Happy Halloween

C'est la fête de l'Halloween!

Seeing 1.) Logan in the adorable bumble bee costume that Tawny made for him, and 2.) Ellen's trio in their creative trick-or-treat garb put me in a much more receptive state this year, so I'm actually prepared to answer the doorbell and hand out candy--up until such a time as all my friendly neighborhood spiderkids have made their rounds. Or until the kids who need to start shaving come calling. I'm all for "cute Halloween"; I'm not a fan of "scary Halloween."

Here at our house, it's a bit of a last-minute, makeshift deal as far as decorating is concerned. Neighbors have had their pumpkins and fake spider webs up for weeks. I'm relying on the naturally occurring spider webs and spiders that congregate around our front door. Also, I just stuck a little stuffed cat in an orange flowerpot with a hand-lettered greeting taped to the back of an old picture frame on the doorstep.

In my defense, I did walk over to Loeb earlier to see if they had any pumpkins left, but they were all sold out. (I waited until today, because I thought I'd have the car to do errands--but that's another story.) I have a hard time believing that all the pumpkins we saw in the stores and even in the fields last weekend have found homes to take them in. Looking on the bright side, I don't have to worry about "doing something" with the pumpkin afterwards. It's difficult enough for me to keep up with reincarnating my elderly bananas as muffins.

The chocolate bars and twizzlers I bought this afternoon from Shoppers are the real deal, though. (I've learned once again that lack of willpower and buying Reese's peanut butter cups well in advance of Oct 31 do not make for a good combination.) I'm also handing out tiny boxes of Sun Maid raisins, because I know there are a few health-conscious parents on the street, and, more importantly, I find the miniature boxes irresistibly cute. (One of my own cherished childhood Halloween memories is of hating the raisins but loving the box.) Hey, if the kids don't want to eat raisins, they don't have to: they can add them to oatmeal cookies or mix them with other trail mix foodstuffs.

Just caught a glimpse of my eccentric neighbor-across-the-street's grandson in a Peter Pan costume--wait, maybe it's Robin Hood, 'cause there's a bow involved. His grandma looks like she's dressed as an A&W carhop. His dad's not dressed at all--I mean, not dressed up at all, but then again, he's the one who snowblows in shorts. Hmm, grandma just left with a backpack. Maybe she moonlights at A&W, since her day job involves administration at a school.

I do hope I haven't bought all these treats for naught. Fortunately, it's a bewitching 14 degrees right now, and a welcome change from the freaky snow (freakin' is more like it) we had Tuesday night/Wednesday morning.

Whether you're tricking or treating or hiding in the basement with all the lights turned out, keep safe and have fun!

Update
By my count, 61 gremlins turned up at our door this evening. There weren't as many little ones as I'd thought. The majority of the costumes were run-of-the-mill. The little kids stumbling to the door in their flashing runners are cute no matter what they wear. Noteworthy among the older kids was the doctor, making the rounds all by himself, and a young woman (no doubt old enough to shave her legs) who was wearing a sleeveless black shift with golden wings (a bee? a fairy? a dark angel?), in the middle of a ring of kids.

Peter Pan/Robin Hood was my first victim--I mean visitor. I had already put treats in his bucket when he stepped into my entrance and grabbed a second box of Sun Maid raisins, saying, "I really like these." I don't think he's old enough to have said that ironically. He told me he was the Green Arrow. Hmm, never heard of him before.

One little girl came to the door wearing a coat over most of her costume. I saw something tiara-like sitting on her head, so I asked her, "Are you a princess?" "No, a devil," says she, "you silly goose," she might as well have added. Come to think of it, princesses usually wear pink, not red.

I warned a group of 'tweens? teens? not to piss off the neighbors by cutting across the lawns. They seemed really surprised about that. No wonder, because the next trick-or-treater was accompanied by her dad, and it was the dad who led the way right*across*the*lawn (argggh!). Some of those baggies and pillowcases I saw were heavily weighed down by the time 8 o'clock rolled around and I switched off our light.

So that's that for at least another year.