10/05/2026
I've been putting off making this post because, truthfully, I don't really want to make it.
For the past six years, the last Saturday before Halloween has meant one thing around here: the Halloween Hootenanny.
And this year, I don't think we're going to have one.
This isn't a decision I've made lightly. I have poured my heart into this event every single year. I've also poured a lot of money, time, energy, and probably a little bit of my sanity into it. We've spent around $5,000 a year putting the Hootenanny on, and unfortunately, I just can't continue to carry an event this large financially or mentally with such a small team behind it.
I would be remiss if I didn't specifically thank my mom, Janice, Jacob, Rhys, and my father-in-law, Jason. Year after year, they've been there for the prep leading up to it, the chaos of the actual day, and the cleanup afterward. There is absolutely no way I could have pulled this event off without them.
We've also had some wonderful sponsors and people who have stepped up to help us over the years, and I am incredibly grateful for every one of them.
What makes this so hard is that I LOVE the Hootenanny.
There isn't much I love more than watching our farm and our little town come to life that day.
The Hootenanny started in 2020, during the pandemic. I just wanted to give families a safe way to celebrate Halloween outside on the farm. I honestly thought maybe a few people would show up.
More than 600 people came that year.
They spread out around the farm, said hi from a distance, enjoyed being outside, and somehow that little idea turned into something much bigger than I ever imagined.
Over the years, it grew beyond the farm and down Main Street. Eventually, we filled four blocks with activities, vendors, food, trunk-or-treats, local organizations and small businesses. We welcomed thousands of people into our little town and onto our farm.
Seeing that many people here — kids in costumes running around, families filling Main Street, people eating and shopping and laughing, the farm absolutely packed — was incredible.
I am so proud of what we built.
And that's probably why admitting that I can't do it this year hurts so much.
An event this size simply can't continue with such a small team behind it while also costing us thousands of dollars each year. I wish that weren't the reality. I wish I had the financial ability, the manpower, and the mental bandwidth to just keep doing it because I love it.
But right now, I don't.
So unless something drastically changes, there will not be a Halloween Hootenanny this year.
I don't know if this is goodbye forever. I really hope it isn't.
Maybe someday we'll find a way to bring it back with more community involvement, more financial support, and enough hands to make something this big sustainable.
But for this year, I need to be okay with saying we did something really special for six years. And I am so proud of that.
To every person who came to the Hootenanny, brought your kids, decorated a trunk, set up a booth, sponsored something, volunteered, or helped us turn one crazy little 2020 idea into an event that brought thousands of people to West Concord:
Thank you.
Truly.
I'm going to miss it more than I can put into words. ❤️
