Discourse, Or Rant?

I started to call it "Doggone People Who Don't Have Children or, having them, won't let them go trick-or-treating." I exquisitely understand why people won't let their children go running around after dark by themselves or in packs. But my one lone little tiny trick-or-treater last night was accompanied by her daddy. Now, was that too hard?

I also understand that most of the people in my neighborhood are nearly as old as I am, or are young singles looking for cheap old houses, thus don't have children hanging around. Why don't some of these old folks adopt their grandchildren, like civilized people? If I had grandchildren, -- no, I wouldn't adopt them. But I might let them visit once in a while.

But across the street from me lives a young couple who have three doorstep kids, Tiny, Little and Middle-Size. And one of the finest dogs I've ever seen. When they moved into that house several years ago, I visited and introduced and invited, but have the couple ever been here? No. Have the kids ever crossed the street? No. The dog was here once, and I treated him like a king. But the people, never. I know they know that I'm friendly, because I wave every time I see them playing in their yard or toting in their groceries.

I've a good notion to take this basket of candy across the street and strew it all around their property. That'll show 'em.

Go and Get the Candy Corn!

Tomorrow's Halloween, and no treats in the house. That's all right, though; I also forgot to buy rice yesterday, so I have to go to the store today anyway.

Also yesterday, I started binding the leaf quilt, and found that I'm short one package of bias binding. Seems like I'm always forgetting something. Hope I'm not losing my head.

 

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Boo!

Welcome, November!

Boy'm I glad Halloween (the whole month of October) is over! Everything on TV was haints and horror, and old reruns of Project Runway.

Counting Reed Sunday night, I had six trick-or-treaters, three of them in one visit. So there's the great bowl still full of every kind of Tootsie Roll candy ever made. I kept urging the little ghosties to "take some more--don't you want another Tootsie Roll pop?" But they were all too polite to be greedy.

The weekend was sort of fun and sort of disappointing. On Saturday, Jed and I went to Montevallo U. to the ASPS Fall Awards luncheon. I signed up to sponsor a spring contest, to the tune of eighty bucks. As to awards, I won an honorable mention (aargh!) and a second prize, out of all those good poems I entered. At least I thought they were good; the most disappointing thing was my wondering if they weren't so good, after all. But, compared to the winning poems that were read aloud, I believe they're pretty great.

Like a fool, I left my keys at home and all the doors locked. So Jed had to break the foyer door to the stairs. So now I've got to go to Lowe's and buy a door and get them to install it.

So, this morning I paid bills, and finished all the painting for the doll house, and started washing the heaps of dirty laundry. Yesterday, besides the 2-pound bag of treats, I bought allergy masks, gloves, and other supplies for cleaning the back room of the basement, which I plan to finish up this week.

Shirley S., my first landlord at the Southside apartment, once said that she liked for everything to be fun. I managed to make the nose surgery sound like fun while it was going on, so maybe I can get a laugh or two out of cleaning the basement. Speaking of the nose surgery, today I received a bill for $300 due after Viva and Medicare paid their parts. It's always something.

Halloween and All

I had so many trick-or-treaters, I had to search the cabinets for remnants of packages of taffy, peppermints, and some old miniature Hershey bars--not that old but not brand new.

Yesterday evening I cooked a beef roast, and today made gravy on the pan drippings. And I learned not to eat a heavy meal and then try to write. Didn't get anything done on the book this afternoon; I just caught up my poetry files on the prize-winners and those that didn't win. I do write better at night, anyway, and I hope to make some progress this evening.

I'm going to take a long walk every morning from now on. This weather is heavenly--though I'm half afraid to say so. Seems like every time I wax poetic about the weather, a short time later we get a tornado or floods.

"Once more into the breach..."

This morning I started writing another November novel. I didn't hook up with NaNoWriMo, and I intend for this to be a closet piece. It's about a certain family, including a marriage and a divorce, and it's purely for therapy. I knew I'd have to write it eventually before I could do anything else important. They say you have to write a million unsuccessful words before you learn enough to write something good. I expect I really have written at least half that much. Probably more. Have I learned anything? "Ahem," as they say. That's another word I hate--it really is a dictionary word.

I did get a few trick-or-treaters last night, and they were all little kids. I don't like it when groups of teenagers storm the porch.

My Fussy Valentine

He threw the mask in the trash, but Jerry found it. Val was miffed because he had to wear his old blue boots. I couldn't be bothered to make new boots for Halloween; maybe for Christmas.

All Set for Trick-or-Treat

If I can just keep my claws out of the candy jar.



Today I've eaten two bananas and a tomato. So for dinner I'm going to treat myself to a big old Matlock-chokin' hot dog.

Details of wreath (shrunken apple-heads):

Halloween swap

These are the items in the Halloween swap package that I sent to Cindy. I forget the date, but it was before Oct. 15--table runner, jack-o'-lantern votive holder, package of pumpkin candles, black cat card, black crocheted doily, trick-or-treat bucket.

Day Of the Slow Soaking Rain

This morning I did laundry, and listed and repriced a bunch of books. I also washed and froze a HUGE sale package of chicken tenders, in eight smaller packages. Now the freezer has steak, pork ribs, chicken, whole wheat burger buns, and an unopened sack of blueberries. So I'm all set for Great Depression II, as long as it doesn't last more than 2-3 weeks.

This afternoon I WILL finish the Hallowe'en thing, and work some more on the painting. That reminds me of a poem, "Walt Whitman's Nose," only I haven't written it yet. Why do old people's noses get so big? Well, of course. It's because of all the lies we've told. Lies turn into cartilage (sp?).

Wednesday was the deadline for mailing the Hallowe'en swap packages. Can't wait to get mine. Hope it has some candy corn in it. The one I mailed didn't have any candy of any kind, so I probably won't get any either.

Tomorrow the LHS Class of 1953 will have its year 55 reunion. I hope she never reads this, but whoever wrote the invitation said that we will also meet Sunday morning for breakfast at the "Crackle Barrel."

In the Groove

I don't know much of anything to write about today.
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I signed up for Susan's Hallowe'en swap project, have received the name and address of the person my project will go to, and have selected a whole pile of fabrics to work with for the main gift. The whole pile won't be used, just the ones that fit my design.
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The picture has nothing to do with anything, except that it's one of the most attractive things in the house. It makes me want to write a poem. It makes me want to paint a picture. I may try to paint something like it, once I get into the groove. The standing Indian reminds me of Daddy, and the kneeling one of Henry Whitner.
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I wish I had a recording of that old Tommy or Jimmy Dorsey tune (In the Groove). Can probably find it online.

Little ghouls and goblins

Had some cute little trick-or-treaters earlier, then one big group of teens a few minutes ago. The costumes get better and better. Two tiny black boys, maybe twins, had on white-on-black skeleton costumes. Their mama was with them, and when she told them to say thank you, they both puffed up their chests, glared at me, and roared in big scarey voices, "Thaaank youuuuu!"