Halloween, again

 

A ghost, a chandelier, and a creepy watching figure in the crook of the tree show Halloween is still alive and well in this household.

Go big or not at all seems to be the attitude toward Halloween this year, our second go-round with this festivity during the never-ending pandemic.

Last year, the media was full of stories about safe ways to give out treats – dangle them on sticks from the top of your stairs; shoot them down toward the kiddies through a pipe attached to your stair banister. Noticeably fewer houses were decked out for Halloween 2020; after years of mounting enthusiasm, the celebration was flattened by Covid.

This year, it seems many householders have bowed out of the Halloween business altogether. During a walk today, I saw whole blocks without even a doorstep pumpkin. But in some areas – probably those with more kids – decorations were more lavish than ever. Ghosts and skeletons were ubiquitous, but there were also gyrating mechanical monsters, fake fog, firepits ablaze, creepy noises and cackling voices, and a whole family of scary creatures gathered in one front yard.

Even before the sun went down, I spotted a fully made-up witch walking her dog, twin toddlers in matching full-skirted purple dresses and witches’ hats, and groups of costumed parents and children gathering around outdoor treat stands. Halloween may have suffered a crisis, but I suspect it is not dead yet.

Along with the elaborate decorations I noticed this year, there were also very simple ones. A string of pumpkin lights in this shrub will turn it into something interesting in the dark.

Ghosts hanging in a garage door are another simple way of declaring Halloween.

Another view of the earlier ghost dangling over the sidewalk, with a dark-shrouded figure of who knows what providing a counterpoint. 

A crowded front yard of Halloween figures prove that more is more when it comes to celebrating this holiday.

The family, gathered to await the evening's trick or treaters. 

Thanksgiving 2021

Covid is keeping us from celebrating Thanksgiving over a dinner table, but my sister Betty and I can still walk in the woods. Here we are in North Vancouver during a late-afternoon family walk. Photo by John Denniston. 

During our walk, we came across an outdoor pen of guinea pigs, much to the delight of Betty's one-year-old grand-daughter Mia. A handful of dandelion leaves was worth a half-hour of enjoyment. Photo by John Denniston. 

A ferry ride away, my brother Brian was enjoying the sunshine on our Saltspring Island deck. 

 “Together apart” has been the Covid-19 motto for the past 18 months, and for us, it fit this year’s Thanksgiving perfectly.

My sister Betty and her husband Bert were in town from Quebec, helping their son and daughter-in-law transition their two kids into school and daycare. My brother Brian and his wife Wendy were driving through from Alberta, on their way to spending some time on Vancouver Island.

But did we gather the clan and have a big sit-down Thanksgiving dinner with the reunited siblings and Betty’s son and family? We did not.

Medical issues mean we’ve had to stay strict about Covid protocols, so our sibling reunion was masked and brief, one evening at an AirBnB. Then Brian and Wendy headed off to Saltspring to spend Thanksgiving at our cottage.  Betty and Bert and their son’s family had Thanksgiving dinner together; instead of joining them, John and I dropped by later for an afternoon walk.

But this happened too: Wendy sent us greetings and a photo of Brian enjoying the  sunshine on our island deck. John and I got to walk in the woods with Betty and Bert and catch up with their son Etienne and his wife Aya. We caught our first glimpse of six-year-old Emi and one-year-old Mia being sisters together. During our walk, we met a friendly cat and guinea pigs in an outdoor pen who needed to be fed dandelion leaves. And when we left, Aya handed us containers filled with the turkey dinners we hadn’t been able to share with the family.

Together apart indeed.

My niece Aya shared the bounty of her Thanksgiving table with these very generous take-home portions. We'll be celebrating Thanksgiving for a few days to come!

Family visits

This is how we visit now: Outdoors and safely apart,  we had coffee with my brother-in-law Bert and my sister Betty three weeks after they arrived in Vancouver from Quebec. Betty is showing a photo of her one-year-old granddaughter Mia, whom they met for the first time when they landed. Mia immediately decided Bert was "the one," but has now accepted grandma too. Photo by John Denniston.

 Once upon a time, visits from far-off relatives meant a cooking/cleaning frenzy. You wanted to feed them something special, and you didn’t want them noticing the grime in the bathtub.

During COVID, it means calculating risks. Who have they seen? How have they travelled? Have they been here long enough to be decontaminated? Do we dare a visit indoors? Wear masks? Hug?  

It doesn’t seem very welcoming, but it makes life easier. Forget the fancy dishes – a lengthy indoor meal is an unthinkable luxury. And guests’ brief darts into your bathroom require only a surface shine.

My sister Betty and her husband Bert have been visiting from Quebec since Sept. 7, helping their son and daughter-in-law transition their young children into school and childcare. Due to colds and concern over their potential exposure, we didn’t see them until Oct. 1. We did air hugs, then sat in the sunshine in their son’s North Vancouver garden. Face to face, the lack of frills, fuss and frenzy didn’t matter. It was enough.