkin greeting card. I have a cat named Pumpkin, I just made a pumpkin pie, and have been to the pumpkin patch twice and plan to go again. In addition to all that, I hear that there is such a thing as pumpkin Pot Tarts, but I can't find them. And I just got a coupon in the mail for pumpkin cream cheese, but the store doesn't have any. Sigh, I feel deprived somehow.

After all that pumpkin craziness, I still want more. Pumpkins make up at least half of my Halloween and Thanksgiving decor. So it is really no surprise that one of my favorite Halloween decorations is a great big light up plastic pumpkin that stands about three feet tall. We call him the Great Pumpkin after the Charlie Brown Halloween special. He has been in our family almost as long as I have. His paint is faded and he has a few dents from wind storms, but he keeps on bringing me October joy and that is all that matters.

I don't know why I like pumpkins so much, I just do. They come in all sorts of wonderful colors, shapes and sizes. You have to go to a patch or at least a theme decorated part of a store to get them. You can decorate them a myriad of ways. You can paint them, stick things to them, glitter them, bejewel them or plain old carve them.

I think it is the carving that I like the most. It isn't so much the theme of the carving (cuz really I have the artistic abilities of a three year old) as getting to cut into the pumpkin and play with the guts. As a kid that was my very favorite thing to do and still is. I would wait until the designated parent cut the top off and then I got to scoop away. I just love the squish and goo of pumpkin innards. Then I love roasting the seeds. The pumpkin is just the best multi functional food. It is like the Swiss army knife of decorations. You can eat it, carve it, use it for a bowl, decorations, bowling, or pumpkin' chunkin'. You can't do that with a tomato or a carrot. You can probably do it with a watermelon, but who cares, we aren't talking about summer foods.

It is funny to think about. If you were a visitor from outer space or someone who had lived in the wilds since birth and only just stumbled out of the jungle, what would you make of people setting this big orange thing outside their doors with funny carvings on them? Would you think it was an important custom? Would a person who had more than one pumpkin be considered rich to you?

In the days of yore it wasn't even pumpkins that were carved. It was turnips. I know, finally a use for them. Turnips were carved with scary faces to ward off evil. Those people must have been major artisans. Well, they did know how to whittle back then. But turnips are small and I imagine that carving them is difficult.

In the mid 19th century in the U.S. turnip carving gave way to pumpkin carving. Turnips were scarce and costly, so the next best thing was the pumpkin. It was big and plentiful. Plus if a turnip can scare away things that go bump in the night, then a pumpkin that is six or seven times larger can scare away more. From bonfires, to turnips with embers in them, to pumpkins. My how our festivities have evolved.

　
A few fun facts about pumpkins; in keeping with the idea that pumpkin carvings scare demons, pumpkins should be planted on Good Friday. According to the U.S. Census Bureau Illinois produces more pumpkins than any other American state. California, Michigan, Ohio, Pennsylvania and New York also contribute healthy crops. This year, Ron Wallace from Greene, Rhode Island grew the first over one ton pumpkin. It weighed in at 2,009 lbs. That is one big gourd. You could actually climb into it. The record for the most lit pumpkins at one time and in one place, normally goes to the folks in Keene, New Hampshire (Google it, that place is amazing and I want to go there). In 2006, their record stood at 28,952 lit pumpkins. On October 26, 2007, Boston Ma. shattered this record with 30,128 lit pumpkins! Imagine having to count them all.

In 2000, Steve Clarke of Havertown, Pa became the fastest pumpkin carver. Steve carved a pumpkin in a record one minute and 14.8 seconds. I can't even imagine how fast the pumpkin guts were flying. And last but not least, the record for the longest distance in Pumpkin Chunkin (the use of an air cannon to propel a pumpkin across a distance) stands at 4,483.51 feet. That's over 3/4 of a mile!. A team named "Young Glory II" set this record in 2008 at the annual Pumpkin Chunkin contest in Nassau, DE.

So it seems that I am not the only one who loves pumpkins. There are all sorts of fun things to do with them. I think I will go buy some more in celebration. But first let me go eat some of that fresh from the oven pumpkin pie. Did I mention that I love pumpkins ;)

Rockin' My Socks: OT Day 16

Yesterday was the first day that I had worn socks in quite a while. It wasn't that I felt cold enough to need them, so much as where I had planned to go required socks. As it turned out, my plans changed and my sock wearing was for naught. But it, along with a timely posting did get me thinking.

Normally in October we begin to get cooler weather. The blistering heat of the summer gives way to a comfy warmth that slowly morphs into frosty mornings. Those chilly a.m. hours equal scrapping windshields, warming your hands on hot beverages and sock wearing. Since it is October, this means holiday socks, and I love holiday socks.

In general I feel that socks are boring and restrictive. Your choices are either white or black if you want to stay fashion forward, or just dress sensibly. Before I knew the joy of holiday socks, I tried to break with this black or white trend by introducing argyle into my wardrobe. But really, you can only take argyle so far. As soon as I was old enough to veto the frilly sock purchases and the monochromatic wonders, I started requesting crazy socks. It was my way of expressing my individuality. At my school we didn't have uniforms, it was worse. Girls had to wear dresses. If I couldn't wear my beloved pants, than at least I could wear crazy socks in protest.

October was what started it all. It is the first month after the long drought of summer when holiday socks start to emerge. Ok it isn't, there are fourth of July socks, but they are pretty boring and the selection isn't so great. It is always a variation of red, white and blue and fireworks. Which is nice, but limiting. Now October, October has tons of choices.

You can get crazy slipper socks, crazy knee highs, crazy footletts, or just plain crazy socks. They come in all kinds of colors and themes. There are scary socks that look like monsters are eating your feet. Sweet socks with black cats or candy. Vampire socks, monster socks, ghost socks, candy corn socks, bat socks, stripped socks, spider socks, bloody socks, socks with menacing eyes, socks with haunted houses, socks with words, etc… It’s great. And when I found the internet, I found all sorts of places to find good holiday socks.

I don't remember when I decided this, but one October I made the goal of one day purchasing enough October socks to have a different pair for each day of this wonderful month. Which given the variety doesn't seem like it would be so hard. BUT, I am quite picky about the socks I choose. They have to speak to me. Not literally. Good heavens, I am not that far gone. But they have to somehow be unique. To date I have 24 pair of October holiday socks and I am always on the lookout for more.

Wearing crazy holiday socks under my dignified outfits makes me feel a bit rebellious and like I am getting away with something. Plus it is just plain fun. People look at outfits, belts, scarves, pants, shoes, earrings, etc.... But unless you are one of those crazy people who wear socks with sandals, no one ever looks at your socks. Most of the time they are hidden by pants or close toed shoes. So when I have to dress up for a formal occasion, on go the crazy holiday socks. An important meeting I have to speak at...you guessed it, I most likely am rocking some weird footwear.

Wearing crazy socks gives me an inside joke to chuckle over all day long. At some point during a serious conversation, my mind will wander a bit and I will be thinking, hee hee hee, sir or madam, right now you are talking about X, and I am wearing socks with dancing candy corn on them. Hee hee hee. And then I go back to paying attention. But it really does make me chuckle every time.

I think my favorite holiday socks are ones that I bought to go along with a western costume. They are knee highs and look wild westy, especially since they both have a picture of an anklet holster with gun on both sides. My favorite thing to do when I wear those socks is to hitch up my pant leg to an innocent bystander (always a friend, I would totally weird out a stranger) display the fake sock gun holster and shout WAH BAM! I have no idea why I started doing that, but it just seems to go with the socks. You can't do that with the plain black and white ones. You can't even do it with argyle. Well, I suppose you could, but it would be very, very odd.

Yup, I love my holiday socks. They add spice to my life, a spring to my step and a giggle to my lips. I highly suggest that you go out and get a pair if you don't have some already.

My Town: OT Day 15

Seriously, how is October half over already. I mean, I was just waiting for it to start, it finally began and now it is hurtling towards the end. I guess time really does fly when you are having fun.
I know I have already talked about decorations, but I just can't help myself. The thought for the day was brought about by a mix of things. While everyone in the house was taking a nap (pets included) I had the living room all to myself. The day was kind of dark so I turned on the Halloween village early. I sat on the sofa and watched the lights flicker. After a while I picked up a magazine and began to thumb through it. Two words in one of the articles caught my attention, they were "imagination library."

Now if you know me at all, you know my brain was immediately thinking two different things at once. I was pondering what exactly an imagination library would look like if it were to take on a physical form, and I was thinking about my inspiration file in my desk. From now on of course, I am going to call it my imagination library. What a wonderful choice of words. I put the magazine down, looked back at the Halloween village and began to day dream.

Every year I have spare moments where I imagine what it would be like to live in my Halloween village. There are a mix of spooky and normal houses, 2 churches, several barns, a grocer, a mill, mansions, modest suburban dwellings, a few ghosts, Halloween trees, fall trees, of course a movie theater and much more.

My favorite piece of the village will always be the haunted mansion that my grandmother made for me. It is ceramic, the paint is chipped in places, the lights on the inside only work half the time, and each transition of color makes a clicking noise. But it is an old haunted mansion after all and such things come standard. My next favorite is a mansion that dwarfs the ceramic one both in girth and height. There are rickety wrought iron railings and bats hang from almost every gutter. The rocking chair on the front porch creaks and every so often the house lights up with a lightning flash. It is a pretty great house. I think I would divide my time living in the two.

My Halloween village has had various incarnations. it is a magical town after all and nothing likes to stay stagnant. I can imagine walking down the cobblestone lane of my town. Some roads would be paved, some would be dirty and filled with overgrown weeds. Some roads would lead off into the woods and some would take you right to the mayors residence. In my town fall would be a big deal and a mandatory three month celebration. The local high school would be named after either bats or pumpkins and the town drink would be cider. Of course my town would be very monster tolerant. After all, monsters are either lab experiments gone wrong, or individuals who could just use a really good hug.

The Mummy, would run the local Bed Bath and Beyond. The Invisible Man would be the sheriff. The Creature from the Black Lagoon would be the swim coach, Frankenstein would be a surgeon and the Wolfman would be the owner of the local cinema. Dracula would be the bank manager and the Phantom of the Opera the local music teacher. An Igor would run the local coffee joint and the Headless Horseman would be the bus driver.

But the library. The library would be something special. After all, it would be an imagination library. The building would never be in the same place twice. Some times it might be found in the deepest parts of the forest. Other times it might be underneath the lake. Every so often you might find it on main street....or above main street. You could only access it by closing your eyes and picturing it. Once you saw it in your minds eye, suddenly you would be standing inside the great front hall. This library would be built like a castle, but without the drafts. There would be many rooms, attics, basements, secret passage ways and comfy chairs. There would be roaring fireplaces, window seats, spiral staircases, catacombs, and rolling ladders. Genies, elves, gargoyles and ghosts would retrieve any book you needed and you would never have to worry about returning books because once you were done with them they would just reappear back on the shelves in the library.

In my library there would always be a chair waiting just for you. And it would always be exactly what you wanted and exactly where you needed it to be. The only limits to what the library could be, would be your own imagination. Instead of using elevators to get to different floors, you would use magic mirrors. And as to the imagination part, there would be a very special room for that. Once in the room, you could walk around inside your own imagination. You could sail the seven seas, fly along the clouds, create a world entirely built by gumdrops. After all, it would be your imagination.

Wow, best town ever. I can't wait to move there. But first I have to find the shrinking potion that Alice drank in Wonderland. I know I put it around here somewhere. That pesky rabbit must have run off with it. Now that you know about my imagination library, what would yours look like? Have in it? Did I mention mine has a coffee fountain and butlers who like to bring you scones.

Rainy Day Fruits and Vegetables: OT Day 14

It is kind of funny that I talked about superstition on the thirteenth, since I then fell prey to it. I had a great October day yesterday, and it started off in the most wonderful way possible. I was getting ready to go to bed and as I turned off my reading light, I heard it.......RAIN. And not just any rain, the very first October rain. This area has been needing some liquid sunshine for quite a while. The valley was choked with smoke and foul air and a dash of rain was just what the doctor ordered.

Well, the minute I knew it was raining I had to go out and play in it. Nevermind that it was 5 am on a Saturday. It was the most glorious feeling. It was a gentle, warm rain that went pitter pat and danced on the cement. It had already been raining long enough to coat everything and that meant that my bare feet were moist the minute I stepped outside. I just stood there in the dark letting the droplets kiss my nose, toes and eyelids. And the smell. Man, I wish that I could bottle it and keep it in my pocket for a dreary day. The air was so sweet with rain. I have never had that experience. I just took in heaving lungfuls. It was the best way to bid adieu to the night.

Once I awoke from my slumber I never would have guessed that rain had come to play a few hours previous. Everything was bone dry, but there were two wonderful changes. One, the smog and smoke were gone leaving the valley sparkling and shiny in the sunlight. And two, for some reason the rain had turned a majority of the trees various shades of autumn wonderful. Normally rain makes trees greener, but everywhere I went leaves that had previously been a monochromatic green the day before, were now in a riot of color. An October miracle if ever there was one.

It was the perfect day and I needed a way to celebrate. So I fortified myself with a pumpkin spice latte and set off looking for adventure. I found it at the local produce stand. Now this is where the superstition part comes in. You see, I love this stand. So do most people that I have run across. It is THE place to go. It opens some time in August and every year I mean to go visit right around opening day. But for some reason I never do, and instead end up going in October. I don't know what it is, but no matter how much I want to go early, I find myself waiting. There is just something special about the farm stand in October. Yes, there is a pumpkin patch. There are also hay rides, bales to take pictures on and a mini maze for the kids. Oddly enough, that is not why I go. I go for the produce. I have never seen such amazing specimens. Maybe it is because I am a city girl. Maybe it is because I have a black thumb. But everything at this stand looks a bit otherworldly and I think it is because of October. I just can't bring myself to go any earlier because maybe the magic would be gone and then I would be so sad. Silly superstitious nonsense if you ask me.......but then again.

I can spend large chunks of time at this place just browsing the bins and taking pictures of things. I look like a loon I'm sure. To me, these specimens are art. They are super models who reside in plywood enclosures. Their coloring is so vivid. The their stems so leafy and full. It just boggles my mind. As much as I love hay rides, photo ops with scarecrows and pumpkin patches, I ignore them all. Off you go people, have fun, just leave me here with the squash and corn.

Every year I find some new form of garden comestible. This year I found two new types of pumpkins. I thought I knew them all. I was wrong. The first one I ran across is shaped like a giant acorn, if acorns were giant and a flaming reddish orange color. They also look like hearts if you squint your eyes just right and look kinda sideways. The are amazing and I am going to buy one just so I can have it to look at to my hearts content without getting stared at funny by other people. It really is a marvel. Who knew that pumpkins came in acorn shape? Then there is a white pumpkin that looks like either a UFO or a pie top depending on if you ask my mother or myself. I say UFO, she says pie. But really, it is white and looks like a pumpkin that someone sat on, but in a really artful way. Of course I just had to have it. Now that I know there are UFO looking pumpkins out in the world, I may never go back to the generic orange fellows. Yeah right, who am I kidding. I am an equal opportunity pumpkin purchaser.

My absolute favorite farm stand food is the incredible, edible, eggplant. If I ever see a roadside stand or a farmers market, I immediately look for my lovely aubergine. The specimens here are so glossy and voluptuous it is almost obscene. Nothing should look that lush and inviting. And guess what, they don't only come in deep purple, there are also albino eggplants. I was so startled that I may or may not have slightly jostled a man aside so that I could take a picture. They also had tiny, baby eggplants. I have never seen small, skinny eggplants before, just their curvy purple cousins. Maybe they are the half starved, trendy relatives from the city. Either way, they were marvelous and they were nestled right next to a bin of peppers that were so bright they looked like Christmas lights. Reds, yellows, oranges, and a few green. They positively sparkled and radiated heat. I took more pictures. I felt like the produce paparazzi.

My most astonishing find were the brussel sprouts, (who knew they came in lumpy branches the size of a yard stick) and the cabbages. I have never, EVER seen cabbages so huge. The small ones were the size of basketballs. BASKETBALLS. It was nuts. The large ones looked like they could trample Tokyo. I would have loved to have seen them in their natural state in the field before they were picked. I can't imagine the wonderfully leafy beds they made. Then they and the brussel sprouts kinda started to remind me of the pods from Invasion of the Body Snatchers, so I moved slowly away and went back to ogling the eggplants.

Seriously, how can folks not be amazed by the things at a produce stand? How have we become so immune to beauty and wonder. The leafy stems of the carrots had better looking hair than me. It was full and waved in the wind. The plums looked like a basket of jewels just casually laying about. And the cauliflower looked like stately wedding bouquets. It was just amazing. So amazing in fact, that I am going back later today just so I can see what goodies have appeared since I was last there. Plus, all that ogling I did made me hungry so I had to go back and get my autumn recipes out. I'm a woman with a mission today. Operation produce purchase will soon be underway.

The shine of the apples, the earthy smell of the bins, the sounds of the hay wagons moving through the fields. It is an experience like no other and I am convinced that October lends it extra magic that can't be found in other months. So I will keep my silly superstitions and enjoy things all the more.

The Day Gives It Away or The One Where I Teach You Stuff: OT Day 13

October is a very multifaceted month. There is the scary, the snuggly, the beautiful, the tasty and the fun. I like to add one more to that mix, the contemplative. October always gets my creative juices flowing. I think deep thoughts. I reminisce. I imagine. Along with nostalgia, I also like to think about the why questions, and what better time to ponder them than October 13th. So much the better if it happens to fall on a Friday.
This year the 13th falls on a Saturday, which is fine. But it still gets me to thinking, specifically about superstitions. The definition of superstition as Webster gives it is threefold. 1) a belief or notion, not based on reason or knowledge, in or of the ominous significance of a particular thing, circumstance, occurrence, proceeding or the like. 2) a system or collection of such beliefs 3) a custom or act based on such a belief.

Being a geeky history major (and proud of it) I like to examine why things are the way they are. I don't just like to do things cuz that's the way they have always been done. I want the back story so I can make an informed decision. Supersitions, fairytales, legend, story, song, myth, all of these can tell you a lot about a population or a person. It can give you an insight into what they believe and why and a glimpse into daily life.

Since this is October, let me give you a suitable example. Take the vampire. In the lovely olden days of yore, vampires were not the romantic heroes they are now. Vampires were agents of evil who looked like something my cat coughed up and smelled even worse. They were misshapen, had claws and lived in squalor. The superstion centering around them came about because these early ancestors didn't know much about corpses and lividity. If someone died you buried them and didn't poke around to see what made them tick. Doing that sort of thing got you burned at the stake or worse.

Unfortunately, not being inquisitive left them ignorant to the fact that corpses do move. They also make sounds. Even knowing this, if I was in a morgue with one and an arm moved or the body made a noise I might think it was something undead and be fearful as well. Anyway, from this ignorance came about the idea that some people had the capability to come back to life after they died. So what do you do to someone who used to be living, died and then seemingly came back? Well, you got a very large bit of wood and rammed it into their chest, or you cut off their head. That seemed to be the catch all solution. Of course with gases and such, the body might emit a noise upon "expiring" the second time thus giving credence to the belief that the being was a member of the undead. Thus a superstition and legend were born.

Now that we in the thoroughly modern future know all about corpse behavior, the fable of the vampire has changed significantly. What once was a dark evil doer who was bent on destruction is now suddenly a power symbol. Where once it was a foul fiend who lived in caves, we have Armani wearing socialites who live in mansions. Modern man has changed the vampire myth into a story of power and not fear. In our quest to retain youth and vigor (plastic surgery, cryo sleep) we have traded in the fear of the vampire for admiration. It is funny to see how society has changed the supersition to fit the mindset. If you showed a pitch fork wielding villager from the middle ages a vampire film today (assuming they wouldn't totally be freaked out by the whole motion picture process) they would think we were nuts. See, isn't history fascinating.

The same can be said with fairy tales. When the Grimm's wrote their stories originally, they were capturing and collecting the tales that ordinary folk told around the fire. These were not nice stories. They were cautionary tales. Don't trust strangers, don't go into the woods, animals are dangerous, beware things you don't understand. The tales are dark and most do not end well. But that is the point. You learn from the characters mistakes so that you don’t have to make them. In the original Grimm fairy tale, Snow White's prince is a lustful jerk. Snow tortures the queen on her (Snow's) wedding day until the queen dies. There is no wake up kiss. People back then were not so much concerned with true love. Kings and queens were not to be trusted. Again, we see things differently. We look at the true love aspect. The hopeful, everything will work out aspect. Because that is the world we live in. If you wait long enough, or stumble upon the right circumstances you too can find true love and a castle waiting for you around the corner. I'm pretty sure the past century villagers would laugh at us. And then poke us with a pitchfork for showing them moving pictures.

In one of my favorite scary movies, a museum is hosting a superstition exhibit (so you know everyone is pretty much doomed from the get go). Every time I watch it I get excited. Not to see people get eaten by beasties. But because I would love to see such an exhibit in real life. In the movie, guests have to walk into the mouth of a giant sculpture and follow a roped off path. Along the path they must walk under a room full of open umbrellas, walk under fully opened ladders, and walk across the path of a room full of fake black cats. There are also a room of broken mirrors and cracks along the path that one can't help but step on. Somewhere along the way there is an exhibit dedicated to the King Tut expedition. The cursed dig that claimed the lives of all who opened the tomb. In the film I think you have to walk over the boy kings grave. I would LOVE to see a live feed of those paths. How many people would walk in without fear, and how many would try to find an alternate path, or not go in at all?

Even if you are not a superstitious person, you can still find yourself being drawn in. Why? I think because it is a human reaction. If you have a bunch of people who are afraid of something, I think your body just reacts. It may not seem sensible or logical, but the combined anxiety of a certain thing happening just seeps into our pores and we go along.

Athletes have lucky socks, shoes, bats, gloves, uniforms, pre game routines, all because they think they will help them win a game. And to an extent they might. It is a round about form of meditation. A way to ready yourself. But it is still superstition. We all do it. We cross our fingers, we go a certain route, we see a penny and pick it up. We read a fortune or horoscope and believe it. If a good thing happened once when we did a certain thing, perhaps it will happen again. Superstition is our way of making sense of things we don't understand. It is our way to exert a little control over the uncontrollable.

As a historian I find superstition endlessly fascinating. I have books about superstitions and mostly they make me laugh. I think, how odd. Or who would be silly enough to believe that. But then again, I yell at characters on my TV screen and pretend that they can hear me and make changes accordingly. "No you fool, don't go into that room, the monster is in there. Run. RUN." They haven't listened to me yet, but I still keep on yelling. I guess they deserve to get eaten ;) Superstitions can truly be fascinating things. I'll bet you didn't even realize that. What are some of the superstitions in your life? I'll bet you have more than you think

October Cozies: OT Day 12

I started this thought last night, but the siren song of my warm, cozy bed finally proved to much for me to resist. I would like to say that I slipped off to sleep and dreamed of candy corn and dancing pumpkins. Instead I dreamed about math. Which was weird. But I woke up this morning a bit more refreshed than usual and ready to tackle my thought for the day.

There is something about October that makes me feel cozy and happy. Beyond Halloween, decorations, corn mazes and pumpkin lattes at Starbucks, this feeling I think, is the reason that I love this month so much. Maybe it has something to do with the fact that the weather starts to turn cooler (YAY). The days aren't quite so hot anymore, and the nights have a pleasantly chilly bite to them. Fans and ice packs get put away for another year while snuggly blankets and fuzzy slippers are dug out from the backs of closets. Or maybe it is because it starts to get dark earlier and there is more time to star gaze or take strolls in the twilight.

Really everything about October is cozy. The colors are richer and warmer. Snuggling by the fireside is that much better. Comfort foods come out. Thick and rich things like stews and hot cocoa, or sweet like pumpkin bread and cider. Then there are the soft things like quits, coats, gloves, sweaters and knit hats. If summer is a nice cool dip in a lake, then autumn is a hearty jump into a snuggly feather bed. Whoops, I'm getting sleepy just typing that.

In autumn/October I have a deeper enjoyment of cooking. Breads, soups, hearty meals with vegetables straight from a farmers market. Food and sharing it is so much more enjoyable to me when you don't have to fend off bugs or melt from the heat of the oven in an already hot day. In October gardens are coming in and people are either canning or sharing the bounty of their hard work with friends and family to enjoy. I am gardening and yard work challenged. I supposed I could do it if I really, really had to, but I tend to have a black thumb and plants seen to quickly rot and die just to escape me. Thanks to the bounty of October generosity, this year we have been gifted with tomatoes, apples, beans, squashes of all shapes and sizes, plums, peaches and cucumbers. I have baked, chopped, cooked, boiled, and blended to my hearts content and I still have more to go.

October is the perfect time to curl up in a snuggly chair and read. To me, it is sheer bliss to slip on some fuzzy socks, grab a cup of tea and lose myself for hours. I have a few books that I have saved this summer specifically for October snuggle reading. I am waiting for the perfect day. When there is sunshine but a chill in the air. When the world is a soft amber color and there is a slight breeze in the trees. I get a day like that every year. I have no idea when it will come, but it always shows up. Today is close and I have my books and magazines at the ready.

October is when I can finally wear my scarves, mittens and hats and not look weird or be on the verge of passing out from heat stroke. Besides it just looks odd if you have a hat and gloves in the middle of summer. October is when I get to slip on my furry boots to tromp up to the mailbox. When I can start wearing sweatshirts in the early hours of the morning as I watch the sun rise and the fog lift. October is also the time I start to wear socks again. It may be because the weather is turning cooler and I no longer can wear flip flops, or it may be because October is when they come out with holiday socks. It's too close to call really.

I am just more at peace with things in October. I am content to just be. The mornings are brisk and when I wake up I enjoy staying in my nice warm bed cocoon and daydreaming. Some of my favorite memories are from October. Specifically I like to recall sitting in my bedroom back home and watching the rain fall down onto the leaves on our back porch. My favorite position was with my nose pressed almost up to the glass with my chin resting on the wooden frame. I would sit with my feet on the heater wrapped in my moms old yellow bathrobe. I could do it for hours.

I also loved to sit in front of the fire place in our front room and do my homework at night. There was something about the twinkle of the city lights through the window, the smell of wood smoke and the crackle and pop of the fire that soothed me. I could read about the Industrial Revolution or the conquests of Charlemagne while wrapped in a fuzzy orange blanket with a dog at my feet. I miss that fireplace.

Now that we have moved, my new favorite memories are of being in the church at dark looking through the atrium windows at the orange sodium lights. I is the best feeling in the world to sit and listen to their hum and watch the sway of shadows as the trees move outside.

I am lucky enough to have floor heating vents at the new house and one of my favorite October pastimes is to snuggle up next to the vent with a blanket and cuddle with the puppy and kitty. Their favorite spots are on either side of my head and I have to make sure to give each the exact same amount of love and attention. If the night is really cold, the puppy will crawl under the blanket with me and snuggle close.

See, October really is the coziest month, and I wouldn't have it any other way.