Samhain 2018
Oct. 31st, 2018 09:05 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ismoI actually slept pretty well last night, and was awakened only by obnoxious political texts making my phone noisy. It was for someone I was going to vote for anyway, so I told them that and asked them to stop texting me. It's the wave of the future, I fear, but I don't want it. I started dusting my room, which is a task I've had in mind for ages, and got as far as putting away the jewelry I'd left out, and removing dust from my abalone shell full of world money, and dusting the bedside table.
I took the Sparrowhawk to his eye surgery revisit. They removed the amniotic membrane that was used to patch his cornea while it was healing, and now he has binocular vision again and can drive. Yay! They have to wait a few weeks for the cornea to completely heal and regain focus so they can get a good read on a new prescription. At that point, they are hopeful they can correct his vision to 20/20, or very close to it, with the new glasses.
We ate bits and scraps for supper so we could have the jack-o-lantern out and the candles lit and be ready to give out candy by 5-ish, which is when the littlest ones start showing up. We dressed up--me in my autumn elf outfit again, and him in his Professor of Hogwarts academic robes. He's probably the only PhD who actually uses those things! I sewed a Hogwarts patch on his doctoral robes a couple of years ago, and he ordered the flat velvet cap with gold tassel that goes with the robe, but which most people don't wear. Sadly, we didn't get a lot of kids this year. All the immediate neighbors came, all of them just a little taller than last year, and one group of darling little kids from elsewhere. I wish I'd given them heaps more candy, because we have it left over! Last year, we had more visitors, including some older kids who showed up later, but tonight I think it's over, and we still have masses of candy. We may have to pack it up and mail it to the kids, since the Sparrowhawk can no longer palm it off on people at his office.
I made a little Samhain altar on the table by the window. I teared up at the thought of choosing a picture of my father, so this year I put out his old pen and magnifying glass that my mother gave me for my birthday the year he died. It was a bit weird at the time, but I don't mind having it now. (He owned a Mont Blanc, but she didn't give me that one! This is an old Pelikan with an italic nib.) I put out pictures of the Sparrowhawk's parents, his grandparents, and his beloved aunt. I put out a piece of flint my friend Bear, now long gone, brought back for me from some place out west that he wouldn't tell me exactly where it was--"It was a special place--YOU know," he said. He was a descendant of Buffalo Soldiers, so he knew some things. He gave me credit for some kind of special magic knowledge I do not in fact have. Or maybe I do, but I forgot. As another friend, the vault guy who coached our basketball team at my former work place once said to me, "You know! YOU KNOW. Why you say you don't know when you know you do?" I put out a book that my great-grandmother made for me. She was a seamstress, and used fabric scraps cut out with pinking shears as backing for the pages, on which she pasted Lady and the Tramp cartoon strips collected with loving care from the Chicago Tribune, and saved for me. And there were candles, and flowers, a shot of Long Road bourbon in one of my father's old sherry glasses, and a plate with a piece of bread and honeycomb on it. Those who were remembered had to represent for so many others who have gone. At my age, there are so many beloved dead. I guess I'm just lucky I still have so many on this side.
I took the Sparrowhawk to his eye surgery revisit. They removed the amniotic membrane that was used to patch his cornea while it was healing, and now he has binocular vision again and can drive. Yay! They have to wait a few weeks for the cornea to completely heal and regain focus so they can get a good read on a new prescription. At that point, they are hopeful they can correct his vision to 20/20, or very close to it, with the new glasses.
We ate bits and scraps for supper so we could have the jack-o-lantern out and the candles lit and be ready to give out candy by 5-ish, which is when the littlest ones start showing up. We dressed up--me in my autumn elf outfit again, and him in his Professor of Hogwarts academic robes. He's probably the only PhD who actually uses those things! I sewed a Hogwarts patch on his doctoral robes a couple of years ago, and he ordered the flat velvet cap with gold tassel that goes with the robe, but which most people don't wear. Sadly, we didn't get a lot of kids this year. All the immediate neighbors came, all of them just a little taller than last year, and one group of darling little kids from elsewhere. I wish I'd given them heaps more candy, because we have it left over! Last year, we had more visitors, including some older kids who showed up later, but tonight I think it's over, and we still have masses of candy. We may have to pack it up and mail it to the kids, since the Sparrowhawk can no longer palm it off on people at his office.
I made a little Samhain altar on the table by the window. I teared up at the thought of choosing a picture of my father, so this year I put out his old pen and magnifying glass that my mother gave me for my birthday the year he died. It was a bit weird at the time, but I don't mind having it now. (He owned a Mont Blanc, but she didn't give me that one! This is an old Pelikan with an italic nib.) I put out pictures of the Sparrowhawk's parents, his grandparents, and his beloved aunt. I put out a piece of flint my friend Bear, now long gone, brought back for me from some place out west that he wouldn't tell me exactly where it was--"It was a special place--YOU know," he said. He was a descendant of Buffalo Soldiers, so he knew some things. He gave me credit for some kind of special magic knowledge I do not in fact have. Or maybe I do, but I forgot. As another friend, the vault guy who coached our basketball team at my former work place once said to me, "You know! YOU KNOW. Why you say you don't know when you know you do?" I put out a book that my great-grandmother made for me. She was a seamstress, and used fabric scraps cut out with pinking shears as backing for the pages, on which she pasted Lady and the Tramp cartoon strips collected with loving care from the Chicago Tribune, and saved for me. And there were candles, and flowers, a shot of Long Road bourbon in one of my father's old sherry glasses, and a plate with a piece of bread and honeycomb on it. Those who were remembered had to represent for so many others who have gone. At my age, there are so many beloved dead. I guess I'm just lucky I still have so many on this side.
"so many on this side"
Date: 2018-11-01 04:24 am (UTC)930 here, and i've got a half a bowl of candy left. a crowd of teens walked past my open door. i walked out and hollered "you walked past candy", but they didn't hear me. oh well. it's been worse.
no subject
Date: 2018-11-01 12:41 pm (UTC)