i've never been a big fan of this holiday. my mother tells that i was three, or maybe four, when snoopy came up the front walk on halloween and i began to cry. i've always loved snoopy.
eight or nine years ago i bought myself a witch's hat and cape. i wear them every year - along with a set of green plastic fingers - but i'm thinking about upgrading my hat next year. the cape is pretty wonderful - floor length and all billowing out behind me as i walk. i'd sort of love to wear it every day, if a person could get away with walking around in a polyester cape on any old tuesday.
maybe next year, too, we'll have pumpkins. or something. this year, there was nothing. no pumpkin carving, no pumpkin painting. i haven't even made pumpkin muffins yet.
it turns out that i am a person who requires a setting. an old friend reminded me of this recently - that i'm never really ready for any holiday until the table is set. that it's the very act of setting the table (table as metaphor. you understand that, yes?) that moves me into the holiday spirit. halloween doesn't really have a table, but thankfully there are costumes.
lucy went as a baby. she's been talking about it for months and months, and when we went to the party store to buy the pacifier she wanted for her costume we got scared - and i mean scream-out-loud-and-jump-out-of-your-skin scared, both of us - by a person pretending to be a statue. and it turned out that they didn't have what we wanted at the party store anyway.
bennett went as a physicist. a mad-scientist type. he pulled his costume together at the last minute with a lab coat and glasses from the dress-up box. it's a good thing we still have a dress-up box.
i think it's time to brush my teeth and make some pumpkin muffins and move on toward high-autumn. soups and risottos and pumpkin muffins and thanksgiving. i do love thanksgiving.