Halloween

Again this year, we will not go to any trouble to decorate since the neighborhood kids already think of our place as "The Haunted House."  
Reportedly, the previous owners were slain in their beds by an escaped homicidal lunatic with a hook for a hand.  Parents and kids, hooked to death.   The crime scene was so gory that the county coroner resigned the next day.  

Sometimes at night when I get up to go to the bathroom I see dead people - the ghosts of the kids with bloody hook marks... well, you don't really want to know the details.  

But the ghosts really spook the cats sometimes.  Cats have a special connection with the spirit world.  Come to think of it, the tragedy happened around Halloween back in 1995.  The murderer was never caught and some people think it might have been a vampire.

Hey what's that?   Something seems to be scratching at the door... Oh no.  Its a daemon or something.  Smells like rotting flesh.  Big teeth.  Wants to drink my blood.  I know, silver bullets in gun.  Load.  Cock.  Fire.  Bang, Bang ..Eek,   Argh,  (silence).

Hi.  this is the vampire, the poor pale shmuck is lying, drained and lifeless, on the rug.  Just for the record, silver bullets only kill werewolves.   Hahahahahahahahaahahaha! 

Carpe Autumn

There is nothing as magic as an early morning stroll under a bright New England sky in October. The crisp, moist air hangs like golden wisps of smoke, whispering ripe apples and pumpkins.

Emily Dickinson found the slant of light on winter afternoons to be oppressive, but for me the hue and angle of the light in autumn is a tonic for the soul.

Yes, you can feel the promise of frost in the damp air and the dew glistening on the grass. One night, very soon, the tomato vines and marigold leaves will turn black. We will pull them up and toss them on the compost pile.

Though we will sorely miss the freshly picked tomatoes for our salads and homemade salsa, and we will long for the luxury of golden pungent marigolds in vases, we will not mourn their passing.   We are already thinking of the spring planting and renewal.

Perhaps it is the knowledge that we only have a few precious weeks to savor the fruits of our cultivation makes us appreciate them more. And we dare to look ahead with hope to the inevitable Spring

We who love the change of seasons welcome Autumn, and in turn, Winter. We do not carp about weather. We celebrate the changes in the skies.  We carpe the diem.

You will not hear us complaining about the rain or the heat or even the hurricane. We take what comes, knowing that, if there is a God, then it is His will.  Despite our prayers or wishes or puny technology we have no power over weather – we can only try to endure.

You may hear us remark that the lawn is brown or the snow is too deep to go to work.  These are not complaints they are merely observations.  We are Buddhists.  We cannot make the weather happen.  We can only sit and hunker down when the winds blow, and wait for the lovely days.

This is life.  Because the earth is off-kilter, we have seasons.  They say the earth has a constant temperature at the depth six feet.  Lord knows we will have plenty of time for that.