It comes around every year. Our house gets doused in black and orange; more garishly than we dare to go for the Christmas green and red.
We just love Halloween -- because it's near the girl's birthday, and because we get to invent characters for ourselves that we may or may not really want to be. I tend to go for the grotesque-ish versions of real life people -- J.D. the androgynous personal trainer, Cindy the sleazily-polyestered 70's skiier, Rodney the Butt Rock Roadie. I get really damn serious on this blog but in real life i am kind of funny. The kiddo, meanwhile, goes for the princess kind of stuff -- tiaras, gowns, and Tinkerbell. I tried to get her to put in the ugly teeth i got in a three-pack this year, but she was having none of it.
Last year I wrote this blog about sustainable Halloween. All of it still applies -- only this year we added a huge pumpkin patch to the garden to harvest our own jack-o-lanterns too. I had grand illusions of selling my orange beauties at the farmer's market, so my dad rented a tiller early in the spring and got the ball rolling. When my copious planting yielded only about 30 pumpkins, some smaller than a softball, I decided to use them as painting projects during the kiddo's birthday, instead of hawking them in the rain at the amateur's table.
By the way, I wrote a story about the girl's birthday last year around this time too -- so i suppose now is a good time to reflect on that one as well. Happy 6th, my love!