Partaking Of A Pumpkin Pastime

Stephanie and I partook of the time-honored Halloween tradition of carving a jack- o'-lantern. She read to me about the Irish origins of the holiday, while I scooped out the orange orb's guts with my bare hands. Stephanie said to me, "You know there's a scooper for that," pointing in the direction of an orange, plastic utensil that came with our "Pumpkin Masters" kit. "I like the squishy feel of the pumpkin pulp in my hands," I said, wiggling my slimy fingers in the air.

Likewise, I wanted to hear all the gory details of the old Irish mythical figure of Stinky Jack, which is what I accidentally called him. (He is, in fact, Stingy Jack. I hope he doesn't haunt me. It was an innocent mistake).  My pumpkin may be gutless but I am not I bellowed, raising my "Easy Grip Carving Saw," to the sky!  (Okay, that did not happen, but it could have. I become very intense when I'm carving a pumpkin. I've been known to swear).  I wanted to know about this famously frugal fellow, the devil that he dared, and the dark and ghastly nights he wanders the earth carrying an errrr...turnip.  https://www.irishcentral.com/roots/history/original-irish-jack-o-lanterns-were-truly-horrifying-and-made-of-turnips

I always thought the turnip was that vegetable you push around your plate on Thanksgiving as a kid.  Apparently, it's also a lantern in purgatory! (Who knew it was so versatile?) According to Irish Central, Stingy Jack, has been "sent into the eternal night, with a burning coal inside a carved-out turnip to light his way." (Eventually, we swapped the turnip for a more carvable pumpkin and Stingy Jack became known as "Jack O'Lantern," but in folklore he still relies on the rutabaga, carrying the flickering plant like a searchlight for his soul).

I can relate to Jack's never-ending, gloomy journey because I had to carry our pumpkin, which Steph said easily weighs five pounds at least, during a rainy, dark day on a harrowing five minute journey, which felt like five hours, while also carrying guacamole and Mexican Cokes. (The grocery store was out of Brach's Mellowcreme Pumpkins).  As if that wasn't enough, I got a head cold the next day.

Actually, now that I think about it Stingy Jack may have been a tad more fortunate than I was.  When I brought the pumpkin home, it was so heavy that I set it on the floor and uhhh...left it there.  Later, in the middle of the night I got up to get a glass of water and forgetting where my precious pumpkin was, I tripped over it. I almost went flying, taking to the air like the ghosts and witches. So, he is lucky to have that ancient vegetable flashlight. The next time that I hear turnips are being served for dinner, I will make the case that they are needed for Jack, who is stingy and will not buy his own. It would be like leaving milk and cookies for Santa, except that I wouldn't try to catch a glimpse of him. I would hide behind my jack-o'-lantern.