Pumpkin Moonshines

We have a family tradition.  October nights we sit on the porch under blankets, light the candles and read Pumpkin Moonshines by Tasha Tudor. Little Sylvie Ann visits her Grandmummy in Connecticut.  She wants to make a pumpkin moonshine--that is, a jack-o-lantern--so she goes out to the pumpkin patch and picks such a fine one. It rolls down the hill past the goats and the poultry and runs right into Mr. Hemmelskamp who was carrying a pail full of whitewash. Her Grandpawp comes out and cuts the top off that runaway pumpkin and makes it into a pumpkin moonshine. They hide behind the bushes to watch how terrified the passersby are at the sight of their fierce pumpkin moonshine. They had a wonderful time.

This morning I spent a few minutes and pulled all the Thanksgiving books from the shelves and put them in a basket for easy reading. I don't miss diapers. I don't miss buckling seat belts. I don't miss all that much from early childhood, which is coming to a close at our house.  But, I'm gonna miss the books. I confess to having spent an exorbitant amount of money on children's books. Factor in two sets of book-loving grandparents and you can guess we have more than our share. Oh well. I love them. I'm guessing I will keep buying beautiful hardcover picture books even when my kids are too big for them. Dolls and doll clothes too.

This might not surprise you. . . but I have kept a journal off and on for most of my life. To read the journal, you might think I was having a pretty tough life, or that I was always mad at my mom. That is because I'm guilty of mostly writing on the bad days. On the good days we don't always think to write. So, today I'm writing. And, I'm long since over being mad at my mom.

Sometimes everyday life is just enough. This month we are in a pretty good groove, everyone is pretty much being their very best selves. Practicing is going good. Nobody is acting like a doofus at church. Generally respectful acceptable behavior.  Bill has been home more. Mary is sick today, but not too sick. My mom was a school teacher. I remember the subtle grin that came over my mom's face when I would wake up "just a little sick."  She would have to stay home with me. Cupboards got cleaned out. Craft projects got started. Naps got taken. I lay on the sofa bored to tears, feeling better soon.

Here's to family traditions, and books, and everyday life.