BOO!

I've mentioned this before, but I love Halloween. Probably more now than I did as a kid. That could be because being the architect of my own night is way more satisfying than having to wear the same clown costume for four years in a row until I finally outgrew it and could be what I wanted to be - the witch that my sister had been for 4 years until she finally outgrew her costume.

Oh, don't get me wrong - I loved Halloween back then too - filling my bag with my neighbour's loot, then driving to my aunt's neighbourhood and filling another bag with her neighbour's loot, then driving back home to sort out all the loot. There was a clear candy heirarchy going on: chocolate bars enjoyed the upper eschelons of supreme candiness, then kraft caramels, then chips, then gum, then rockets, then the assorted candies, and last - and definitely least - candy kisses, those plasticized nuggets of grossness wrapped in orange and black waxpaper with scenes of witches on them.
We would count, trade, gloat or sulk as necessary, offer my mum the requisite Caramilk and Aero bars, and let the real crap sit in the bottom of the bag until around January, when it would finally be thrown out.

I enjoyed many successes at Halloween over the years, but there were a couple of shaky moments, like when I peed in my pants at my grade 6 Halloween party, dressed in my friend's mom's old prom dress (a bunch of us gals were 50's era teeny boppers that year), because I was laughing so hard at something stupid. Or in grade 8, when I thought I was dressing up like Charlie Chaplin, that loveable tramp, but ended up looking more like Hitler. Or that first Halloween after me and Chris had moved in together - I was so excited to be living in a house again (albeit in the basement apartment of the house), and would actually have a front door that neighbourhood kids could come to. So, I decorate our door, which is really only 5 steps down, put an orange bulb in the light outside the door, which illuminates nicely my elaborately carved jack o'lantern, and buy the really good candy. And wait. And wait. And wait. And I can hear the little brats going upstairs to the main door, but no one - not a one of them venture down the 5 steps to my festive, welcoming apartment. So I go outside to give out the candy, but not for long, as this just feels a little desperate. I'm pretty sure I ate all that candy I had bought that night.

But we've just celebrated our 2 year move-in anniversary in our house, and our 3rd Halloween here is coming up. I can't wait, but it's getting a bit late and I don't have much of a plan yet. What plan? you might be asking. You might be asking why we don't just buy the candy, put out the pumpkin and bob's your uncle, right?

No way! We need a plan. We have standards, and ours have been set high. The first Halloween here I was in my first trimester and totally pukey, but we still managed to do this:



Last year bumblebee was here, and I was excited to get her in on the action, so I did this:





and we did this:







Fun, huh?

So this year, we gotta... well, we'll think of something. At least bumblebee's costume is in the works, and I have a back-up just in case. Of course, she's been wearing her back-up all week because she loves it, and at this rate I'm not sure it'll make it to Halloween if we need it. Oh well, more motivation to get the glue gun out and get creating. (there will be no sewing involved. ever.)

Anyway, I'll keep you posted, and hey! If you're in the neighbourhood on Halloween, drop by - I'll have the good candy.