Happy Halloween, readers. You see, in the picture above, the pumpkins that YFU and I carved Wednesday night. I did the cat, and she did the much more challenging spider. I also carved a bat on the back of each so that the candles would get enough air to burn. I forgot to put the carved pumpkins in the garage Wednesday night, so they were already somewhat wilted last night when I took the picture, but they'll be fine for long enough to survive the trick-or-treating tonight, I reckon. I've been munching on roasted pumpkin seeds all morning.
As a pagan wannabe, I am tempted to bemoan the fact that the holiday of Samhain has devolved into an evening where children are encouraged to accept candy from strangers. My rudimentary research, however, indicates that Samhain was originally a Celtic harvest holiday. Harvest holidays are generally marked by feasting as a means of celebrating bounty, so handing out treats seems an entirely appropriate way to celebrate the holiday. Besides, the little kids are so cute. The older ones who come around later and ask for all the candy you have left, not so much, but I suppose that we were all obnoxious adolescents at some point in the past.
I almost never wear a costume on Halloween, and I won't be dressing up this year. I was tempted to wear a pig mask and put some lipstick on it, but I don't own either a pig mask or any lipstick. I suppose I could have procured those items easily enough yesterday, but I had choir practice last night, and the rest of my time disappeared when TJ announced that it was Power Bottom Appreciation Day. It's easy for him, of course: he just has to sit there and let the presents pour in. For me, it's a lot harder: so many people to thank, so little time.
I am, however, a firm believer in the concept of trick and treat ("Or?" Are you kidding me? Why choose when you can have both? Let this be the guiding principle of your lives, readers. Except when it comes to your carbon footprint.), so I will be handing out candy to adorable youngsters being closely watched by their anxious parents in the earlier part of the evening, and around 9 or so Logan will be showing up for some appropriate pagan rituals. He says that he'll be dressed as a gypsy. I was, at first, a bit worried to read that -- in case he shows up in a long skirt and wants to read my palm -- but then I got all excited. After all, tonight's supposed to be the night when the veil between the flesh and spirit worlds is thinnest, and the only thing better than otherworldly sex is otherworldly sex with members of an oppressed nomadic European minority.
Anyway, I don't reckon the rest of you will be having as much fun as I, but enjoy your parties or secret chocolate binging or whatever. If you're stumped for a costume, you have two basic choices: naughty or scary. Naughty is easy: wear a pair of horns and nothing else. And if you want to be truly scary, get a Dubya mask and a button that says "Four More Years!" Just don't expect anyone to love you for it. Even the Washington Post is disgusted. About time.