Pumpkin Magic

This fall I decided to deploy an extra weapon in my fight against the seasonal blues: witchcraft. One carved pumpkin to represent the state of mind I am trying to banish and a second pumpkin to represent the feeling I am seeking to achieve. One angry pumpkin, one happy pumpkin.

I sketched the faces, and my husband and I spent a couple of enjoyable hours on a Saturday afternoon carving them. I felt particularly pleased with these pumpkins – not only was the exercise therapeutic, but we avoided the waste typically associated with pumpkin carving. We toasted the pumpkin seeds and made a delicious sweet-and-sour pumpkin concoction with the cutout flesh.

But nature always has the last laugh with the gardener. The happy pumpkin contracted a case of mold that blackened its eye, though it’s still smiling bravely through a collapsing smile. Meanwhile, the angry pumpkin remains in perfect health. So, as an American citizen, I am exercising my right to be inconsistent in my religious faith. I have withdrawn my belief in black magic.