Happy Halloween everyone!!

 

The Last Ride
by Paul Melniczek

She lifted up her head and peered outside through the frosted window. Wrinkled eyes gazed into the bright sky, and a smile came over the old woman’s face when she saw the full moon, shining away in all it’s harvest glory, a perfect background setting for All Hallow’s Eve.

A loud purring reached her ears as a black cat leaped up on the table next to the rocking chair she was sitting in.

"Yes, my sweets. Isn’t that a pretty night we have in store for us? Old man moon looks down on us with a wink in his eye tonight."

The cat stared at her with deep green eyes, attention fixed on every word.

"You know what this night means, don’t you, Trickster?" The cat let out a soft meow, listening to his master.

"It is the passing of an age, that is what. Many long years, happy memories, but there is an ending to every story, good and bad. Ol’ Madge here has seen it all, yes I have."

The old woman pushed herself up from the chair, one gnarled hand stroking the silken fur of Trickster. There was a creaking noise as old bones cracked within the ancient body, stiff joints groaning in protest at the effort made by her to straighten up.

"Ah, this craggy old girl ain’t what she used to be. Need a dose of the ointment before I go, that’ll fix me for a little while."

Madge walked over towards a large oaken trunk that was filled with an assortment of herbs, spices, animal parts, jarred collections of insects, packaged powders, and numerous other odds and ends. They were the tools of her trade.

Rummaging through the contents, she found a sachet containing some brown colored leaves, and when she opened it a sweet odor wafted outwards.

"Hmm, this will do fine." The crone went over to a wooden cabinet which had vials of liquid scattered about the shelves. She grabbed a tube with a bubbly fluid inside with a purple tinge to it, and then poured the leaves in.

Wispy curls of vapor rose up, and the old woman drank deeply.

A look of revulsion crossed her face at the bitter taste, but she shook it off.

"Not the fountain of youth, but it bestows on me a glimmer of strength, and that is all I need." She smacked her dry lips together, and smiled with glee.

Madge hobbled over to the great stone fireplace that warmed the cottage, and a black cauldron was resting above the burning flames. A green liquid boiled away in a frenzy, fat bubbles oozing from the surface. She stirred the mixture with a metal ladle.

 

"Double, bubble, toil and trouble!"

"Double, bubble, toil and trouble!’

Cackling with delight, the old woman churned the foul broth with renewed vigor. The cauldron hissed in answer, and the brew began to fizzle over.

"Ha ha, that’s it. A ghastly potion for a ghostly night!"

Madge nodded to herself, and the flames danced before her, casting lurid shadows on the walls of the cottage.

The image behind the cat grew in size, reaching the proportions of a great beast which was many times the feline’s actual body shape.

Trickster growled, his dark mane bristling. The master made a gesture in the air, and the front door burst open as the black cat sprang into the night, the transformation beginning to take place. A howl echoed from the woods outside, and Madge shouted in response, the language old and archaic.

"Rejoice in the wild, my pet. The night calls. Until the sun comes up, when you must return."

A gust of wind blasted against the cottage, slamming the door shut with a loud crash. The old woman’s wizened face had a trace of sadness on it, and she let out a deep sigh.

"It is almost time, must make haste."

Madge opened the closet and reached inside, tenderly bringing out a worn garb, black as the night. A tear trickled from the corner of an eye, moistening the callused cheek beneath.

"So many years, where have they all gone? How will I be able to face the next one, knowing that my time is done?"

She pulled the raiment tightly about herself, cherishing the feel of the familiar outfit. The cloak gave her comfort and security.

"Such little time, and too many things to fill it with, ‘tis a pity."

There was an upper shelf inside the closet, and from this she brought out a rumpled black hat, pointed at the top in the shape of a narrow cone.

"Hee hee hee," she chuckled. "A pointed cone for a crooked crone." She set the hat on her head, and brushed back the strands of silver hair that lay tangled down to her shoulders. She began to feel much younger and stronger, but it was only wishful thinking. Potions could give her a teasing of both, but that was it.

Madge crossed to the other side of the room, wooden floor boards creaking underneath her musty black boots. The heels clicked softly with her passing.

A reading desk sat in the corner, and a dusty tome sprawled along the top. Strange words and symbols were etched onto the crinkled pages, the lettering written in blood. She leafed through until she found the proper incantation, then closed the book with a snap.

"Long ago, I could recite nearly every line of verse in half that script. But now....." The old woman shook her head, again being overcome with remorse.

"More’s the pity, old hag, I’ve had my turn. The wheels of time roll on without stopping, and my moment has arrived to step aside. Only fond memories, no regrets."

The old woman’s gaze wandered the trappings of the cottage, her domain for countless years. Yes, fate had treated her well, there was no denial.

"And now, my friend, who has served me so well these many years. Will you answer the summons yet again, on this night of all nights?

Madge spread her arms wide in appeal, pale yellow eyes closed in concentration. The wind picked up outside, and tree branches scratched against the window panes, bent stick arms moving in wooden animation, responding to the surge of dark power that was building within the cottage.

There was a flash of brilliance radiating from a section of stone next to the fireplace, and a secret panel was revealed. From the compartment emerged a long broom, stark in opaque blackness, levitating towards the old woman.

"Ha ha ha, come to me! It is our time again. The sisters await!"

The broom continued floating, and it came within the crone’s eager grasp as it throbbed with power, pulsating with diabolical energy.

Madge held the broom up triumphantly, and opened the front door. A strong breeze was blowing, and fallen leaves covered the mossy earth. Sinister figures crouched within the surrounding shadows, lurking among the trees.

It was Halloween night, and spirits of the nights had awakened in unholy celebration.

Madge sat astride the enchanted broom, and up she flew to meet with her fellow sisters of the coven. This was her last time as the coven leader, and a new one would be sworn in this Hallow’s Eve.

She gazed up at the awaiting sky, spotting others of her wicked brethren. It was Halloween night, and for the last time, into that magical night, rode the form of the witch, on her last moonlight ride.

These are my ghosts I adopted from http://www.geocities.com/EnchantedForest/Dell/7442/

Everything You Ever Wanted To Know About Pumpkins But Were Afraid To Ask...

- Pumpkins are fruits. A pumpkin is a type of squash and is a member of the gourd family (Cucurbitacae), which also includes squash, cucumbers, gherkins, and melons.

- The largest pumpkin pie ever baked was in 2003 and weighed 418 pounds.

- Pumpkins have been grown in North America for five thousand years. They are indigenous to the western hemisphere.

- In 1584, after French explorer Jacques Cartier explored the St. Lawrence region of North America, he reported finding "gros melons." The name was translated into English as "pompions," which has since evolved into the modern "pumpkin."

- Pumpkins are low in calories, fat, and sodium and high in fiber. They are good sources of Vitamin A, Vitamin B, potassium, protein, and iron.

- The largest pumpkin ever grown was 1,337 pounds. It was grown by Charles Houghton of New Boston, New Hampshire.

- Pumpkin seeds should be planted between the last week of May and the middle of June. They take between 90 and 120 days to grow and are picked in October when they are bright orange in color. Their seeds can be saved to grow new pumpkins the next year.

History Of The Jack-O'Lantern

Pumpkin carving is a popular part of modern America's Halloween celebration. Come October, pumpkins can be found everywhere in the country from doorsteps to dinner tables. Despite the widespread carving that goes on in this country every autumn, few Americans really know why or when the jack o'lantern tradition began. Or, for that matter, whether the pumpkin is a fruit or a vegetable. Read on to find out!

People have been making jack o'lanterns at Halloween for centuries. The practice originated from an Irish myth about a man nicknamed "Stingy Jack." According to the story, Stingy Jack invited the Devil to have a drink with him. True to his name, Stingy Jack didn't want to pay for his drink, so he convinced the Devil to turn himself into a coin that Jack could use to buy their drinks. Once the Devil did so, Jack decided to keep the money and put it into his pocket next to a silver cross, which prevented the Devil from changing back into his original form. Jack eventually freed the Devil, under the condition that he would not bother Jack for one year and that, should Jack die, he would not claim his soul. The next year, Jack again tricked the Devil into climbing into a tree to pick a piece of fruit. While he was up in the tree, Jack carved a sign of the cross into the tree's bark so that the Devil could not come down until the Devil promised Jack not to bother him for ten more years.

Soon after, Jack died. As the legend goes, God would not allow such an unsavory figure into heaven. The Devil, upset by the trick Jack had played on him and keeping his word not to claim his soul, would not allow Jack into hell. He sent Jack off into the dark night with only a burning coal to light his way. Jack put the coal into a carved-out turnip and has been roaming the Earth with ever since. The Irish began to refer to this ghostly figure as "Jack of the Lantern," and then, simply "Jack O'Lantern."

In Ireland and Scotland, people began to make their own versions of Jack's lanterns by carving scary faces into turnips or potatoes and placing them into windows or near doors to frighten away Stingy Jack and other wandering evil spirits. In England, large beets are used. Immigrants from these countries brought the jack o'lantern tradition with them when they came to the United States. They soon found that pumpkins, a fruit native to America, make perfect jack o'lanterns.

The American tradition of "trick-or-treating" probably dates back to the early All Souls' Day parades in England. During the festivities, poor citizens would beg for food and families would give them pastries called "soul cakes" in return for their promise to pray for the family's dead relatives.

The distribution of soul cakes was encouraged by the church as a way to replace the ancient practice of leaving food and wine for roaming spirits. The practice, which was referred to as "going a-souling" was eventually taken up by children who would visit the houses in their neighborhood and be given ale, food, and money.

The tradition of dressing in costume for Halloween has both European and Celtic roots. Hundreds of years ago, winter was an uncertain and frightening time. Food supplies often ran low and, for the many people afraid of the dark, the short days of winter were full of constant worry. On Halloween, when it was believed that ghosts came back to the earthly world, people thought that they would encounter ghosts if they left their homes. To avoid being recognized by these ghosts, people would wear masks when they left their homes after dark so that the ghosts would mistake them for fellow spirits. On Halloween, to keep ghosts away from their houses, people would place bowls of food outside their homes to appease the ghosts and prevent them from attempting to enter.

Ancient Origins

Halloween's origins date back to the ancient Celtic festival of Samhain (pronounced sow-in).

                The Celts, who lived 2,000 years ago in the area  that is now Ireland, the United Kingdom, and northern France, celebrated their new year on November 1. This day marked the end of summer and the harvest and the beginning of the dark, cold winter, a time of year that was often associated with human death. Celts believed that on the night before the new year, the boundary between the worlds of the living and the dead became blurred. On the night of October 31, they celebrated Samhain, when it was believed that the ghosts of the dead returned to earth. In addition to causing trouble and damaging crops, Celts thought that the presence of the otherworldly spirits made it easier for the Druids, or Celtic priests, to make predictions about the future. For a people entirely dependent on the volatile natural world, these prophecies were an important source of comfort and direction during the long, dark winter.

To commemorate the event, Druids built huge sacred bonfires, where the people gathered to burn crops and animals as sacrifices to the Celtic deities.

During the celebration, the Celts wore costumes, typically consisting of animal heads and skins, and attempted to tell each other's fortunes. When the celebration was over, they re-lit their hearth fires, which they had extinguished earlier that evening, from the sacred bonfire to help protect them during the coming winter.

By A.D. 43, Romans had conquered the majority of Celtic territory. In the course of the four hundred years that they ruled the Celtic lands, two festivals of Roman origin were combined with the traditional Celtic celebration of Samhain.

The first was Feralia, a day in late October when the Romans traditionally commemorated the passing of the dead. The second was a day to honor Pomona, the Roman goddess of fruit and trees. The symbol of Pomona is the apple and the incorporation of this celebration into Samhain probably explains the tradition of "bobbing" for apples that is practiced today on Halloween.

By the 800s, the influence of Christianity had spread into Celtic lands. In the seventh century, Pope Boniface IV designated November 1 All Saints' Day, a time to honor saints and martyrs. It is widely believed today that the pope was attempting to replace the Celtic festival of the dead with a related, but church-sanctioned holiday. The celebration was also called All-hallows or All-hallowmas (from Middle English Alholowmesse meaning All Saints' Day) and the night before it, the night of Samhain, began to be called All-hallows Eve and, eventually, Halloween. Even later, in A.D. 1000, the church would make November 2 All Souls' Day, a day to honor the dead. It was celebrated similarly to Samhain, with big bonfires, parades, and dressing up in costumes as saints, angels, and devils. Together, the three celebrations, the eve of All Saints', All Saints', and All Souls', were called Hallowmas.

  History and Customs of Halloween

Halloween is an annual celebration, but just what is it actually a celebration of? And how did this peculiar custom originate? Is it, as some claim, a kind of demon worship? Or is it just a harmless vestige of some ancient pagan ritual?

The word itself, "Halloween," actually has its origins in the Catholic Church. It comes from a contracted corruption of All Hallows Eve. November 1, "All Hollows Day" (or "All Saints Day"), is a Catholic day of observance in honor of saints. But, in the 5th century BC, in Celtic Ireland, summer officially ended on October 31. The holiday was called Samhain (sow-en), the Celtic New year.

One story says that, on that day, the disembodied spirits of all those who had died throughout the preceding year would come back in search of living bodies to possess for the next year. It was believed to be their only hope for the afterlife. The Celts believed all laws of space and time were suspended during this time, allowing the spirit world to intermingle with the living.

Naturally, the still-living did not want to be possessed. So on the night of October 31, villagers would extinguish the fires in their homes, to make them cold and undesirable. They would then dress up in all manner of ghoulish costumes and noisily paraded around the neighborhood, being as destructive as possible in order to frighten away spirits looking for bodies to possess.

Probably a better explanation of why the Celts extinguished their fires was not to discourage spirit possession, but so that all the Celtic tribes could relight their fires from a common source, the Druidic fire that was kept burning in the Middle of Ireland, at Usinach.

Some accounts tell of how the Celts would burn someone at the stake who was thought to have already been possessed, as sort of a lesson to the spirits. Other accounts of Celtic history debunk these stories as myth.

The Romans adopted the Celtic practices as their own. But in the first century AD, Samhain was assimilated into celebrations of some of the other Roman traditions that took place in October, such as their day to honor Pomona, the Roman goddess of fruit and trees. The symbol of Pomona is the apple, which might explain the origin of our modern tradition of bobbing for apples on Halloween.

The thrust of the practices also changed over time to become more ritualized. As belief in spirit possession waned, the practice of dressing up like hobgoblins, ghosts, and witches took on a more ceremonial role.

The custom of Halloween was brought to America in the 1840's by Irish immigrants fleeing their country's potato famine. At that time, the favorite pranks in New England included tipping over outhouses and unhinging fence gates.

The custom of trick-or-treating is thought to have originated not with the Irish Celts, but with a ninth-century European custom called souling. On November 2, All Souls Day, early Christians would walk from village to village begging for "soul cakes," made out of square pieces of bread with currants. The more soul cakes the beggars would receive, the more prayers they would promise to say on behalf of the dead relatives of the donors. At the time, it was believed that the dead remained in limbo for a time after death, and that prayer, even by strangers, could expedite a soul's passage to heaven.

The Jack-o-lantern custom probably comes from Irish folklore. As the tale is told, a man named Jack, who was notorious as a drunkard and trickster, tricked Satan into climbing a tree. Jack then carved an image of a cross in the tree's trunk, trapping the devil up the tree. Jack made a deal with the devil that, if he would never tempt him again, he would promise to let him down the tree.

According to the folk tale, after Jack died, he was denied entrance to Heaven because of his evil ways, but he was also denied access to Hell because he had tricked the devil. Instead, the devil gave him a single ember to light his way through the frigid darkness. The ember was placed inside a hollowed-out turnip to keep it glowing longer.

The Irish used turnips as their "Jack's lanterns" originally. But when the immigrants came to America, they found that pumpkins were far more plentiful than turnips. So the Jack-O-Lantern in America was a hollowed-out pumpkin, lit with an ember.

So, although some cults may have adopted Halloween as their favorite "holiday," the day itself did not grow out of evil practices. It grew out of the rituals of Celts celebrating a new year, and out of Medieval prayer rituals of Europeans. And today, even many churches have Halloween parties or pumpkin carving events for the kids. After all, the day itself is only as evil as one cares to make it.

 

Sarracenia purpurea

You may know it as the pitcher plant.

Found not only on bogs and barrens,

but also on coins.

And park permits.

And,strangely,in our own hearts.

Because who can't help but smile at

something that lives on a rock,

where nothing else grows?

And holds its little head up high,

in fair weather and foul?

Who can't help but smile,and marvel,

at that?

The Pitcher Plant.

A perfect symbol af all that we are.

It's more that just an adaptable little

plant that's hardy and wily enough

to survive here.

It's a symbol,one the world has come

to know us by.

It's a little unusual.A little quirky.

It's found all across Newfoundland

and Labrador.

And it keeps on growing,and thriving.

No matter what nature sends its way.

Doesn't that sound familiar?

Doesn't that sound a lot like us?

The Pitcher Plant.

A perfect symbol of all that we are.

They grow.

They grow,almost in spite of nature.

In ones,and twos,and threes.

Spread out among the rocks,and crags,

and barrens.

Inland and oceanside,they grow.

And nothing can shake them loose,

from whatever spot the choose

to call home.

Isn't it strange,and wonderful,

how very like them we are?

The Pitcher Plant.

A perfect symbol of all that we are.

 

Is there a better symbol to represent us,

to show the world who we are,

than this determined little plant?

It adapts to anything.

It holds itself up proud,in sun and storm.

And its roots go deep into the rock it

calls home.

Generations more will do the same.

The pitcher Plant.

A perfect symbol to show the world

just who we are.

 

 Terrie

 

LMAO!!

 

LMAO!!

 

LMAO!!

 

Men strike back! ! ! ! ! ! !
How many men does it take to open a beer?
None. It should be opened when she brings it
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Why is a Laundromat a really bad place to pick up a woman?
Because a woman who can't even afford a washing machine will probably never be able to support you.
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Why do women have smaller feet than men?
It's one of those "evolutionary things" that allows
them to stand closer to the kitchen sink.
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How do you know when a woman is about to say something smart?
When she starts a sentence with "A man once told me..."
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How do you fix a woman's watch?
You don't. There is a clock on the oven.
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Why do men fart more than women?
Because women can't shut up long enough to
build up the required pressure.
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If your dog is barking at the back door and your wife is yelling at the front door, who do you let in first?
The dog, of course. He'll shut up once you let him in.
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What's worse than a Male Chauvinist Pig?
A woman who won't do what she's told
-------------------------------------------------------------------
I married a Miss Right.
I just didn't know her first name was Always.
-------------------------------------------------------------------
Scientists have discovered a food that diminishes
a woman's sex drive by 90%.
It's called a Wedding Cake.
-------------------------------------------------------------------
Why do men die before their wives?
They want to.
-------------------------------------------------------------------
Women will never be equal to men until they can
walk down the street with a bald head and a beer
gut, and still think they are sexy.
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In the beginning, God created the earth and rested.
Then God created Man and rested.
Then God created Woman.
Since then, neither God nor Man has rested.
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Send this to a few good men who need a laugh and
to the select few women who can handle the truth !

 

 

 

 

A businessman enters a tavern, sits down at the bar, and orders a double martini on the rocks.

After he finishes the drink, he peeks inside his shirt pocket, then orders the bartender to prepare

 another double martini. After he finishes that it, he again peeks inside his shirt pocket and orders

the bartender to bring another double martini. The bartender says, "Look, buddy, I'll bring ya' martinis

all night long - but you gotta tell me why you look inside your shirt pocket before you order a refill."

The customer replies, "I'm peeking at a photo of my wife. When she starts to look good, I know it's time to go home."

 

LOL!!

 

 

LMAO!!

 

 

LMAO!!!

A gas station in Halifax was trying to increase it's sales.

 So the owner put up a sign saying "Free Sex With Fill-Up."

Soon a Newfie pulls in, fills his tank, and then asks for his free sex.

The gas attendent tells him pick to a number from 1 to 10 if he guesses

correctly, he will get his free sex.

The Newfie says, "8, b'y"

The gas attendent says, "You were close, sir, but the number

was 7. Sorry, no sex this time."

A week later, the same Newfie, along with his buddy, pulls in for

 a fill up. Again he asks for his free sex and again the gas attendent

gives him the same story and asks him to guess the correct number.

The Newfie says, "4, b'y"

The gas attendent says, "Sorry,it was 3. You were close,

 but no free sex this time."

As they were driving away, the Newfie says to his buddy,

"I think that game is rigged and he doesn't really give away free sex."

The buddy replies,"No, b'y, it ain't rigged. My wife won twice last week."

 

LMAO!! 

 

 

 

 

THIS IS TOO SWEET FOR WORDS!!!

    A six-year-old boy told his father he wanted to marry the little girl across the street. The father, being modern and well-schooled in handling children, hid his smile behind his hand.

"That's a serious step," he said. "Have you thought it out completely?"

"Yes," his young son answered. "We can spend one week in my room and the next in hers. It's right across the street, so I can run home if I get
scared of the dark."

"How about transportation?" the father asked.

"I have my wagon, and we both have our tricycles," the l ittle boy answered.
The boy had an answer to every question the father raised.

Finally, in exasperation, his dad asked, "What about babies? When you're
married, you're liable to have babies, you know."

"We've thought about that, too," the little boy replied. "We're not going to have babies. Every time she lays an egg, I'm going to step on it!"

 

LOL!!2 cute