Fall Festival and Pioneer Day

Today, being Halloween, I was asked what I did as a child. It got me thinking: nothing! I remember being a little girl and how my parents were against Halloween. My dad would rant and rail about its Satanic origins and we would listen with wide eyes thinking all candy was poisoned. If the poor neighbor dared to ask, "Hey, what are your kids dressing up as for Halloween?" my dad would proudly retort, "Nothing! Its Satanic and your kids shouldn't dress up either!" Said poor neighbor would send his little horse and princess to other houses looking for candy while we would stand at the window pitying them wondering which one would get poisoned and feeling a slight pang of jealousy with some of the costumes and fun. 

Our church, the Independent Fundamental King James Bible believing church had a Fall Festival around the time of Halloween so that the church kids could have some sugar. *Side note: this church and it's activities lacked any type of cultural diversity. And also preched much more about God's wrath than love. Though their quotes are rather quippy.*

Billy Sunday, one of the most famous preachers. 

huH

See what I mean by catchy? 

Back to the Fall Festival: Whispers ran rampant that SOME parents let their kids trick-or-treat! We eyed those kids and sometimes tried to get them to confess. Most were very good liars but some would whisper that yes, mom got them a dragon outfit. However, at the church's Fall Festival we were encouraged to dress as Biblical characters which was so limiting for the imagination. Most little girls wanted to be either mother Mary or Lydia (the woman who sold purple)  because she was easy to recognize. I doubt anyone would have dressed as Delilah or a dove which would have been nice. I think I would have loved to be a dove carrying around hope for the future. Maybe tomorrow. Most boys would throw a towel over their head and be either a shepherd or an apostle. Many towels were lost on those Fall Festival nights. 

The games set up for us were "old fashioned" games that were supposed to be nostalgic and build character but really taught us that if we really wanted candy to go ask the neighbor. One of the games was trying to bob for apples. They would fill a large basin with water and apples and there you would go, trying to have fun, sticking your nose in the pail of water and snorting each time you tired to bite an apple. Very frustrating. Kind of like dating, you go in doing your best and snort each time you try to make it work out. Or like exercise. Another game was tossing things in a hole. I am sure there is a word for this thrilling game. But I have terrible aim and never got any sandbag in a hole. And we would go home by 8 PM. 

Other activities our Independent Fundamental King James Bible reading church had was Pioneer Day! It was in Washington State where 50% of people came from pioneers and the rest of us tried to pretend we cherished those same cultural memories. 

On Pioneer Day we were encouraged to dress as pioneers. Most moms would get really into it and sew elaborate bonnets for their daughters, curl their hair and make real pinafores.

 They would stay up late cooking real pioneer dishes (meat with no salt! Boiled dog! Pies with no sugar!) Joking on the boiled dog. Pioneer morning I had the choice of dressing as a Mexican Pioneer with a flamenco skirt or a hippie dress from the 1970's that was baby blue. It was a shame. My mom usually opted for the flamenco skirt and I was usually stuck with the too-tight hippie dress. 

My mom, unknowingly, brought cultural diversity to Pioneer Day. 

On Pioneer Day the preacher would stand on a hay pulpit and "holler" more than usual at the attendants who would "holler" back "Preach it, Father Kinney!" and Father Kinney would rail on about the dangers of damnation and hell. After which we would have a picnic of pioneer food: corn bread, the dog (kidding) and lots of meat. In the afternoon there were games mostly for adult couples, probably to encourage teamwork and I'm sure  many ended up divorced anyway. The games were fun and my parents had a great time loosing with a great spirit. They were all "pioneer" games like the three legged race where my mom would pull up her flamenco dress showing her sweatpant "bloomers" and she was never sure what foot to start on so while she and my dad contemplated the race started. Another one was the wheel barrow race, which my mom loved, where the husbands rolled their wives in a wheel barrow to the finish line. Many dumped their wives over (on purpose no doubt) but my mom loved shrieking with delight flying down the prairie with her Mexican Pioneer outfit flying in the wind. The egg carry race usually ended in an egg dropped immediately. We were really good at dropping and breaking things in our family. 

So while the rest of the children of our neighbors dressed up and got sugar, our strange world compensated and tried to have fun in their own strange, very strange, way. Too many baked potatoes were eaten. Too many apples bobbed for. It's interesting to see how people navigate for company and similar ways of thinking. In the US it is much  more polarized than in other countries, for sure, but the behavioral patterns are the same. 

Anyway, goodnight dear blog. And yes, working at the firm has sort of dried my creative bones and limited my will to blog or be on a device any more than demanded of me... Temporarily I hope.