I almost decided to do nothing for Halloween this year, with the pandemic and whatnot. My frequent walks around the neighborhood changed my mind. I have enjoyed seeing others’ decorations and jack-o-lanterns so much, I wanted to join in. My husband and son-in-residence were game. The spider is mine. I found a design on the internet and modified it a little; I’m not really that artistic. The 8-bit face is my son’s, and the goofy Jack is my husband’s freehand design.
Currently, these are by our front steps. This evening, I’ll move them out near the sidewalk (we have a deep yard) and put out a small table with Halloween treats and a sign for trick-or-treaters to help themselves. That way, there’s no bunching up on the porch. Ghosts and goblins will have more space to spread out and be safe.
I like Halloween. It’s fun to be scared just a little, and I have a dark sense of humor. Plus, what’s more enjoyable than dressing up in costumes and sharing treats?
Speaking of scary, here’s a short list of real world things that frighten me on a regular basis, not just once a year.
I won’t walk on them if I can avoid it. Laugh at me all you want. I’m always convinced I’ll fall through if I step on one. It happens, folks.
Driving behind cement mixers.
The slow spin feels ominous to me, as if it’s building up to something. Maybe something like suddenly spewing wet cement, entrapping my car, or at least causing me to wreck. My brain contains a full library of images of what exactly could happen to my vehicle in the event of an unscheduled cement truck discharge, which is also a thing that happens.
Driving behind car carriers.
You know those trucks with the automotive shelving units trailing behind? The ones where multiple cars are chained to ramps that point right down at whoever happens to be following them. I hate getting stuck behind those, watching the half dozen or more cars bounce around, wondering how strong those chains are, and trying to formulate startegies to avoid a pile up if some driverless sedans break their bonds and come zooming head-on in my direction. Guess what? It’s happened.
Exploding Biscuit Cans
I don’t know if one has ever injured or killed a person, but every time I open one, my heart rate soars, my breathing becomes rapid and shallow, and I jump almost out of my skin at the noise. This is what I imagine, every time:
In this case, Halloween. This year, I’m saying “Boo” over my work schedule, which keeps me occupied until nine o’clock Halloween night.
When my kids were younger, we took them trick-or-treating every year, whatever the weather. Umbrellas exist for a reason, after all. Then we’d have a party at our house with their friends and the friends’ parents.
Before we even had children, the spouse and I carved jack-o-lanterns. In the years since my kids have outgrown trick-or-treating, I still have loads of fun passing out candy and seeing the trick-or-treaters in their costumes. I guess my husband gets all the fun this year. But I did get my pumpkin carved: