Halloween Town: Dia de los Muertos

Despite early settlers attempts to “civilize” the natives with Christian tradition, Dia de los Muertos—or Day of the Dead—is still one of the most widely celebrated holidays in all of Mexico. And in the Valley of the Sun, too, so it would seem.

Although Dia de los Muertos is closely associated with Halloween, the holidays have very little in common, beyond the feasting and the partying. Dia de los Muertos officially occurs not on October 31, but on November 2, in connection with the Catholic All Saints’ Day (November 1) and All Souls’ Day (November 2).

It’s all about honoring your ancestors. People don wooden skull masks (“calacas”) and dance around. They build full altars to the dead, meant to remember and pay homage to those gone—a good idea, especially since many ancient celebrators of the Day of the Dead believe spirits come back to visit the living on this hallowed day.

Dia de los Muertos is also about visiting cemeteries—in effect, visiting your dead relatives—and decorating their graves with flowers and candles. One source suggested bringing a bottle of tequila to leave behind for the dead. (Do you think old Aunt Myrtle would mind if I took a tiny sip?) It’s an all-day thing. You sit on a blanket, have a kind of picnic, and eat your dead relative’s favorite dish.

Maybe you think this is morbid, but look at it from the perspective of native Mexican people. To them, death was not the end of life; it was a continuation of life. Instead of fearing death, they embraced it. To them, life was a dream and only in death did they become truly awake. When you look at it that way, you can see how this event turns into a big party by the end of the day!

Since we’re so close to Mexico here in AZ, there are countless Dia de los Muertos celebrations going on in the Valley of the Sun. Here’s a mere smattering:

Dia de los Muertos. Mesa Arts Center, Mesa, AZ. October 30–31. “Join the arts center for its fourth annual Dia de los Muertos Festival, Saturday and Sunday.? Mesa Arts Center ignites in a celebration of departed loved ones in the traditional manner?observed for centuries in towns across Mexico.? The Mercado features vibrant colors, an assortment of traditional and contemporary merchandise, jewelry, Mexican arts & crafts, and more from local artisans and vendors.? Live entertainment, food, family, and fun will be abundant!”Dia de los Muertos. Desert Botanical Garden, Phoenix, AZ. October 30–31. “Come to the Garden for Day of the Dead, or Día de los Muertos, a colorful tradition that honors and celebrates departed loved ones in a festival setting. Enjoy entertainment that will bring the history of the holiday to life with song, dance, and storytelling. Festivities culminate with La Procesión. Experience the Desert Botanical Garden’s interactive altar honoring Día de los Muertos. Delicious Mexican food, pastries, and beautiful Mexican art will be available for purchase in the Gardens Mercado.”

I’m not suggesting you obsess over dead people for the day. But—especially if you live in the valley—you should definitely take a look into the famous celebration of the country downstairs. And why not? There’s gonna be good food, cool masks, and creepy altars. What’s not to like? And it never hurts to commune with your dead relatives and friends. Let’s face it: we miss them. So in memory of Papa Dobie, Grandma Dobie, Uncle Barney, Christa, and Simon the Cat, I’ll see you this weekend for Dia de los Muertos.

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A Writers Conference aka Freak Fest

September 28, 2010 by saradobie

I attended a writers’ conference last weekend with some hesitation. I’d been to one before, and I remember it being painful. Truly—I was wincing for days afterward. That said, I realize their value, which was why I agreed to sign up for this past weekend’s event. The importance is not necessarily in the workshops, but in the agent pitches and networking. For now, I’d like to point out some of my general observations. And if you’re easily offended, well, I’d stop reading now.

1. Beware the Freaks.
The very first morning, I left my hotel room and headed to the conference hall. I’d done normal things that morning: shower, brush my teeth, put on makeup. I wasn’t wearing a lacy bustier or fish nets, and yet as soon as I walked into the conference hall, I realized I should have worn a fake wedding ring. I texted Jake (who was still snoozing in our hotel room), and he offered to come down with a big stick. It was not because I looked like a supermodel; it was because I was a woman under the age of 40. And the dudes who hit on me? FREAKS. These were men who have possibly never kissed a girl, let alone “dated.” These were men who possibly still live in their mothers’ basements—men who would turn around in their seats and stare at me in the middle of workshops until I wanted to scream, “What the hell is the matter with you?! Go lick your Princess Leia doll!”

2. Writers CAN talk.
The stereotypical writer is the quiet introvert who spends hours of every day curled over a computer in a dark room, sipping warm whiskey and generally being lonely. But the stereotype is changing. As I discovered in my own Ignite Phoenix Presentation, it is possible (and necessary) for writers to speak in public—and a number of them are quite good at it. I was impressed this weekend. There was the funny, fast-talking, bestselling-author from Cincinnati, who told me to never give away the ending. There was the neurosurgeon/author who reminded me there’s very little difference between writers and schizophrenics. And there was the ex-green beret, who’s written ROMANCE; he said the only person holding me back is … me. Each of these speakers? Writers first. Yet, they knew how to talk, and they weren’t quaking in their boots, fingers tapping on imaginary keyboards. Writers can speak, so if you’re a writer, better get over that dark, brooding Edgar Allen Poe complex.

3. I’m certifiable.
I’m a certifiable nutcase. If you’re nodding, stop it. You don’t even know what I’m talking about. I’m a certifiable nutcase because … I’m a writer. Hunter S. Thompson once said, “If you’re going to be crazy, you have to get paid for it or else you’re going to be locked up.” Thank God I’m a professional writer, or I’d probably be looking for a nice pair of white shoes to match my straight jacket. Several of the presenters this weekend made this point. Writers are mad. Much like actors and musicians (of which I’ve been both in the past), we’ve chosen impossible careers that promise little to no success. And we love every minute of it. Maybe that’s why we go to these writers’ conferences—to know we’re not alone.

4. Finally, ENLIGHTENMENT.
For years, I’ve wondered why I win so few writing contests. The wondering has eventually upset me. Jake has seen it, and he’s wonderful at saying, “Screw them. They just don’t get it.” To this, I nod and smile, but I never really believed him until this past weekend. During the application process for this writers’ conference, there was an option to write a scholarship essay. Well, I wrote an essay, and I didn’t hold back. I wrote as me—brash, cruel, and honest. They prepared to announce the winner the first morning at breakfast. Before doing so, the announcer said, “We’d like to thank our judge,” and he pointed to an eighty-seven-year-old woman who could barely raise her hand to wave. I realized, immediately and with no hesitation, that I had lost the scholarship essay contest. Now, I do think it’s stupid to have a single judge for any writing contest, because writing is too subjective. I also think no woman in her eighties will ever want to read any of my books. Okay, my grandma will, but other than that, most eighty-year-old women will think I’m a violent psychopath. BUT the initial anger at yet another failed writing contest entry led to something else: enlightenment. I realized my writing is not for mass consumption. My books are not, and never will be, “beach reads.” Most of my work is just “weird,” or as my author friend calls it, “creepy.” And for perhaps the first time in my life, I realized I’m okay with losing writing contests. I now understand what Jake means when he says, “They just don’t get it,” and how pleasant to be reminded that I’m writing what I like to write—not what other people expect me to write. Jake’s mom once said, “But you’re so sweet! Why don’t you write something sweet?” I guess I can now admit I don’t have the faintest idea how.

So okay, I’m taking a long writers’ conference vacation. The experience generally stresses me out, and no matter how pleasant some people seem, I do get tired of talking to strangers. I did pitch my current project to an agent I greatly admire, and yes, she wants to see it when it’s finished. I did have several small epiphanies about my current project, and I have decided to consider the creative writing grad program at ASU. Good things did happen. But in conclusion, I’m glad to be home … curled over my computer … required to speak to no one.?

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This is Halloween

There are people who love Christmas. They decorate their houses the day after Thanksgiving, and they play cheerful Rat Pack carols all month. Well, I’m not one of those people. I love Halloween. I already have black nail polish on my fingertips, and I’ve added about a dozen horror movies to my Netflix queue.

Have you seen Tim Burton’s The Nightmare Before Christmas? It begins with a swooping camera dive past a sign that says “Halloween Town.” In Halloween Town, everything is dark and spooky. There are witches, vampires, werewolves, and most importantly, Jack, the Pumpkin King. There are ghouls in kids’ closets, and the sun never shines. It’s always gray, and even the street musicians are waiting to freak you out.

This is where I want to live.

Don’t think I’m morbid, okay? I don’t literally want to be a ghost or a blood-sucking albino. But I love Halloween time—most notably, Halloween time in Ohio. In Ohio at Halloween time, the weather starts to change. The summer air turns cold and crisp. The green leaves begin to turn orange and red, and it rains every day. There’s this smell up north, like clove cigarettes and wet moss, and I’ve missed that smell, ever since heading south, to warmer climates.

I also love being scared—horror movies, haunted houses, walks in pitch black cemeteries at midnight. These are things I used to do often, especially as a student at Ohio University in Athens, Ohio—widely considered one of the most haunted places in the US. (Don’t believe me? See episode of Scariest Places on Earth, Part 1 and Part 2. And, trust me, watch at your own risk.)

So what happened to the spook in me? I guess I got busy and important, and what a stupid excuse for missing out on my favorite month of the year, blessed October.

While wallowing in the horrendously dull summer heat of Arizona, I realized I was not going to miss my favorite month this year. I would not allow October to fly by, to be left wondering, what happened to Halloween? No, my freaky friends, I’ve decided to dedicate the entire month of October to … Halloween Town.

Over the next month, we will meet a Wiccan priestess, voyage through a Glendale pumpkin patch, visit the walking dead at a haunted house in Surprise, and finally, relive the glory of Halloween at OU. There will be plenty more, too, but you’ll just have to wait and see.

Since it’s October 1st today, I officially declare it time to eat, drink, and be scary. It’s time to decorate our houses with orange and purple lights. It’s time to stick our arms, elbow deep, into the slimy pit of a pumpkin and cower in fear as Jamie Lee Curtis dares to ask “Is somebody out there?” And it’s time to figure out what the heck I’m going to wear for my costume to the Haunted Hotel Ball in Scottsdale a month from now.

Get ready for Halloween. Your dreams are about to become nightmares. Oh, and don’t worry about the sound of footsteps behind you in that dark alley. By the time you see who’s following you, it’ll be too late.
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Halloween Town: Movies that Get Me in the Mood

There is a huge list of movies that get me in the mood … for Halloween. (What did you think I was talking about?) Ranging from Stephen King’s The Shining to John Carpenter’s Halloween, I spend half the month in front of my television, scaring myself to death. But there are three movies—just three—that really get me going. It’s not because they’re scary; it’s because they remind me of specific Halloweens past. It’s also because each film invokes a feeling of oogie-boogies, and each film looks like Halloween does in my imagination (which includes Tim Curry in drag, of course).

Halloween Film #1: The Nightmare Before Christmas
I already mentioned this film in my Halloween Town intro, because it just looks the part. In the film, Jack Skellington, the pumpkin king of Halloween Town, is bored with doing the same thing every year for Halloween. One day he stumbles into Christmas Town and is so taken with the idea of Christmas that he tries to get the resident bats, ghouls, and goblins of Halloween Town to help him put on Christmas instead of Halloween—alas, they can’t get it quite right.

Director by Henry Selick (Coraline, James and the Giant Peach), Tim Burton’s story and characters come to life in this one. It’s another stop-motion animation films that’s not necessarily for kids, and the music is killer for pumping through your speakers for trick-or-treaters Halloween night. As I’ve mentioned before, I want to live in the world of The Nightmare Before Christmas, so if you’re ready to jump feet-first into the Halloween spirit, check out the opening scene on YouTube.

Halloween Film #2: Sleepy Hollow
I’m talking about the Johnny Depp version, and I don’t care if you thought it was a badly written film. No matter what you think of the acting, it’s a gorgeous film to watch. Again, Tim Burton was involved, as director this time. Ichabod Crane (Depp) is sent to Sleepy Hollow to investigate the decapitations of three people, the supposed culprit being the legendary apparition, the Headless Horseman.

Burton gives you everything you want: fog, glowing pumpkin heads, witches, ghosts, and Depp, looking super sexy as the stereotypically nerdy Crane. Christopher Walken even plays the Headless Horseman! Christopher Walken! Who’s creepier than that dude? Again, Sleepy Hollow depicts a world where I would happily live. I’ve always been interested in Wicca (my interview with a Wiccan priestess will run next week), and I love ghost stories. I find crisp days with an overhead of dark clouds and an underfoot of dead leaves terribly comforting. Don’t get it? Watch the trailer. You’ll understand what I’m talking about.

Halloween Film #3: Rocky Horror Picture Show
Don’t groan at me. I don’t care if you think this film is awful, campy, decadent, whatever. I love this movie, and of all the movies I love, this is one that brings back the most memories. Who’s been to a Rocky Horror midnight show? Who? Don’t tell me I’m the only freak out there. Don’t tell me you haven’t shown up to your local indie theater wearing nothing but underwear. Come on, be honest. I always fancied myself a Magenta.

That's me on the right.

I love when people ask me what this movie is about. It’s about Tim Curry in drag, having lots of sex and booze on a spooky night in a spooky castle in the 1970s. The more official synopsis: ?Newlywed couple, Brad (Barry Bostwick) and Janet (Susan Sarandon, who was fabulously hot back then, by the way), encounter a problem when their car breaks down in the rain. They seek assistance at the castle of Dr. Frank-N-Furter (Curry), a transvestite. Overnight accommodations are provided, but will Brad and Janet want to stay the night in the spooky old castle? Especially when a large group of Transylvanians dance to the “Time Warp,” and Dr. Frank-N-Furter builds a studly “monster” for his own gratification.

Back in the day, I used to rock out to every song with my spooky group of friends. We all had black hair, black nails (which I still wear), and Newport cigarettes. We’d sneak out to the Clazel Theater in Bowling Green, Ohio, for the midnight show, and oh, what rapture to be a freak amidst freaks! I watch Rocky Horror Picture Show approximately five times during the month of October. For your consideration, here’s Tim Curry’s rendition of “Sweet Transvestite.” Guess there’s still some freak in me, after all.

What’s YOUR Halloween movie of choice?

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Halloween Town: My Personal Haunted House

I’ve been buying Halloween decorations for weeks, hoarding them in our hall closet. Finally, Wednesday, I allowed myself to hang ‘em up. All of them. When Jake came home, he said our house looked creepy. That is exactly what I wanted to hear.

I’ve always enjoyed going to man-made, seasonal haunted houses. Sure, they cost a fortune (usually about ten bucks a head for a fear fest that lasts about ten minutes). Regardless, I can’t help but check them out, because the man-made haunted houses do make me feel like I’m living in a horror movie.

I also love the real, honest to goodness haunted houses, though. In college, overlooking the city of Athens, Ohio, was an abandoned insane asylum. It was said to be filled with spirits up there—children, adults, and gnarly old ladies. We would sneak up there late at night, and scare the crap out of ourselves. I loved that adrenaline, and I swear, it always felt like someone really was hiding in the shadows.

Both of these ghostly entities—the man-made and the real—have perhaps molded my Halloween house adornments. There are a precious few things I find to be necessary for interior decoration at Halloween time, so I submit the top five MUST-HAVE items to freak out your friends and neighbors.

1. We’ll call them “Halloween lights.” They’re the same as Christmas lights, but they’re usually purple or orange. The purple ones especially give your house an Elvira’s boudoir feel. They’re sexy and spooky, and it’s so much fun to turn off all the lights in the house—except the purple ones—and watch The Candyman or something equally jump-worthy. I’ve only recently discovered the color-changing LED lights. They’re pretty cool, too, especially if they’re in shapes like, say, little skulls or pumpkins.

2. Candles. I prefer glass votive holders in the shades of red, orange, or again, purple. No matter what color the votive inside, they give off an eerie glow, as if even your candles are expecting some fanged monster to come creeping from your back closet. And don’t forget the smell. Grab a nice pumpkin one from Yankee Candle. (Midsummer’s Night is good, too.) Despite the heat outside, the smell makes me think of Midwestern fall and the way weather should be on October 31.

3. Pumpkins. As adults, we forget about pumpkins. We forget how exciting it used to be as kids, carving away, covered in orange slime, creating little monsters of our own. (I was reminded in Charleston, where Poe’s Tavern on Sullivan’s Island has a pumpkin carving contest every year. Alas, where do people carve their pumpkins in PHX?) You don’t have to get real ones, if you’re a clean freak. Just get a fake one with a light in the center. It looks great, especially if you switch the usual white bulb with orange or red. And oh, how festive!

He's laughing at you.

4. Something that scares you. My aunt bought Jake and me this Tim Burton-esque doll that stands in the center of our kitchen table. When you touch the table, he laughs at you. He stands for what Halloween is all about. Ghouly noises. Creepy laughter echoing down a dark alley. Gives me the heebie-geebies, and don’t forget the fun in not warning your friends about him when they come over.

5. Something that makes your neighbors think you might be a witch. You don’t want your neighbors to like you too much, do you? Halloween is the perfect opportunity to hang some huge ghost critter with red eyes from your front door. The neighborhood kids will probably love it, but that neighbor who always stops by when you’re watching your favorite episode of Dexter will probably hesitate before asking to borrow some sugar.

What do you do for decoration? And don’t tell me you don’t decorate. Halloween is one of the only times of year when the whole bunch of us boring, stressed-out adults can get away with acting like children. Oh, and never overlook the decorations on your own body. I’ll be rocking black fingernails and orange toenails all month long.

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Halloween Town: Oktoberfest and Fall Brew

As I’ve previously stated, I love the spookiness of Halloween. I love the horror movies and the pumpkins, but there is one thing I forgot to mention in my Halloween Town intro, and that something … is beer. A couple weeks ago, Jake and I were among the lucky ducks who attended the Total Wine Fall Seasonal Beer Tour, and we learned way more than just how to drink.

I’ve known about Germany’s Oktoberfest for years, because my Uncle Barney used to attend whenever he could. He told stories about beers mugs the size of American beer guts, and since he spoke German, he used to come back with friends who promised to save a seat for him the following year. At Total Wine, I learned a bit more. I learned the German Oktoberfest plays host to six million people every year. It’s been going on since 1810, and it goes on for sixteen days! That’s a lot of beer! The beer is served in one-liter mugs, and beer maids must be able to carry 10 of these at a time! ACK!

Speaking of beer … how do you taste it? No, you don’t use a beer bong. It’s a process, okay, much like drinking wine. In fact, it’s exactly like tasting wine. First, look at the appearance. Is it orange or red? Is it hazy or clear? What do you see? Next, smell it. Does it smell sweet? How about earthy? Or is it skunked? Check it out! Stick your nose right in there! Now, take a sip. Is it hoppy? Does it have a floral palate? Or is the alcohol burning your throat? Finally, mouth feel. Is it creamy? Light? A long or short finish?

See, there’s a ton of stuff that goes into this! That is, unless you drink some crap beer, like Bud Lite. If you’re drinking Bud Lite, stop it. It’s time to try something new. So here are some suggestions from the Total Wine beer tasting:

1. Spaten Original Oktoberfest, Germany
Spaten is the oldest brewery in Germany, and this was my favorite authentic Oktoberfest at the tasting. It’s got an alcohol contest of about 5.8 % (most American beers are at about 4.3). It was copper in color, floral in aroma, and perfumy on the palate. The mouth feel was light and refreshing with a clean finish. It’s considered a “textbook Oktoberfest,” and it’s easy to drink … possibly in large quantities. Buy it. Today. Lots of it.

2. Abita Brewing Company Fall Fest, Louisiana
This is a domestic interpretation of the German Oktoberfest beer. Abita is down in Louisiana, and I know them best for their Purple Haze brew (made with real raspberries). They’re donation-heavy, meaning that whenever there’s a problem in the gulf (aka Katrina or the oil spill), they create a special brew, the proceeds of which go to the survivors. This Fall Fest didn’t have much going on. It was earthy and bitter with a light mouthfeel. It would be an easy starter beer for the fall season, especially if this is your first foray outside the Bud Lite territory.

3. Avery’s Kaiser Imperial Octoberfest, Colorado
This monster of a beer has an alcohol content of about 10% (if you haven’t been paying attention, that’s a lot). It has an EPIC aroma—bitter and sweet with an edge of Worcestershire sauce. It’s bitter and creamy on the palate and has an everlasting finish. If you want to spend a couple hours drinking a single beer, this is the way to go.

4. Odell Brewing Company’s Woodcut #4, Colorado
A single bottle of this costs about twenty bucks, so if that seems excessive, stop reading … because this beer stole the dang show (and yes, we bought some). This guy was aged in oak, and it features a champagne cork. It is an extreme beer, at 11% alcohol. Just like wine, this is capable of aging for several years, and it’ll only get better. The aroma was herbal, with a touch of dill and heavy cedar notes. If there had been a way to drink the aroma, I would have. On the palate, it felt like a Cabernet—velvety vanilla, heavy oak, and a round finish. This is one of the best beers I’ve ever tasted, maybe because I love wine, and this beer drank like a wine. As I said, it’s over twenty bucks a bottle, but the bottles are big. Not big enough, though, considering I could drink the Woodcut #4 all night long.

All of these yummy beers are available at Total Wine. I’m telling you, Halloween time means October beer. It may be hot outside, but I swear, drinking Oktoberfest makes me believe it really is autumn somewhere.

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Halloween Town: Slimy Innards

In a quiet, dark room, lit only by yellow candlelight, your fingers close around the knife handle. You’re terrified. It’s been a year since you’ve plunged a sharp knife into such thick, dry skin, and yet, as you near your victim, the sensation feels familiar. Your confidence grows, because you’ve done this before.

You chop off the head. You reach inside the carcass. In up to your elbow, you grasp the slimy innards and pull—pull—pull until the stomach contents are strewn about your kitchen table. Then, you carve a face into the monster, and it looks back at you, eyes ablaze, open mouth screaming in silence.

I’m talking about pumpkin carving. Obviously.

A little history about our so-called “Jack O’Lanterns.” The original story comes from Ireland. There was this town drunk, known as Stingy Jack. He liked to play tricks and cause general mischief, until one day, he played a trick on the Devil. Big mistake, dude, but because of his trick, Jack made the Devil promise never to take his soul. Eventually, Stingy Jack died. When he went to Heaven, St. Peter told him he wasn’t a good enough person to enter the pearly gates. So Jack went down to Hell, but the Devil refused to take his soul because of the promise he had once made.

On his way out of Hell, the Devil tossed Stingy Jack an ember to light his eternity on earth. Jack put the ember in a hollowed-out turnip, destined to wander the earth, alone and forlorn, forever. So to this day, on All Hallow’s Eve (Halloween) in Ireland, people carve vegetables and place candles inside to keep Stingy Jack away. In the 1800s, Irish immigrants brought the tradition to America, where they discovered pumpkins, which were much bigger and easier to carve. Hence the Jack O’Lantern.

Me and Jake's pumpkin! Spooky!

I will freely admit that I’m terrible at pumpkin carving. I do it because it’s fun, not because I think I’m good at it. As I’ve mentioned before, on Sullivan’s Island in South Carolina, there is an annual pumpkin carving contest at Poe’s Tavern (named for spook king, Edgar Allan Poe, who served at Fort Moultrie on the island). I would go to Poe’s with two of my gal pals, Becky and Mary, who had grown up on Sullivan’s. They would usually win the contest, which meant our bar tab was paid for.

And no, I didn’t just go because my bar tab ended up FREE. I went because it was marvelous to see other people’s pumpkin skills. Mary and Becky were among the best. But by the end of the night, there were dozens of close contenders, all lined up and glowing on the entrance steps to the tavern.

There’s just something eerie about Jack O’Lanterns, especially if you think about the Irish folklore. I do love the process, but I more so love the end result: the orange, glowing monster on my kitchen table, protecting my house from evil spirits and Stingy Jack. Don’t you love the way the pumpkin smiles its secret smile? Don’t you love the way the pumpkin smells with the candle slowly roasting inside? Don’t you freakin’ love Halloween?

Our time together in Halloween Town has almost come to an end. Only one more post in this glorious month of revelry, folklore, and honoring the dead. I hope you’ve enjoyed the ride. And don’t forget to light your Jack O’Lantern, or Stingy Jack might pay you a visit on All Hallow’s Eve.

One of Mary's pumpkins. Amazing.

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Halloween Town: To the Pumpkin Patch We Go

It's the Pumpkin King, Charlie Brown!

In search of the perfect pumpkin, Jake and I set off yesterday to visit the Tolmachoff Farms Corn Maze and Pumpkin Patch in Glendale. Generally, it was a good experience, but allow me one moment of all-out angry Midwestern behavior.

It was 100 degrees yesterday. In the middle of October. While shopping for Halloween pumpkins. I’ve kept my mouth shut so far this month, but well, I kind of lost it yesterday. It’s official: I miss fall in the Midwest. Don’t hate me for it, but I do. I miss the cool, crisp temperatures. I miss wearing a sweatshirt. I miss the smell (oh, the glorious smell!) of bonfires and wet leaves after a rainstorm. And it didn’t really hit me until yesterday, while tromping through the Tolmachoff Corn Maze. I miss autumn, and it’s a palpable, empty space in my chest.

Which is probably why I spent thirty bucks at Yankee Candle this week, buying candles called “Autumn Breeze” and “Pumpkin Spice.”

Now that I’m done complaining …

Like I said, Tolmachoff Farms is in Glendale. It’s a four generation family farm, operated by Bill and Gracie Tolmachoff and their four children: Bill, Ashley, Michael, and Brooke. The farm originally grew cotton, wheat, and corn in the first part of this century. Then, Bill Senior started selling plums in the early 1970s from a roadside stand, and the rest is history. They now provide the community with fresh produce and seasonal fun—complete with a pumpkin patch and corn maze.

Cost for admission is seven bucks a head. It’s a little steep, especially when you consider you’re not really getting anything free to take home. Once inside, you have to purchase any produce (including super-yummy Pumpkin Butter) or pumpkin. You even have to pay to feed the animals at the petting zoo (who all seemed thoroughly depressed, to be honest, which was in turn depressing).

Spooky Jake in the Corn Maze.

I did have fun in the Corn Maze. It took forty-five minutes! This is predominantly what you’re paying for, and I’d never done a Corn Maze before. I did have flashbacks of David Bowie, wearing tight spandex in The Labyrinth—but that’s not necessarily a bad thing, is it? Jake was my fearless leader, and he guided us to the exit with the stellar leadership of an army general. Even though it was hotter than hell, I wallowed in the smell of fresh corn on the cob. Strangely, the scent reminded me of another season altogether—the beginning of summer in Ohio.

In conclusion, Tolmachoff Farms is pretty expensive for what you get. We didn’t even buy a pumpkin, because they were too over-priced. The Corn Maze was good fun; the petting zoo was just plain sad. The Pumpkin Butter is delicious.

Maybe my lukewarm feelings about the place weren’t really any fault of the farm itself; maybe it was my attitude that did it. Maybe yesterday I was just struggling with getting into the spirit of the season, because how does a true Midwesterner fall into fall … without a big pile of leaves to catch her?

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