Jack-O-Lantern

I remember two specific houses that I always wanted to avoid when trick-or-treating as a kid. One was a woman down the street who would take a dime, a cotton ball, a piece of orange tissue paper and make little mini jack-o-lanterns with the dime as the flat base, the cotton on top wrapped tightly with orange tissue and the face drawn on with black marker. Borrrrrring. Yet, she was so before her time. That would be something I would find today on Pinterest. As a kid though, I thought it was such a waste. A dime? Really. I got more from the tooth fairy, and that was not saying much.

The second house was about five streets back where the houses were larger and usually occupied by doctors and dentists. I knew most everyone in my neighborhood due to the afternoon newspaper I delivered to a large percentage of the neighborhood, and the many, many years of Girl Scout cookies I sold. This particular house was owned by a dentist and again, borrrring. They did not hand out apples, but rather Bazooka gum. Which out of all the gums it was more of the sugary kind, but I was not a gum girl. I guess gum, even with a little sugar, was better then getting a dime on Halloween.

I do remember one year when I was the last kid to the dentist’s house, or maybe they were just done for the night. They gave me the rest of their bag of Bazooka. That was like winning the lottery as a kid, especially as a kid who rarely had candy and treats at home. I took it home and of course hid it from my sister and brother. I learned early on that to share meant it would be gone in moments and I would have to wait until next year. In our house when treats were like water in the desert, you found ways to hide your bounty. Funny how “hiding” meant under your pillow. I am sure I had many lumpy nights of sleep. Until many months later when my sister and I found the bag of Bazooka under my bed, hard as a rock. It must have fallen under the bed while I slept and I had forgotten about that gum. There was no way that we could ever chew any of it, the entire bag like tiny bricks. An interesting thing that happens when you do not share. Sometimes your bounty just goes to waste.

#Halloweenlessons

Ah, the fun of Halloween. You get to dress up and be someone else for the day. The leaves are falling off the trees, the ground is covered in the colorful array of leaves. Homes are decorated with lights, jack-o-lanterns, ghosts, and goblins. It is really the beginning of the holiday season of festivities. Halloween, Thanksgiving, and Christmas. (Yes, I left out Black Friday, that is not a holiday, but like Halloween it can be just as scary).

It is good to have a day where we can pretend to be someone else. Often we work so hard just trying to be ourselves, that even adults can even get excited to get to play dress up once in a while. We even like to be creative and carve our own jack-o-lanterns. I love this photo of me watching our finished pumpkins turned jack-o-lanterns.

my excitement over jack-o-lanterns

(Be sure to note the pea colored refrigerator and I can assure you that while you cannot see it, there is wood paneling behind me. You can also see the head of the baby doll I am holding). Cutting pumpkins to me was like dying easter eggs, a process, but one of tradition around a certain day of the year. I was always in awe.

We would decide which pumpkin to carve, then draw on the design we were going to cut out, then the messy part of clearing out the guts and goop inside. Once it was cleaned out then it was time to carve. I have never been quite proficient with a sharp knife (Chris can attest to that). So I am not sure my creations were always superb, as artistic as I may have been, my lack of knife skills = poor pumpkin carving. Then adding the candle and putting the lid on top.

I cannot remember that much about the costumes I selected, although I do know one year I was a clown. We always had homemade costumes. What I remember most, and who knows why, was this one house in my neighborhood. I can remember the name of the family, and that they had a courtyard at the front of their house. They outfitted it with spooky music, Halloween lights and decorations, and would have people hiding in the bushes. You never knew what would happen from year to year, and it was always dark out. My memory of it was that it was the scariest house on Halloween. The fact that I can still picture it tells me that they designed it well. I was always impressed with myself if I could make it through the squeaky gate, down the courtyard path to the front door. Then if I made it that far and actually attained the candy then I knew I was brave that year. Candy at scary neighborhood house = I could conquer any fear.

I am hoping to make it home in time for the trick-or-treaters this year. It will be the first time as an adult that I am in a neighborhood that has kids to come door-to-door. Can you tell I am giddy about it?

Trick or treat!