I'm Dreaming
It’s like spending Christmas in Miami.
As I write this, I’m wearing black pants and a bright orange sweater. It’s not accomplishing much. Young Frankenstein is in the DVD player, vainly trying to strike the Halloween mood. I’m nibbling a Kit Kat bar, hoping to draw in trick-or-treaters through sympathetic magic.
We have one bag of Hershey’s minis for the trick-or-treaters. One small bag. We will eat it all ourselves. We also have three oversized bars ready for the first kids to ring the doorbell. The message is: this house gives the good candy. Nobody gets that message. I’ve grown used to getting no trick-or-treaters, but I will never accept it.
We have neither jack-o’-lantern nor pumpkin seeds this year. Usually, we pick up a pumpkin in mid-October, at the orchard where we pick our own apples, but the weather was soggy every weekend this month. Rain turns the orchard into a sea of mud, so we kept putting the trip off. I planned instead on getting a pumpkin from a more local farm, but found it closed. Even the grocery stores weren’t carrying pumpkins this year, a casualty perhaps of the weather that ruined many crops this year.
Speaking of weather, Halloween itself is a cheery, warm day. It’s hard to think spooky thoughts when sunlight spills over trees remaining unseasonably green.
I left the house twice today to walk the neighborhood, once for errands, once for exercise. I saw two costumes: a kitty and a cowboy waiting for their dad to come off shift at the firehouse.
I can’t even celebrate with Eileene; she’s on an overnight business trip in DC.
I feel like I’m on the business trip myself, in Thailand or Senegal or some other country where nobody celebrates October 31. Perhaps things will get better after sunset, but I wouldn’t count on it. Building a holiday mood takes some time. Besides, these days children are only allowed to troll for candy in daylight; once the sun sets, my holiday is over.
Boo.