New video: Samhain

As soon as the leaves start to change colour, everybody starts getting excited about Samhain...

So continuing on with the series of videos we've been doing on the festival year, we've just finished the latest one in plenty of time for Samhain. This is the longest one to date, but that's because there's just so much to talk about and it's difficult to do it all justice in five minutes or less. Kathryn took the lead on this one and did an amazing job - I think this is my favourite video so far:

We asked people over on the Gaelic Polytheism group to help us out and contribute some photos and we got an amazing response from folks. We couldn't fit everybody's contributions in, but we appreciate every single photo that we received and we hope we can find a home for them in future videos. Thanks to each and every one of you for your support!

Hand in hand with this video I think it's a good time to repost one of the videos we released last time, around Lùnastal:

The Prophecy of the Morrígan from Cath Maige Tuired is as relevant to Samhain as it is to Lùnastal, so it's well worth a watch (again)! Also in our festival playlist, we have a video on turnip carving if you're looking for some pointers; you can find it by clicking on the wee arrow next to the "playlist" link in the top left of the video, then scroll down towards the bottom, or else I've done a walk-through guide over on Tairis. Some links you might find useful:

• Samhainn
• Celebrating Samhainn
• Carving Tumshies
• Samhainn Divination

Those of you in the southern hemisphere might find this video worth watching instead, however, as you head towards Bealltainn:

The Samhain video completes the four Quarter Days in the Gaelic calendar, and we have two more videos to come on Midwinter and Hogmanay traditions to complete the festival year as a whole. After that, we intend to come full circle, as it were, and do a video on the festival year in general (which is probably where we should have started, but oh well!). And then... Who knows? If there are any subjects you'd like us to tackle, that relate to Gaelic Polytheism in some way, feel free to weigh in on the comments!

The Slender Man (duhn duhn DUHN)

People often talk about the "thinning of the veil" at this time of year, along with unseen, intangible dangers being afoot. There's talk of the dead coming back to visit – usually in a good way, not a threatening way – but also those tricksy kinds of spirits being about, which must be protected against. Just as the guisers who knock on your door should be appeased with offerings of sweets and good things to eat, so must the spirits who might not be made of sugar and spice and all things nice. Really, you can't say for sure if you're dealing with kids or Other when there's a knock at the door.

So there's a tension of sorts, throughout the night. Throughout the whole period, really, depending on how long you see it as lasting – three nights, seven nights, up until the Old Style date...However you see it. The season turns, and while it shifts, things are unbalanced. The things we do at this time help us navigate our way through the potential pitfalls and dangers, and see us safely out the other side.

It's something I've been thinking about this year in particular for a number of reasons. Partly because the kids are old enough to be really getting into the spirit of guising and thinking hard about their costumes and making careful choices, and asking what it's all about (and also learning about it at school, prompting more questions). It's also kind of been reinforced by the fact that a neighbourhood dog broke into our house on Wednesday for the express purpose of attacking one of our dogs – nobody was hurt, thankfully – but in the wintry gales that have been hammering these parts, which blew open the gate that allowed the dog to roam in the first place and seek out Mungo...well. Unpredictable forces are very much afoot.

The kids have been thinking about their costumes long and hard in the run up to this year's celebrations, and while Rosie has changed her mind on a near daily basis, Tom hit upon an idea and stuck with it from the off. After considering a meerkat and several other options, Rosie decided she wanted to dress up as Lily Munster (she thinks The Munsters is hilarious "even though it's old"), but coming up with a costume for that was difficult so eventually she decided to go as a vampire bat instead. I say bat, but it ended up more like a butterfly...And less of a vampire because she decided against wearing the vampire teeth in the end. To be honest, all she really cares about is the face-paints, so she ended up more than happy.

Tom, on the other hand, decided that he wanted to dress up as Steve from Minecraft. The kids are both keen on the game and enjoy building their own little worlds in it, which they've populated with all kinds of things, so there's that as a reason. There's also a rumour going round at school that the Slender Man is living in one of the local woods, and as the story has grown and evolved the kids have come up with all sorts of ideas about it; since many of the kids at school are also Minecrafters, the story has had elements of the game added in – you have to make certain potions to kill the Slender Man, or use a certain kind of sword or pick and so on. I'd never heard of the Slender Man before but apparently it's some sort of internet meme crossed with a typical urban legend of the spooky child-kidnapper variety. It's also kind of crossed over into Minecraft anyway, because a type of character in the game – Enderman – was named that because it kind of looks a bit like the Slender Man. So in Tom's world, Steve from Minecraft is the perfect choice of costume, because who better to do battle with the Slender Man? Since everyone's in costume at Hallowe'en, the Slender Man might leave the woods and try and take some kids. Something Must Be Done.  

So that was that; as far as Tom was concerned, this year it's serious business. He wanted the costume to be made entirely out of boxes but we managed to persuade him towards a compromise on just a head and body, seeing as the legs and arms would make the costume unwieldy and I wasn't convinced I had enough paint for that much cardboard. So after several days of gluing and painting, we got Tom's costume sorted, and he was very happy with it. As I was painting the head he came up to me and gave me a hug and said, "Mum, I really appreciate you doing this for me." *Sniff*

Every year they have a parade at school for Hallowe'en so the kids can go in costume for the day, so everything had to be ready by Thursday morning and I had to make sure I was up early enough to do face-painting duty. And lo:

Mr Seren had to drive them to school in the morning because it was so wet and windy, and Tom insisted on wearing his costume on the way. His fellow school-mates cheered him as he walked across the playground (Mr Seren had to hold on to him to make sure he didn't blow away) – Tom was chuffed to pieces – and then disaster struck: one of the "bat cuffs" I made for Rosie's arms blew off, never to be seen again. Rosie was distraught because everything was ruined and Mr Seren ran home and I made an emergency replacement. In her excitement at getting to school and doing Hallowe'en stuff all day, she'd left her school-bag at home so he had to go back in anyway.

A little later on Mr Seren and I went to the parade – they didn't have prizes this year because there were apparently complaints from parents that some kids got upset about not winning last year, which is a shame. And a little silly, I think, but ah well. I spent the rest of the day preparing for the evening, and so ghostly gingerbread and mummified cupcakes were baked, decorated, and divvied up with some more treats for the guisers, pumpkin soup was made with the innards of the pumpkins I'd carved out the day before (kindly donated by my mother-in-law, and waste not want not, right?), and the house was set in order.

In our planning ahead, the kids had asked for a proper good Hallowe'en feast and they both asked for roast chicken, so that settled that. I was going to do a dessert as well but in the end I figured that the kids would have enough sweets after going out and it wasn't really necessary (and how true that turned out to be). One of Tom's friends was dropped off so he could go guising as well, and while Mr Seren took them out, I stayed in to keep an eye on dinner and hand out treats.

I'd carved out the lanterns the day before – two pumpkins and a tumshie:

Rosie was tired and didn't want to draw a face on one of the pumpkins, but Tom was more than happy to do one (the one of the left). I ballsed up carving the tumshie yet again this year – accidentally cutting too far through the left eye – but ah well. I put them up in the window to let the guisers know we were open to visitors, and so our evening began.

Mr Seren said the streets were pretty quiet while they were out (it was raining), but we got quite a good turnout and we'd run out of treats by the time the kids got home. The guisers arrived in a steady trickle and they all did a turn; most of them told a joke – I don't think we had any songs this year – but one lad in a neon pink lycra onesie did some...interpretive dance? I gave him points for trying, anyway. One of the last couple of guisers to arrive before the treats ran out didn't have a joke or a dance, but instead had a riddle. What does the fox say? They decided the answer was that the fox doesn't say anything, but I pointed out that they do make a noise, and this was very conveniently demonstrated later on in the evening with a fox barking loudly for a good long while. It's the first time I've heard them in ages and the timing was very apt; winter really is here. The foxes made themselves known last night, too. For hours.

Anyway, back to the evening. Meanwhile, on their way round the village the kids collected an inordinate amount of sweets and Tom had his chance to do battle with the Slender Man after all: A guy dressed in the costume was lurking in the bushes outside his own house, waiting to ambush guisers as they came up the driveway. Slender Man leapt out at the kids as they walked up the drive...and Tom was totally oblivious. Chatting away to his friend, in the dark, and with the box on his head, he didn't see or hear the guy leap out at first. Once he realised, though, he rose to the challenge and charged, screaming, arms waving wildly, with Rosie and friend in tow, while the Slender Man legged it into the house. They got and extra big bag of treats for bravery and Tom was mightily pleased with himself.

Dinner was ready when they got home, so after the friend was picked up and taken home we tucked into our meal, accompanied by lantern-light. After that the kids went through all of their treats and picked out a few to enjoy then and there, and then it was time for homework. Things had gone on later than anticipated so we didn't have a chance to play many games or tell stories, but the kids didn't mind at all. Guising is where it's at now (though we'll do some dookin' at some point to make up for it), and knowing that things don't always fit in on the evening, we've been spreading things out a lot more than usual. Usually we get the photo albums out and talk about family – the great-grandparents they never had a chance to meet, or don't remember, and so on – but we did all that while we were making decorations in the lead up to things, on wet weekend afternoons. Mr Seren told us stories about his gran, Rosie's namesake, and his myriad aunties, and I told them about my grandparents, and so on. I need to get some photos gathered together – I don't have many of the family members that I don't really remember myself.

The kids are sleeping in separate rooms now – Rosie's moved into the spare room because Tom has a tendency to wake up early and she likes her sleep. She's wanting it decorated for her Christmas present, and while she's yet to decide on the colour scheme, she knows she wants lots of things up on the wall, so she can create a Wall of Wonder. I've given her an old picture she likes, that needs re-framing, and I've made her some decorations to go up as well (and for Tom, too). Rosie mentioned wanting some hearts up on the wall, so while being somewhat incapacitated again (though much better now, thankfully) I decided to have a go at knitting some hearts. I'm not the greatest knitter in the world, but she likes them, wonky as they are, and I've strung three of them together to hang up. On the first heart, I sewed in a rowan charm, and finished it in time to surprise Rosie with it as part of our festivities. Tom has one in his room already, but Rosie's room didn't have one yet. She chose where she wanted to hang it, and I put it up for her:

While they'd been out I'd had the chance to begin my devotions – to the ancestors, gods and spirits – so after they went to bed all I had to do was sain the house. I was about ready for bed myself, but after a rest I got to it and made some final offerings for the evening. I slept like the proverbial dead that night, and dreamt of them, too.

Best laid plans and all that...

After all my planning ahead and idle musing on things a few weeks back - and then feeling all smug and organised - Samhainn rolls around and we here in our corner of the universe celebrate it with the delightful aftermath of Norovirus.

Which was nice.

If ever there's a sign that winter's here - you know, aside from the frost and snow we've had - the dreaded Great Affliction is pretty much a dead giveaway, I suppose. So things were a little more scaled back than planned, although all of the important stuff got done, fun was nonetheless had, and I think it was - all in all - a success.

The downside of being a parent is that your kids will inevitably bring varying kinds of snot and bugs home from school so you get to live it all vicariously through one child and then another before you get to experience the delights first hand (my child-free friends are grinning smugly at me through the internet, I can feel it...). By the time it comes around at least you know what to expect, I suppose. On the plus side, by the time the eve of Samhainn rolled around we were all over the worst of it and we were all feeling just a little tired and delicate rather than properly unwell, so at least we were able to celebrate. The feasting element of the proceedings were not something I was particularly keen on, though; nor was Mr Seren. But for some reason, as if my own body was trying to tell me something, I'd had a real craving for gingerbread at the weekend so I'd done some festive biscuits:

And that was all I could really stomach on the eve itself; the ginger helped settle any rumblings quite nicely. I was originally going to let the kids decorate them but Rosie couldn't stomach it and Tom only decided to help out once I'd done most of them. He was very proud of his efforts, though. "The red's blood, mum," he said helpfully. I'd baked a whole load of cake with the intention of sculpting a festive cake, too, but that just wasn't going to happen in the end - so much for great ideas.

But the morning before the big evening rolled around, the kids came bouncing in excitedly to wake me up so they could have breakfast and get ready for the Hallowe'en parade at school. Tom was going to go as Optimus Prime, but after wearing the costume to the Hallowe'en disco the week before and finding it way too small he opted for his old Power Ranger costume instead. Rosie went as "Bat Cat," as planned. She wanted some face paints to complete the look so I did what I could there, with the hasty help of Google that morning:

So long as she had whiskers she didn't really care, so she was very pleased with her look in the end. I managed to drag myself along to the parade later that morning to cheer them on, and the school was awash with anticipation. And also Norovirus, probably. 

There's nothing like a good bout of lurgy to motivate a thorough housecleaning session, is there? So the house was shipshape and in good order for the evening festivities, and I got some decorations up at least, in between a nap or two during the day. While we did get round to making some more decorations during the half-term holiday we haven't done a seasonal mural yet; our Great Affliction scuppered any plans to do it at the weekend, along with a Hallowe'en party Tom was invited to and the party games I'd had planned.

My mother-in-law had got us a large pumpkin for carving (they were on special offer so she got us one spare), so I'd bought two smaller ones for cooking - in the comments of my previous planning post Judith suggested a bread and butter pudding baked in a pumpkin that sounded delicious, and I was going to give that a go until the Great Affliction happened. The other small one was intended for soup and another lantern if I could manage to get the flesh out without having to cut it up. By Samhainn eve I'd already scooped out one of the small pumpkins so I could use the flesh for soup, which I'd done at the weekend while the kids were ill (and my husband promptly ate the whole lot before anyone else got some, barring a small mug I'd had, to see how it was). By Wednesday, although I had at least one pumpkin ready to carve I wasn't convinced I could stomach doing even that one. Mr Seren chipped in and carved the big one into a Stormtrooper's helmet (ish), though, so I knew we'd have at least one. But when I picked the kids up from school the fresh air did me good and I knew I'd have to keep them occupied until they could could go out guising, so they were set with the task of designing a lantern each. The flesh from the second smaller pumpkin went to another batch of soup, instead of pudding. For that we made do with cake (or the kids did, anyway).

I usually carve the lanterns the night before Samhainn, as a way of kicking off celebrations. That night I usually devote to the ancestors in particular, while I carve and make some opening offerings. But given the delicate nature of my condition that evening, carving was out of the question then. I didn't have the opportunity to get any tumshies at all so this year there were no turnip lanterns - that was a real shame, but while I wasn't convinced I'd manage the pumpkins, to begin with, I knew there was no way my nose/stomach would stretch to accommodate the stench of turnip. But what we ended up with still did the job nicely:

Tom designed the cross-eyed one, and Rosie decided the scariest thing she could think of was a spider after flicking through Google and being told that no, butterflies weren't scary and E.T. was way beyond anything I can manage. I royally ballsed up the legs on hers, but I think Tom's came out pretty good.  Young sir was very pleased with it, anyway, and we had fun talking about all the scary things that would be afoot that night as they got creative.

By the time the carving was done it was time to do dinner - I did stovies, since the soup needed a bit longer to cook (we had that the next day). And then we lit the lanterns and put them in the windows at the front of the house to let the guisers know that they were welcome, with great ceremony and excitment. Mr Seren did some games and dancing with the kids while I was doing the fiddly bits of carving and then dinner, but we just didn't have time for party games proper in the end. Seeing as many of the games are food-based, that was probably for the best! But after dinner the kids did go out guising and that's really all they wanted to do, so as far as they were concerned it was the best Samhainn EVAR. For me, though, it's another year without having tried treacle scones. A sad Gaelic Polytheist am I.

While Mr Seren was out with the kids, I had the opportunity to get my ritual on. The guisers were very thoughtful and managed to space their visits out between my opening offerings, then my prayers and devotions, saining and putting up some rowan and so on. It was a little piecemeal in some respects, but none the worse for that.

For once I could sain the kids' room properly without disturbing them - I usually have to do it after they've gone to bed, so I had some luxury to be more thorough there and give the room a good sprinkle. This time, seeing as no one was in the house, I tried burning some juniper, too - I couldn't do too much to get a good smoke going and fill the house, but I have to say the bit of smoke I did generate certainly has a powerful quality to it.

Tom was the first to come back, dashing in to go to the loo (and having to do battle with his costume first). Mr Seren and Rosie arrived not long after, Rosie sporting the manic grin of the happily E-numbered and well-sugared. They had been very successful on their tour of the street, with lots of generous treats from neighbours - it was a fairly quiet night compared to some years previous, but I know a lot of the kids' classmates had also been laid low by the bug that we'd had, too, so like us I think folks had a bit more to hand out to those that did turn up. Mr Seren said the kids did well with their entertaining; at the first couple of houses they were pretty much bricking it and Rosie didn't get much further than the first couple of lines from Twinkle Twinkle Chocolate Bar before trailing off into the Shy Mumble, but by the fifth house or so Tom had already fired into a festive cupcake and had to be held back by Mr Seren before he ended up spraying crumbs over whoever answered the door while Tom tried to do his joke through a mouthful of cake. I'd thought about going out with them, but I'd had such a busy day already I didn't want to over do things - my back is doing a whole lot better but I'm still being a little cautious.

After the kids were back we all gathered in the kitchen to share out the sweets (and a good number of apples and nuts, too), then it was time for homework while the last of the guisers knocked at the door, and then it was bedtime. For once, I didn't have to take the lanterns away from the window because the sweets had run out.

Seeing as I'd already done my ritualling before the kids went to bed I had the opportunity to spend a quiet, candle-lit evening in contemplation and just relaxing. Of course for Samhainn there's a big focus on the ancestors and I had a candle up in the window and invited them to come for a visit if they so wished. I had food out for them, and made offerings to them, and I spoke to them and drank a toast to their memory. And the same to the spirits too, with offerings of peace.

I made offerings to the Cailleach and an owl (the cailleach-oidhche in Gàidhlig) struck up a thoughtful song in the woods nearby. I made offerings to my ancestral deities and a crow cawed off in the distance. I thought back on the year and gave thanks for all the good things that have happened, and thought about the maybe not so good things too. I prayed for blessings, for my family and friends. And I looked up at the stars and out into the night and I listened for a while, and breathed in the cold, slightly smokey air, and that night I slept like the dead, and if I dreamed I've no idea what it was.

At the weekend we went to the beach and I made my offerings to the river and the sea. On Monday night - Bonfire Night, here - the fireworks filled the sky, and as the air was heavy with smoke I chopped up the pumpkin lanterns and buried pieces of them at four points around the outside of the house. I can't beat the bounds around the house with a flaming torch but I can reinforce the boundaries in my own way. We didn't manage to get to a fireworks show (they were at the weekend and we didn't realise, but the local event was Disney-themed anyway, so it was probably for the best - we don't do Disney in this house), but one of our neighbours always has a display in his back garden so the kids didn't miss out. Poor Mungo practically had a nervous breakdown, though, wrapped in a towel and cowering beneath Mr Seren's desk. Our older dog doesn't mind them (plus he's basically deaf now) but Mungo can't stand fireworks.

So that was Samhainn. Not quite how I'd planned but it all came together in the end, I think.

Planning ahead

Seeing as Samhainn is a pretty Big Deal round here it's one of the few festivals in the year where everyone gets excited and I can really make an effort to Do Stuff without appearing to be a complete loon. There's everyone putting up the terribly tasteful decorations and carving tumshies or pumpkins, there's the Hallowe'en parade at school and the guisers coming to our door...It's a great occasion and especially good for being able to get the kids involved.

Considering the fact that it's a pretty Big Deal it's going to require a bit of planning ahead. We got some really huge tumshies last year, which were perfect for carving, so hopefully we'll get some more this year. Seeing as they're quite tough to carve (instructions for carving here, if you're looking for tips) they're not really something I can do with the kids just yet so I've tried to carve a pumpkin over the last few years as well. Maybe it's just the crappy plastic tools we have for the job but they're quite tough too, but while the stench of tumshie is quite evocative, shall we say, the innards of a pumpkin reminds my son of brains, apparently:

We couldn't get one last year but I've promised Rosie a pumpkin soup at the least this year. Seeing as I've no idea how to do that I still need to figure that one out... The kids want to go guising this year, for the first time, so if it's cold (we've already been having frosty nights so there's a good chance) the soup will be good for warming them up when they get back. The kids can help me make it, and some Brodick bannocks to go with it too. And maybe some butter - they have great fun yelling out the rhymes to make the lumps come.

Seeing as the kids want to go guising, they'll need to prepare some jokes or songs if they want their sweets (or hot dogs - one of the houses handed out hot dogs last year, they were very popular!). Trick or treating isn't really a thing here; you only knock on doors that have lanterns put out to indicate that guisers are welcome, so sweets are pretty much guaranteed, and you have to perform a piece of entertainment or the people you're prevailing on can tell you where to go. As the song goes:

Tell a story,
Sing a song;
Dae a dance,
Or oot ye gang!

Although jokes and nursery rhymes are what you'll probably hear, there are plenty of traditional songs too. "Tell a Story" is one, but I think the best known one is Heigh Ho for Hallowe'en:

Heigh Ho for Hallowe'en!
When the witches a' are seen,
Some black and some green,
Heigh Ho for Hallowe'en!

There's another one I quite like:

Hallowe'en a nicht o' tine
A can'le in a custock.

A howkit neep wi' glowerin' een
To fleg baith witch and warlock.

(Or: Hallowe'en a night of fire/A candle and a cabbage stem./A tumshie lantern with scowling eye(s),/To scare both witch and warlock.)

But I suspect the kids might decide to sing "Twinkle Twinkle Chocolate Bar" because they like doing the actions. I think that's about all they'll need to know about guising for now - they can get up to the mischief part when they're older...

We made some decorations last year but seeing as it's the October holiday I think we might just make some more...I think it's going to be a long week ahead this week. We also have our seasonal mural to think about, and now we have a fish tank in the way of where the murals tend to go I think we'll be adapting it to make a background for the tank.

It wouldn't be a proper Samhain without some games for the kids, so a bit of planning is required for that, too. I'd like to try the divination game with the crowdie, where you whip up a big bowl of the cream, honey and oatmeal and mix some charms into it for everyone to try and dig out. Before now I've felt the kids have been a bit too young for it - small parts being included and all - but my youngest is five now and I think she's old enough to get the gist of things and not end up having to make a mad dash to hospital. I'll need to figure something out because I don't have any charms yet, but that shouldn't be too difficult. I might also have to adapt the game slightly because there are worse things in the world today than getting a charm that suggests you won't ever marry. Otherwise, we'll have the usual games - dookin' for apples, blind man's bluff, musical statues and musical bumps and so on. I also have what looks like a decent recipe for treacle scones I can use for that game, so hopefully I'll finally get around to trying that too.

So as usual there's a lot to fit in, including time to do my own thing, of course. Some of our plans will probably fall by the wayside, as it usually happens, but at least I'm in a more physically capable state to make a go of things this year. With the kids wanting to go guising the feasting part of the proceedings will probably take a backseat to the more important aim of the kids making themselves feel thoroughly sick, but I like to round off the celebrations with a nice meal the day after too, so that can still get done. Then of course there will be saining to be done and offerings to be made. And perhaps a story or two to be told, for the kids.

Hello Wikipedians!

So I noticed a few hits on the old blog here coming from Wikipedia, of all places, and it seems that there is currently a debate raging over there with regards to rutabaga, of all things. So hello! Thanks for all the support and nice things that are being said.

I have to say, it's a bit weird to find myself being debated on a corner of the internet dedicated to a root vegetable...

While I feel very honoured to have my website referenced on a Wikipedia article, I have to say I'm quite surprised, too, because I wouldn't have thought that it qualifies from what I understand of Wikipedia's rules about what is and isn't suitable for referencing. I do make an effort to write my articles to a decent standard and put references in, but it's not like they're peer reviewed, or anything. Having said that, I do live in Scotland, so I could point out that I am carrying on the tradition and am speaking from experience.

I didn't grow up in Scotland, but my husband did so I've spoken at length with him and my father-in-law about the practice. I can say - for what it's worth - that it's definitely rutabaga that was (and still is) used for carving the lanterns, though here they really are called tumshies, neeps, or just 'turnips'. In supermarkets you'll find them on sale as swedes, but colloquially they are rarely referred to as such in Scotland, as far as I've ever heard.

I can also say that they're an absolute bugger to carve.

Anyway, I've been unable to ascertain for certain how old the tradition is, but like some have been saying on the talk page it's not something that can be said to be particularly 'ancient' or specifically pre-Christian - especially seeing as the tumshie itself only dates from the seventeenth century. So the start of the section on Hallowe'en is incorrect when it says:

Since early times,^[when?] people living in Ireland and Scotland have carved turnips and used them as lanterns to ward off harmful spirits.^[19] They are still popular throughout Britain and Ireland today at Halloween, ^[20]however their use goes back to a much earlier time.
 

This bit here:

The bonfires were replaced with hollowed out turnips (the common name for rutabaga in Ireland, Scotland. and Northern England) filled with glowing coals.

Is also a bit questionable, I think (there's also a full stop after 'Scotland' that should be a comma). The lanterns didn't replace the bonfires; in Scotland, the bonfires have arguably shifted to Guy Fawkes' night on November 5th - see Ronald Hutton's Stations of the Sun. It's true that tumshie lanterns aren't as common as they used to be, though, and most people carve pumpkins these days. Most years you'll find the odd piece in the paper about trying to revive the tumshie. 

I would also say that Samhain is not a Celtic festival, it's a festival that is Irish in origin. Given Scotland's Gaelic heritage, it is also referred to as Samhain (or Samhainn/Samhainn) in Gàidhlig. It's an important distinction that needs to be made, because 'Celtic' is a linguistic term that refers to a variety of languages. It is sometimes used as a cultural term but in this context it implies that Samhain is a festival that is found in all Celtic cultures. This is not the case.

Just my tuppence worth there.

Anyway, another useful reference for you might be F. Marian McNeill's book, Hallowe'en: It's Origin Rites and Ceremonies in the Scottish Tradition. The song on page 33, called A Nicht o' Tine has a verse:

A howkit neep wi' glowerin' een
To fleg baith witch and warlock.

In other words: "A carved turnip with scowling face, to scare both witch and warlock." As far as I can tell the book was published in 1970 or 1971 - there's no date or ISBN number, but it was published by The Albyn Press in Edinburgh.

And one final thing, just to clarify: I am, in fact, a 'her'!

Archive: Turnips and Samhainn 2007

My house smells faintly of turnip...

Well, maybe not 'faintly'. There is a stench of turnip in my house...It's strangely akin to the smell of decay, really. That sickly-sweet kind of smell. I'm beginning to see why it was so appropriate to the season.

I decided to carve them now for a couple of reasons. Firstly, I'm planning to do quite a bit, and I have to be realistic and factor in the kiddy issue...If I had all day to myself then it would have been fine to do it all on Samhainn (Hallowe'en), but seeing as Tom is still in his helpful phase, wielding a sharp pointy knife seemed to be a little irresponsible when the kiddies would be about...Secondly, my husband is off at a meeting dahn sahf again, so I have the house to myself once the kids are in bed, and I don't have him complaining about the smell, or giving me 'helpful' advice to tell me that I'm doing it wrong...Thirdly, if it all went hideously tits up and I had to start again, I had plenty of time to start again. As it is, I think I'll use one during my Tara ritual, which I hope to be able to do tomorrow or the next day, and the other on Samhainn itself.

I'm hoping they'll keep a couple of days (I don't see why not), but they were surprisingly easy to carve out - much easier than trying to cut the damn things. Slicing the tops off was the most difficult part to be honest, and then I just cut a cross into the flesh as deep as I could, then gouged out the rest of it as I turned the knife in a circle, getting deeper and deeper into it. The turnip flesh just flaked out as I did this, and when it got really deep I used a measuring spoon to scoop out the rest - it was the toughest spoon I had, so it didn't bend, and I could use it scoop out extra bits of the turnip to gouge out the bottom, which was more difficult using a knife alone. I tried to get the walls of the turnips quite thin, but not too thin that they'd start to burn at the edges once I'd cut faces into them.

After I scooped them out, I drew the faces onto the turnip with one of Tom's felt-tip pens and then cut the turnip out as well...My first go on the left of the photo was too small and I had to cut a hole out of the lid to allow enough air in for the candle to burn adequately...My second attempt on the right seems to burn much better.

I've never attempted to carve a pumpkin, let alone a turnip or two, but here we are. It was easier to do than I thought it would be. I've used what those in north America would call 'rutabaga's'. I call them 'swedes', but after pumping my father-in-law for information, he assures me that swedes/rutabagas count as 'turnips', which he (and my husband) calls tumshies...A turnip is basically anything in the turnip family that's big enough to carve, from what I can tell.