Carving the annual Halloween pumpkin ranks high among my fondest childhood memories. Perhaps it is because there was no other holiday baggage attached. Mostly I remember when we lived in Syracuse, NY. That was between my fourth and sixth grades in school, and I was pumpkin-ready.
My Mother and I would always pick the most worthy (read ‘symmetrical’ here) orange pumpkin and bring it home from the supermarket somewhere in the middle of October. We’d wait until an evening when I didn’t have much homework to begin the carving process.
We’d cut a top off the pumpkin and set it aside. Then we’d scoop out the seeds and strings and make the inside smooth. Some people roasted the seeds, but my Mother never did. She simply tossed them in the garbage; and it was only later that I learned of their snack value.
After the inside of the pumpkin was clean and smooth, we began creating the face. It wasn’t fancy, like today. There were no clever tools to make eyebrows or curls or rounded mouths. Instead, we cut triangles for eyes, an upside down triangle for a nose, and a perpetually jagged mouth. But, once the candle was inserted inside, the nuances of eyebrows and dimples didn’t matter. Our pumpkin smiled.
After I had children of my own, I continued the carving ritual. But, today, in the supermarket I see handpainted pumpkins. I can see their value, in that they probably last longer than the ones we cut into. At the same time, part of the fun of having a pumpkin is creating its own facial expression and not having someone else paint it for you.
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