Blessed be the ancestors,
the ones whom life has fled.
Tonight we merry meet again
our own beloved dead.
The wheel of the year turns on,
a new year is in our sights.
The maiden has become the crone.
We celebrate this night.
Happy Samhain, all!
Happy Friday, friends, and Happy Halloween, too.
I should state for the record that I am not one of those like this fellow blogger who considers this to be “the coolest holiday known to man and Otherworldly Beings.”
Today, you can pretend you are anyone you want to be, and finally ignore that lifelong ban on taking candy from strangers. How can a day get any better???
So, no, this is not my favorite holiday by any means. Not even close. I have never in my life gone trick-or-treating — which means that I guess I was just raised to dislike this holiday — and I have never answered my door to the little neighborhood shits, either. In fact, I’ll confess that I prefer Groundhog Day to Halloween.
On the other hand, I have never interfered with the rest of my family’s Halloween hilarity and I’ll confess that there are one or two things about it that I think are kind of fun.
None of these women is me – just so you know.
Everything you write comes from somewhere.
Or … because really, I can only speak for myself … certainly everything I write comes from somewhere.
What I am about to write comes from here, where Gina was bemoaning her inability to stick with an exercise program. (If any of you can offer any words of wisdom for her, please share. I said what I had to say but I’m only her mom, so what do I know?)
Having just confessed to being her mom, you will no doubt now be able to peg me as the parent she refers to who has been working out since she was little tiny, modeling lifelong fitness for my daughter in the hopes that she would come to place value on it. And it worked! She has come to place value on it.
The discipline required to implement? Not so much.
I am in a state of shock.
One of the things that happens when you work for a county-level public benefit agency is that you end up working with a bunch of public officials. One of those public officials, the mayor of Oneonta (the city that I live in) died over the weekend of an apparently self-inflicted gunshot wound to the head.
Everybody in my office is wandering around, reeling from the news. And I haven’t gotten a decent night’s sleep since it happened.
I don’t know why. Mayor Miller was a great guy and he was very welcoming and encouraging when I graduated from Hartwick and started working here. He knew a bunch of my professors because he used to be president of the college before he ran for mayor. He lived right across the street from David, the current chair of the Anthropology Department. I worked with him quite a bit but I didn’t really know him all that well. At least, not beyond his very public face.