The origin of the jack-o’-lantern can be traced back to at least the 16th century in Ireland and stories of a roguish con man known as Stingy Jack.
As the story goes, Stingy Jack was a drunkard known for using his silver tongue to manipulate people into getting what he wanted. The Devil, having heard of this evil man and his power of persuasion, wanted to see for himself whether or not Jack could live up to his reputation. So, one night, the Devil positioned himself on the cobblestone path down which he knew Jack would be drunkenly strolling, and he waited.
Sure enough, along came Stingy Jack, who recognized the Devil by his grimaced countenance and knew he must have come for his soul. Not ready for Hell, Jack hatched a plan; he asked the Devil to let him get drunk at the pub one last time. The Devil agreed, and he and Jack went to the pub, where Jack downed pint after pint. At the end of the night, when it came time to settle their tab, Jack asked the Devil if he wouldn’t mind paying—saying that the Devil could easily just turn himself into a silver coin, turning back after the purchase and being out nothing in return.
The Devil agreed, but Jack ran out on the bill rather than settle up, placing the Devil—as a silver coin—in his pocket. Unfortunately for the Devil, also in Jack’s pocket was a crucifix, which rendered him powerless and prevented him from changing back to his regular form. Stingy Jack agreed to free the Devil, but on one condition: he not return for Jack’s soul for ten years.
In ten years time the Devil was back for Stingy Jack’s soul. Jack once again stumbled upon the Devil on a lonely cobblestone path, but before he could be led to Hell, he asked for an apple to sate his hunger before being eternally damned. The Devil obliged and climbed a tree to retrieve the fruit. While he was up there, clever Jack quickly carved a cross in the tree’s trunk, trapping the Devil once more. This time, Jack made the Devil agree to never take his soul to Hell. The Devil agreed.
After years of hard drinking, Jack finally died, only to find that his many sins had disqualified him from entering Heaven. Desperate, Jack went to the gates of Hell, hoping to be admitted into some section of the afterlife. But the Devil remembered their bargain and turned Jack away, telling him to find his own Hell and giving him an ember to light his way. Jack placed the ember in a large, carved turnip—what would be known as a rutabaga in the United States—and was doomed to wander the world, forever trapped between Heaven and Hell.
By the mid-17th century, people were using the term jack-o’-lantern—a contraction of “Jack of the lantern”—to refer to any man carrying a lantern. Not long after that, it caught on as a term to refer to any manner of weird light seen near ground level—phenomena also often referred to as will-o’-the-wisps, faerie lights, fool’s fire, and corpse candles. By the 19th century, turnips, potatoes, and beets were being carved with menacing faces and used as lanterns in Ireland to scare off Stingy Jack and other wandering spirits.
Since Halloween—or All Hallow’s Eve, the day before the Catholic holiday All Saints’ Day—falls on the traditional date of Samhain, an ancient celebration marking the end of summer and a time when the souls of the dead were said to return, it’s only natural that the carving of lanterns to ward off evil spirits be incorporated into the holiday. When the Irish emigrated to North America, they brought the tradition with them, and it wasn’t long before the continent’s native pumpkins were noticed as an excellent gourd out of which to carve a lantern. Like Halloween itself, the tradition continued to spread, until the carving of pumpkins into lanterns became synonymous with the fall holiday.
Spice Cottage in Westbourne, West Sussex, was flooded with comments on the clip - which it said was filmed earlier this month. In the footage, diners can be seen tucking into meals at the venue as waiters attend to customers, before the video ends with a round of applause for staff. It was posted to the venue's Facebook page, where one woman, called Lucy Watson, commented: 'How old is the footage? My late husband and his son are on the first shot and he died in 2014??' But a reply from the restaurant said: 'Hi Lucy, sorry to hear this. This footage was recorded last week.'
Looks cool enough, probably sourced from some other original document. I didn't find any reference to a U-530 in service but could be wrong. Those things are many things but small isn't one of them. I find the idea of refueling from 'a sailing vessel' strange but again, could be wrong. I know they had dedicated 'milch cow' subs that were specifically designed for that purpose but wonder if any of their surface combatants could refuel their own subs. For example, destroyers can refuel from larger vessels but I've never heard the practice applied to submarines. Maybe only because the ones we built in that era had extremely long range.
A family in Plainville, Connecticut discovered a black bear, who they named 'Marty Barnard,' hibernating under their backyard deck last month. The family contacted the DEP and were instructed to let the bear be. Because the bear was not presenting any harm, it is the safest option for both the family and bear. Last update was the bear is still under there very content and the family leaves him be. More here or watch video below:
A mobile home park in Minnesota has become the site of a bizarre battle between beleaguered residents and a troublesome wild turkey that has taken up residence in the community. According to a local media report, the strange showdown started around November of 2021 when the bellicose bird arrived in the town of Coon Rapids. Since that time, the turkey has come to believe that the community's mobile park home is its territory and, much to the chagrin of the people living there, the creature seems particularly keen on protecting its turf. "This turkey attacks me every single day," lamented resident Rachael Gross, "follows me, goes up my stairs, tries to get into my house. When I leave in my car, it follows my car."
The bird's aggressive antics have become so bothersome that people living in the mobile park home now arm themselves for protection. "I have to carry my broom and my water and my golf club everywhere I go," Gross said, noting that the local children who wait for the school bus every morning "carry sticks" in case they run afoul of the ornery foul. Her dismay over the situation was echoed by fellow resident Emily Ahlsten, who revealed that she is afraid to take her granddaughter outside due to the presence of the territorial bird. "This turkey has literally taken over our life," an understandably irritated Gross declared.
Unfortunately, it would seem that the mobile park home may be stuck with their unwanted 'mascot' as the state's Department of Natural Resources indicated that "trapping and relocating 'nuisance' turkeys is not an option." Their reasoning is that the usual means of capturing a wild turkey "are often impractical or ineffective" in residential settings. Additionally, the department argued that such birds are likely to "continue their inappropriate actions where they are released or may move substantial distances to other suburban sites." With no relief in sight for the frustrated residents, one can only hope that some kind of peace can be reached, lest someone decide to take down the aggressive turkey for good.