Grouse Hollow Journal for October 16, 2014 by Greg Koelker

Grouse Hollow in October

Grouse Hollow Journal for October 16, 2014 by Greg Koelker

There is something about a pumpkin. Those sweet squash represent October and the advent of fall in its full orange glory. They herald something really special when one walks into a warm kitchen with the spicy sweet aroma of pumpkin pie and desserts baking. Of course there will be the silly, sad Charlie Brown special about the Great Pumpkin on TV next week. I can take or leave Halloween as a holiday, but it used to fun to dress up like a hobo and go house to house, extorting treats in exchange for no tricks one night of the year.

Our mountain man, Benjamin was diagnosed with diabetes when he was 18 months old, so by the time he was trick or treatin' age, we had to figure something out. What Ellen came up with was that I would buy his candy from him to fill our lunch boxes during gun deer season. It worked out well for both of us. The boys and I would go up the coulee visiting the neighbors, the kids getting candy and dad getting an adult beverage. By the time we got home, we were all happy. Hmmm, I guess I do kind of like Halloween.

I used to like to carve pumpkins. In high school I started carving fancy, scary faces into pumpkins beyond the usual triangle eyes, nose, and teeth in art class and for my home. By college, I got into getting a huge pumpkin and carving wild eyes with long jagged noses and Big Daddy Rat teeth and tongues - it was great for party decoration. Ellen and I grew those huge pumpkin-like squash for some years in our garden. Mac the Singing Jeweler came out a couple times to do his Halloween commercial in our pumpkin patch with my little ghoulies peeking out behind the nearly 3 foot tall orbs. We also have a picture of Mark standing in a huge jack-o-lantern on our old porch just able to peek out. (We had to have Emmet Clements haul those big suckers up to the house with his tractor and bucket!)

Anyway, I read recently that we carve pumpkins at Halloween to ward of evil spirits. With the election upon us in its full fury of opponent bashing, hyperbole, number obfuscation, dissembling, and bragging, I just might need to get out my carving tools again. (I wonder if it would help to put up a ring of jack-o-lanterns around the capital building in Madison?)

Until next time, get out - we had a campfire in our fire pit Saturday evening. I used some dried leaves as tinder and the pile of yard waste pine limbs and needles merrily sprang to life, the sweet aroma of pine smoke drifting up the coulee. I conjured up some adult beverages, and Ellen brought out some cheese and almonds. Scout doesn't much like the fire, but she does love cheese, so she finally crowded in between our chairs. It was clear and cool as the sun retreated into the bluff top with no wind. We sat and talked quietly and tortured the dog with petting and a piece of cheese or two. At nearly full dusk, we could hear a four-wheeler coming down the hill. It was Gregg and Jake Sikora out on the youth gun hunt. They joined us at the fire and shared the story of the hunt. Gregg called his wife, Cindy and she and daughter Pearl came over too. We visited while the fire crackled. Ellen made the kids hot chocolate, and we caught up the neighbors as a nearly full moon rose overhead. We have to do this more often. Finally, how about them Packers? Enjoy.