October has always been my favorite month. I grew up in upstate New York, which is a great October place. Cool, crisp days, and the bone chilling, blustery nights that followed, marked the best of months for me as a kid. You just couldn't beat the smell of burning leaves and the visual feast of an upstate New York rolling hill covered with a carpet of trees seemingly on fire with Fall color. Yep, October.
We would get our pumpkins in mid October, and the whole family would carve them together. My Dad's were always the best. He developed a technique to give Jack-O-Lanterns a set of EARS which couldn't be beat! We would set them all up in the front window on a tv tray with a candle in each of the six, where the whole neighborhood could see them. They didn't always make it all the way to Halloween, and you really did have to throw away a pumpkin when it started to go bad, as it got pretty smelly. Or, at least you had to move it outside to the front porch where someone most likely, eventually, smashed it. Still, there was that first night or two where everyone out there in the dark could see our pumpkins all lit up spooky and glorious in the front window, and the back of my neck would secretly tingle with pride.
Another thing I loved about October was apple cider. It wasn't the hot stuff that I now, sometimes, drink at Starbucks. This was cold, fresh, apple cider that you got from the farmer direct. I remember this one place up on top of Boughton Hill where we would stand in line to get our cider. The apple orchard and the barn were right beside us as we waited. There was no mystery as to where the cider came from! Today, I glance at the bottles of apple JUICE that they label "Apple Cider" in my local super market, but it's nowhere near the same. For one thing you can see through it! The good stuff, the real apple cider of my youth, was never filtered to any degree, and rarely had a label of any kind. It was just strong flavored and cold. I don't think I ever drank anything colder than October apple cider. The fact that it ALWAYS gave me a wicked stomach ache never seemed to matter...
I grew up and went away to College and eventually made it out to California, but I would always try to get back to Batavia, New York to see Grandma Watkins in October for our annual foliage tour. That's what she called it. "Should we go see the foliage?" she would inquire with a twinkle in her eye. I think she knew it was my favorite part of the visit. That and the brisket she always roasted for me. Gram was on oxygen for several of those later years of the foliage tour, so I would lug the canister out to the Le Baron. She would hook up and breathe as deeply as she could and we would be off! I remember very distinctly the little puff sounds that the machine made. Gram also needed the air conditioning on the whole time to breathe better. This made the inside of the Le Baron as cold as a freezer and I would watch my knuckles on the steering wheel slowly turn Ontario Lake blue!! There were times when I thought I might need a hit off Grams O2 just to get my heart started again, but I made it through. Our quest in those days was not just for the view of pretty Fall trees. We usually went up past Attica to Merle's Farm to get some syrup. This is another wonderful by product of October in upstate New York, some of the best maple syrup in the world. Gram and I would wind our way down the country roads of her and my youth. She would tell me stories the whole way. She would talk about Grandpa, and Marion Whitelsey, and sometimes even Old Man Merle. "That's who started the farm." she would say. And it would go on like that. The beautiful cold, crisp day, and the sound of Grams voice mixed with the little oxygen puffs...
At this moment, three days before Halloween, there is a very confused maple tree outside my window here in Burbank. It's sort of half turned to yellow, but still has all of it's leaves. I think it's confused by the three weeks of 90 degree days we have endured this California October. My neighbors have put up this really cool pumpkin display with a giant spider web, but the whole thing is made of plastic. It's fire season in California and the terrible burning brush fires that happen all to frequently, smell nothing like the burning leaves of Western New York. I haven't carved a pumpkin this year. I did find out recently that you can now order Merle Farm Syrup on the internet, but I don't see the point. I miss Grandma. I miss the foliage tour. I guess I'll go over to Starbucks, order a Venti Caramel Apple Cider and see if I can get a cup with ice... Yep, California October.
