Mrs Finnegan’s Almanac: Special Halloween Issue

Hallowe’en is FAST approaching. It’s a big BIG event in Ireland and Scotland and is popular in many parts of England too.

While much of it is harmless, NEVER forget that at its heart is the ancient CELTIC festival of Samhain which marks the end of summer and the beginning of a long LEAN winter. It is the day the barrier between THIS world and the one we cannot see grows thin, allowing the dead to walk the streets they knew in life. And if that that thought doesn’t make you as nervous as a long-tailed CAT in a room full of rocking chairs you must have nerves of iron (and the sensibility of a fish).

Only some of the dead rise. I am quite CERTAIN that nice, well-meaning folk have the good manners to stay where they are – it is the bad tempered ones that tend to climb out of their graves, especially those bearing a GRUDGE. Bonfires are lit in some places to keep them away which seems like a sensible precaution.

I don’t know why this artist chose to show women only. Men are just as likely to get up and walk so I have been told.

As a child I spent many hours making a jack o’lantern. It is hard work as TURNIPS are not made of soft cut-able stuff. I’ve seen it suggested that beets or potatoes are a suitable alternative. They are NOT. Even the biggest tattie wouldn’t make a lantern capable of scaring away the most TIMID of wandering souls and a beet would be as USEFUL as a butter bonnet in August.

You are supposed to cut a hole top and bottom so a candle can be inserted and the smoke escape. Some say that the skin should be left INTACT, but cut as thin as possible where the scary face is to feature so that as much light and as little wind may get through as possible. That is the counsel of PEREFECTION that I have never seen accomplished.

In any case, every child over the age of four KNOWS the best way to get a decent jack o’lantern is to try, cut a finger, cry and get your FATHER to do it. The boy above must have had the hands of a stone mason and been building bridges by the time he was nine. I hope the man below had a wife to tell him he needs a candle WITHOUT the candlestick.

Love plays a part in Hallowe’en too.

In many houses the young of marriageable age are led blindfolded to three dishes. One has plain water in it, one foul water (I leave you to decide what it might contain) and the other is empty.
The young folk are required to dip their hand in a dish. If it is plain water, they will wed someone suitable, foul water means marriage to a widow or widower and the empty dish indicates they will die an old maid or bachelor.

I RECOMMEND a tidier activity with less danger of broken plates.
If a girl likes two men she can discover which one will be loyal by sticking two apples pips on her cheek and naming them. The first one to fall is the one who will be unfaithful. It may take SEVERAL attempts before you get the right answer.

Saint of the Week

St Begu Feast Day: 31st October Patron Saint: of useful women (my own designation)

Begu was a nun for perhaps 50 years on the Yorkshire Moors and has the slimmest of tenuous connections to Hallowe’en.
It seems she led a blameless life and died a peaceful death in 660 but about 400 years later the Abbey at Whitby was financially embarrassed by its lack of relics (in other words, bones of a saint).
They were thrilled to discover a forgotten sarcophagus bearing the inscription Hoc est sepulchrum Begu (This is the grave of Begu. With thanks to my husband Peregrine Hildenbrace whose friend of a friend translated.) Its contents were transferred to Whitby, where miracles were soon being reported and I am sure that the accounts book looked rosier too.
The link to Hallowe’en? Skeletons, of course.
Incidentally, the picture above is not of St Begu. I have no idea what kind of dress a 7th century nun would have worn – what she could get I imagine.

Improve your Vocabulary One Word at a Time

What will I be doing on the eve of All Hallows? Not turnip cutting or apple pip sticking – those days are behind me. No, after my labours as Housekeeper at The Regency Town House I shall be snerdling if given half a chance. That is wrapping myself up in bed and and keeping warm while the rest of the world makes mischief outside. Are you with me? (Not in bed, the very idea! But in spirit…?)

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