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Do you know where the word October comes from? It is derived from the Latin word "Octo" meaning eighth, and the Romans used it to name the eighth month, October. Wait a minute, isn't October the tenth month? Yes, but the early Roman calendar had only 10 months, which began in March, ending in December, making October the tenth month. Much later they added Januand February, but the name of October stuck, even though it had dropped to the tenth month. In other words, October may be one of the original oxymorons, tricking us with the name opposite of the meaning. It's also very tricky in that it is hard to forecast. Makes sense as it is also the month of "Trick or Treat".
But before Halloween, 2000 years ago, October 31 was known as Samhain, which signaled the end of the growing season meaning the living (crops) were now dead, and harvest could begin. By the 8th Century the Christians named it All saints Day or All Hallows Eve, later shortened to Halloween. Even though October is unpredictable, it remains one of my favorite months, with a few exceptions. One, being in Northeast Michigan, boaters are pulling their boats out of the lakes and removing their docks before the ice crumbles them into metal salvage. And two, golf season is coming to a close. (As a retired resident of Hubbard Lake, Michigan, you can see where my priorities lie.) But my love for October goes back sixty years. Growing up in a Halloween family, preparations for the annual party began on October 1. New decorations were added to the old, names on the styrofoam headstones were changed, and black lights were tested. Plastic skeletons were snapped together and then there were those black spiders and white webs. Oh, I hate spiders and suffer from sever arachnophobia, where in my eyes every spider it the size of a dinner platter and can take a grown man's leg off at the knee! On Halloween evening, success wasn't judged by how many Trick or Treaters we had, but how many we could frighten, sending them running back to curb before they could ring the doorbell. October also meant the start of the Mallard duck season. The blind had been camouflaged, the propane heater tank filled, the decoys touched up with new paint and weights, and the old 1952 chevy pickup used for hunting was patched up with baling wire and duct tape. The memories of my boyhood, and still lifelong friend John, are retold over and over again about the time we drove it over a hidden stream in the dark, bouncing so hard my dad's homemade wooded bed-camper flew off the truck, or the time we started the wooden floor in the truck bed on fire with a metal five-gallon bucket of burning charcoal, before we discovered propane was safer. Priceless is what they say, which is few words less than the four-letter words said by my dad. Then there are the leaves. Neighbor Mark begins reminding me in the spring that before long we will be picking up leaves. Just this week he said we better get it done before an unpredictable October snowstorm covers them completely. And who can remember the smell of October back when we burned all the leaves. I don't see many still doing that today and I miss that reminder that winter is on the way. Finally there is the pumpkin decisions. How big, how many, and how can we carve them better than we did last year? For me, these days, it's a family affair, with children and grandchildren all gathered around the dining room table covered in newspaper, complete with all the new carving tools which have replaced my parent's old and simple steak knives. One by one the carved-out images emerge with pride, the pumpkin seeds all separated from the "guts", then roasted in the oven with a touch of salt. It all ends when as the sun goes down and the Jack-O-Lanterns make their debut on the front porch. As we enter October, the eight month now converted into the tenth month, let's embrace its sights and smells, it’s unpredictability, it's marking of the change of seasons, and relish what this oxymoronic month for whatever surprises it has in store for us. That’s my story, and as always I am interested in hearing yours, your favorite of not so favorite memories of October, at gregawtry@awtry.com.