Halloweenie

Wow, tough crowd this week, eh?

(At this very moment the BlogPatrol ticker says there have been 999 visitors since I've started counting earlier this month. Who will be #1,000? The suspense is killing me!)

An acquaintance-friend of mine stated earlier this week that she doesn't like Halloween. I felt a surge of relief at this confession. Because I don't either.

I don't know what happened. I love all things autumn, I love candy, I love pumpkins (to look at and eat), I love the color orange (thanks to my Alma Mater--War Eagle!).

I do not like being scared, though. I do not like creepy things. I do not like eyeballs. Or spiders. Or severed hands. I do not like haunted houses or corn mazes. I REALLY do not like people with chainsaws. Perhaps this is the source?

Something has changed over the years, as I truly loved my childhood Halloweens. We had a big box of costumes that my mother would pull down out of the attic. It had this musty smell, and that is what Halloween "smells like" to me. We pulled out the face paints and the accessories. We all had our favorites. I remember being a Black Cat for several years in a row--I loved that costume. Don't worry...I changed it up each year with a different variation. First, straight up Black Cat. Next, Rich Black Cat. After that, Rich AND Famous Black Cat. (This is achieved by putting sparkles on your face and wearing a boa around your neck.) Well, you get the picture. (It didn't help that upstate New York always snowed on Halloween, meaning we had to wear our big fat snow coats over our costumes...Rich & Famous Fat Black Cat.)

We did not buy many costumes--most were handmade by mom. The best kind! One of the costumes my mother made that all of us wore around age 3 was a Clown Suit. It was made out of solid bright orange polyester and orange & white striped polyester. I found out years later that it had originally been a pant-suit my grandmother had made for my mom when she was in college. I wonder how Grandma felt about that when she saw the pictures of the recycled creation. Good thing we were cute kids--I'm sure that made it better.

Then there was the year that my mom made matching costumes for all of her children. We went Trick-or-Treating as...The California Raisins. We had sheets that had been dyed purple and puckered up to look like raisins. We had oversized white gloves with big cotton balls stuffed in the finger tips. Adorable. And we all pouted the whole evening because we thought it was lame.

Speaking of lame, someone should have told my 7th-grade self that the Poodle Skirt Grandma made for me was JUST for Halloween. Because I wore it to school in January. Just for fun. My mom asked during breakfast if there was some kind of theme day at school? Nope. Didn't I want to change into pants, because it's awfully cold outside? Nope. Okaaaay. (Thanks a lot, Mom.) It took half of homeroom to figure out I'd made a huge fashion faux pas. I hid in the bathroom for the rest of the day.

Speaking of lame AND hiding...that's what I'll be doing this Saturday. Turning off all the lights and hiding in the back of my house. I apologize in advance to the two teenagers and random weird adult who will knock on my door in search of candy. I am a Halloweenie.