As the Gregorian month of November has officially come to a close, the final remnants of spooky season, to the layman, will surely be disappearing with it.
I have long thought about the pumpkins that hang around on porches after Halloween’s end. How they stand out in a world that seems to have forgotten Halloween ever was, and wonder what their story is. Have they just been forgotten by those whose homes they inhabit, or is it intentional? Is there someone dwelling in these places that’s at least a little bit like me, and wants to leave some representation of their favorite time of year lying around until it rots away in its own time?
And, perhaps this is a silly question, but do the pumpkins know somehow that their moment has ended?
As I said, these are things I have often thought about, but I recently was inspired to do even more thinking on the subject.
An artist on Instagram, Everett’s Attic, recently designed these two Christmas pumpkins, named Rotting and Plotting, and tagged me in the post, as she, and her pumpkins, knew we belonged together. I fell in love with the backstory she created for them, which is as follows, copied from the caption under their post on Instagram:
So the story goes, Rotting and Plotting grew up on the vine together...always knowing their post October fate.
They were picked by an adorable pair of sisters, grateful to be able to stay together. Susie, the oldest was a blondie so of course she picked the matching pumpkin. Stacy, the baby was excited to find a smaller orange pumpkin, who also matched her! Happily the girls took the girls home never knowing THEIR post October fate...
Rotting and Plotting sat on a beautiful front porch for all of October. Watched the girls rush out the front door, time and time again, so USED to the pumpkins not even a hello was said... Rotting was fine with it. She thought, "I'm a pumpkin, that's what I do..." Plotting, though, she was... well, plotting. She wanted Christmas. She wanted snow and presents and cute dresses with white trim. She didn't want to end up, like the rest of them... in the trash can.
The day was coming close. Plotting paid close attention... yearning to hear mom's voice telling the sisters to "get those pumpkins off the porch, its family Christmas picture time!"
The day was cold. Plotting finally heard it... and knew the girls would be eager to follow mama's instructions, Santa was watching... the trash bins were just down the driveway a bit.... it didn't take long.
Rotting and Plotting will never miss a Christmas again.
It’s hard to explain, but I felt such a connection to these pumpkins and their story, based on the way I’ve always thought about post-October pumpkins in the past. On some level I’ve wished I could save them all...Just run right up to the houses in question, snag the pumpkins from wherever they sit, and take them home to a place where they’ll be preserved, loved, and appreciated, until they absolutely can’t anymore. (If you know me on Instagram, you know that I will continue to photograph my pumpkins even long after they’ve begun to rot!) For some, acquiring pumpkins is just an absent-minded fall tradition with no real weight behind it, but for me, it’s always an act of love and devotion. And I feel like Rotting and Plotting here have finally helped me be able to realize my dream of saving post-October pumpkins and giving them the best that pumpkin life has to offer.
Happy December, boils and ghouls. Take time to appreciate the pumpkins that may still be lurking around somewhere near you. If you fail to do so, well...the results could be tragic, like they were for poor Susie and Stacey.
Stay spooky, my friends.
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