Already Counting the Days Until Next Hallowe'en

Hallowe'en here at Tumbledown is sometimes all about the pumpkins.

If you don't know this yet about me, Hallowe'en is my fave holiday of the year. It's gotten more so as I've aged, and each time it nears I'm reminded of every Ray Bradbury story I've ever read and my head spins with his images.

To me it's all about the atmosphere.

Now it's usually more about the 'creepy' than the 'cute.'

In past years my holiday decor consisted of pumpkins, gourds, jack-o-lanterns, scarf-draped lamps and tarot cards, flickering candles and mulled cider and Ouija boards. But since James moved in with me all that has changed.

James is an old-school, 'slasher film' kinda Hallowe'en guy. And a Young Frankenstein kinda Hallowe'en guy. There's humor in his holiday, and a healthy pinch of gore. He's not above the pop-up-and-scare-you stuff (at which I draw the line). And a trip to a seasonal Hallowe'en outlet with him is 'interesting.'

Left on our own, I will go directly to the atmospheric stuff (The candelabra! The fringed black tablerunners!), but James wants the crawling zombie animatronic. He wants the clacking and sparking lab device, the knife switches, the bubbling beakers with their contents of fake bloody body parts. He wants the quaking tombstones and the screaming wraiths....

So I've taken to divvying up the house: I get the inside, he gets the outside. And then I tweak all that he does because I'm a Hallowe'en control freak.

Mr. Bones relaxes by the fire.

This year, one of our first holiday purchases was a full-size skeleton. I've always wanted one, and I've held out over the years until I could find something that looked 'just right.' (There are a lot of skellies out there, but the bulk of them just look cheesy....)

Before we even got him home I'd already named him Mr. Bones. Not original, I know, but when I first saw him in the store I couldn't help but say, "Ahhhh, we meet again, Meestah Bohnz!" (Admit it; not even you can say his name without sounding like a Bond villain.) And not surprisingly, the name stuck. What can I say?....

This looks equally nice as a mantel scarf!

In the same picture (above) you can kind of see the lamp on my fireplace mantel. You may or may not be able to see that it's a real working electric meter, but that's not the part I want to show you. This year I spookified my mantel lamp with a fringy black valance from a curtain set that I'd bought at a Hallowe'en store once upon a time. (I wasn't sure then what I was going to do with it or if I'd ever use it, but it's better to be safe than sorry, right?). I ran a shoelace through the spaces in the top of the valance where a curtain rod would go, and then I tied the ends of the shoelace together before draping the whole thing over the lampshade. When it was in place, I finger-pleated the curtain. Voila! :)

I love the result, don't you?

While I was playing around indoors, James was busy in the front garden, stomping my sedum and artemesia into fragrant dust while negotiating the logistics of the fog machine. And then there were tombstones to hook up to it, obelisks to arrange, and battery-operated Angels of Death to suspend from my garden hooks -- all before the trick-or-treaters were due to arrive.

This season we discovered a creation at the Goodwill that we refer to now as 'Cocoon Man.' It's a vaguely body-shaped lump wrapped in fake spiderweb. The thing I love about it is that even though it's battery-operated to do stuff, it's still pretty low key for an animatronic. No deafening sound effects. No stupid cackling voice shrieking things like, "Get me out of here!" (I could never figure out why it's not enough for Hallowe'en decorations to just look cool....)

The photo doesn't do him justice, but you get the idea.

At first we were going to simply suspend Cocoon Man by his feet from a tree branch. But I couldn't help thinking how much better he'd look hanging vertical inside the lighted archway that I normally keep inside my house by the front door. (Yes, it's a Hallowe'en prop, too, but I didn't have the heart to pack it away; it's just too cool. And leaving it outside year 'round was out of the question, and not because I care at all what the neighbor's think. I just didn't want it to fall prey to the Minne-snow-tah elements.)

After combining Cocoon Man with the archway, I again couldn't help thinking how much better he'd look with some more of my tweaking. I entwined the arch with a swag of black plastic maple leaves, then wrapped Cocoon Man in more spiderweb before sprinkling him with a few plastic spiders. Then I affixed a large furry spider (it has a funny face, so I'm guessing it was originally meant as a table decoration) to his throat to make it look as though Big Mama spider had chosen him as dinner for her spiderlings. Mwa-ha-haaaaa. I had no idea that the whole effect would look so awesome come nighttime....

Cheap top hat + valance + eyeliner = costume

Since I was knee-deep in the doldrums at the time, I had little interest in doing more for the holiday than we already had. However, five minutes before our first trick-or-treater was due, I found the interest and energy to cook up a quick costume. One floppy top hat (again from the Goodwill; this one had the word 'Bridegroom' across the front of it, but I blacked the letters out with marker), one additional black lace curtain valance, some liquid eyeliner and I was good to go.

Three dozen trick-or-treaters and a handful of Addams Family TV-series reruns later and Cocoon Man and the rest of his graveyard friends were back inside, awaiting their return to the basement again until next year.

Sadly, our trick-or-treater count was down from seasons past. James thinks that our usual Goth teens have grown up and moved on, and he hopes that we're somehow inspiring Hallowe'en-lovin' little ones to return in future. At least a couple ventured forth with their parents this year and whispered shyly to James that they 'love our house,' so it was nice to know that all James's work was noticed....

And I say 'James's work' because he really did do the bulk of it. I felt bad that because of my mood this year I was unable to do much of the stuff I usually do for Hallowe'en. No pinky-grey Jell-O molded to look like a human brain. No paper lunchbags inkstamped with witchy images and filled full for the trick-or-treaters. No Body Bag Tacos or cauldron brimming with green margaritas. No haunted house sounds moaning from the stereo speakers.... I'm blaming it all on a bout of Post-Fest doldrums followed by a month that was all about obligation when it should've been about recovery...

But I have high hopes for next year.
:)

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Lest you think I've forgotten, today's additions to the Thankfulness List are:

1.) A birthday that's in the month of October.
2.) Leftover Hallowe'en candy.
3.) Ray Bradbury and how he gets into my head more than ever each autumn.
4.) Actress Carolyn Jones' oh-so-curvy Morticia Addams.
5.) A guy in my life who doesn't mind putting away the Hallowe'en flotsam. (Thank you, James!)

Election Day

It's 1 a.m. on Election Day and I'm almost too excited to sleep....

Moments ago I stood outside under the overcast sky. I sensed the ghosts of suffragettes. And I prayed for the best possible outcome for the American people.

The entire neighborhood was asleep so I spoke my words aloud, and the wind freshened before my prayer was even ended. The air chilled. I felt the occasionally droplet on my skin. And now as I type I can hear gusts blowing rain against the windows. Whatever. If it snows tomorrow, I'll still be standing in line at the little brick elementary school down the street, waiting my turn....

So today it's no surprise that I'm especially thankful for the brave women throughout history who fought so hard and risked so much so that I may vote.

Ladies, you are in my thoughts today.
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Whoops! Woe! Work! Whew!

The weekend had a lot of blah in it, and it's all my own fault....

I was in the process yesterday of finishing an art piece that I've worked on periodically since before Fest was even over for the season, and -- wouldn't you know it! -- as my mind wandered and my hand worked, I watched my own self make an error that I couldn't correct.

No electric eraser was gonna come to my rescue as this was a big old ink error. I cursed creatively. I beat myself up. I appealed to the art gods. I weighed my options. I couldn't figure out how to incorporate my mistake. And I couldn't bear to take an X-Acto knife to it and mortise in a solution. So I shut the door on it all and walked away.

But inside I knew what I had to do; I just didn't want to do it. And there was no time to think creatively, as the piece would be my gift to my grandson, whose first birthday party was scheduled for today. 

 

Within minutes of realizing my error, I phoned my daughter and explained the situation, and she completely understood if I was unable to finish the gift on time.... But I was less understanding. I couldn't cut myself the slack! Maybe I could have somehow if what had happened to it was an accident. But this was an error of 'seeing.' I'd literally drawn something incorrectly and then inked in my mistake, and I couldn't forgive myself. I knew better.

 

I would have to start all over again.

 

So all night long I worked -- retracing what I could salvage and redrawing what I couldn't, then blocking out my color choices, inking in my pencil work, and rendering the color. And drinking coffee, too. And watching hoaky late-night television.... 

 

I couldn't leave anything until morning. PartyTime was noon, and I was afraid that if I went to bed at all I'd oversleep. The piece was eventually framed at 5:00 a.m. and I debated even bothering going to bed at that hour. But then I realized that it was Daylight Saving Time -- sleep was mine after all! Yes, it was just an hour, but it was a dipped-in-GOLD hour. 

 

Now the party's over. The gift's been given and received. And seeing the finished piece satisfies me. That being said, today I'm thankful for:

• The big clunky x-ray viewer that I use for a lightbox. (Beats heck out of the pane of window glass and the desk-lamp-on-the-floor-at-my-feet that I used to use.)
• Autumn Daylight Saving Time!
• Waking up not feeling hungover-ish from sleep deprivation.
• A corner slice of birthday cake. (Three times the frosting!)
• A grandson so handsome that I could just kiss his face off.

See? Most beautiful boy EVER.

:)

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It's Beginning to Look a Lot Like Thankfulness

This looks Christmassy to me....

Just last week I was standing at the counter in a local McDonalds and noticed that Christmas-inspired McFlurries were now being offered and advertised, and I had a mini fit.

I get that the Christmas buck is the biggest, but please can't we take the year one holiday at a time? I thought to myself, "Hey! There's a Hallowe'en to enjoy first, and don't forget Thanksgiving."

Poor Thanksgiving....

Because of that moment at McDonalds I've since decided that Thanksgiving needs its due. And to honor it proper I've made the commitment to create a daily list of things I'm thankful for. Every day from now through the month of November.

(And before you begin thinking that this might suck for you as a Not-So-Daily Maily reader, please know that I've got so much on my plate right now that posting here every day will be difficult, so I will be keeping the bulk of my list to myself. However, I urge you to make one with me, and I would love it if you shared your daily entries!)

So here it is -- November Oneth. And today I'm feeling thankful for:

• Leftover Hallowe'en candy.
• Hot water and a deep bathtub.
• Squash soup for supper.
• A mood that can almost see a pinpoint of light at the end of its dark tunnel.
• YOU.

:)
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Happy Hallowe'en

Time's playing tricks again; suddenly it's one of my favorite days of the year. And now that it's here I don't want to miss a single moment of it....

These early morning hours are brittle. Overhead, the Woman in the Moon is full and fabulous, and the stars pinned to her velvet cloak are brilliant. Standing in her light, I can hear leaf rustlings and smell woodsmoke. And I can taste winter on the wind....

Tomorrow there will be tombstones to set up and trick-or-treat bags to fill, a pumpkin to carve and a front door to flock in spiderweb. But for now, some sleep is in order.

So may I be the first to wish you a very special Hallowe'en, my friend, and share my hopes for a new year that is full of promise and prosperity.

Let the magick begin!

:)
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Inching Forward

It's a late October day of clouds.

The neighborhood's been fairly silent this afternoon. No deafening leaf blowers and lawn mowers, no droning street sweepers and wood chippers. Just birdsong. And the static crackle of leaves dancing down the street.

My house is dark and still, as though not even I am here. I have no substance today.

My invisibility has been coming on steadily by degrees since before Fest was even over. At that time I'd been reduced to just a hologram, powered by a rechargeable battery that was in the process of irrevocably losing its memory. Every smile started out bright and began fading at once, and it hurt significantly just to pull enough juice from somewhere to generate another.

And today there are few smiles. My post-Fest agenda has burned me out completely. It's been a difficult month....

But I think it's a good sign that for the last five minutes I've been writing.

I may feel depleted. I may feel as though my well's gone dry. But it amuses me to notice that as soon as I'm able to function at all it's not a sketch pad and a pencil that I turn to. It's not even my books or my pets or my music. It's words.

And who do I write to? You.

I have missed you.

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Snowflakes and Smiles

(Would you believe we're supposed to be napping?)

There are snowflakes in my village today! Only a few, but still.

And I have yet to pay attention proper to my favorite season of the year, so if they know what's good for them, they'd better make their visit brief. Just sayin'.

Because there are still loose Fest-related ends to gather and tie, belated birthdays to celebrate, Halloween flotsam to gleefully wade through, and so much battening down of hatches to do before the snow comes.

And dang if this girl's battery isn't down for the count....

But it's not so depleted that I can't enjoy a Bug Day. And yesterday was IT. I got to pick my eldest Bug up from preschool and hold her mittened hand all the way back to my house, stopping repeatedly to check out fairy-sized holes in oak trees and add acorn caps to our pockets. Every step of our walk was a cold and blustery adventure, its soundtrack one of wind in the trees and the crunch of leaf piles underfoot and the enthusiastic, run-on sentence delightfulness that is the Grandbug's communication style, itself animated dramatically and told in notes that only dogs can hear.

Before our coats were even off at our destination she was cleaning pet dishes and dispensing foodstuffs (she takes her jobs at my house uber-seriously), and then we were on the floor together, re-enacting at her suggestion her favorite moments of this year's Festival. A stuffed chicken became the Piccolo Pony. A toy firetruck was the ladder for our dolls to mount it. (One doll was afraid she'd fall, but another said in a cute cartoon voice, "I will hold onto you. You'll see -- it's FUN.") Then a plastic bowl became the Butterfly Ride. As Avery gently twirled the bowl in the air she said to me, "Gramma, remember when you took me on the Butterfly Ride? That ride was awesome." (Said with her characteristic lisp -- 'awe-thumb.' The ride is a no-frills device made to rotate as a result of two adults in the center pushing it manually. This girl has already been on theme park stuff that would give me nightmares, but she remembers the Butterfly Ride. And it was awesome....)

Later on, Grampa James surprised her by arriving home early (I'm not the only one who thinks a Bug Day is worth dropping everything for) and he suggested we all bundle up and walk to nearby Hardees for lunch. Avery explained to him that her walk with me from preschool earlier was all fun and stuff but "my armth and legth and feet and handth got really really tired!", so he dug the stroller out from the garage and tucked her into it for the trip. Hamburgers got cold what with all the excited talking, but milk was consumed so I called it a satisfactory lunch. And on the way home we took a more scenic route and I asked her what her favorite part of the day was so far and she said, "All of it."

Once back again at Tumbledown, Avery informed us that she was tired and demanded that all three of us cram into my bed for a nap. But a book must be read first, of course. Bless her, she picked Where's Waldo and searched each page with serious intent, which allowed me and Grampa to, ahem, 'rest our eyes' in turn. (Because there's a brand of tired that only Bugs can manufacture, and it'll knock.you.OUT.)

No napping occurred. No surprises there. But there's just something about spending a chilly Autumn afternoon curled up on a candlewick bedspread with a book and a Bug.

I may have felt even more tired afterward, but my heart was charged to the absolute max. :)
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