I had this theory that I could save money buying costumes at 90% discount a few weeks after Halloween. 2012 was the first year I tried my theory out- I had the chickens buy some costumes they liked and packed them away. At the time, I had no idea that we would be celebrating this non-holiday in North Florida.
We got to Lulu two weeks before Halloween, with no idea where to trick-or-treat, and no idea what to do on the night. But...we were invited to a fabulous party put on by Ashley Cox and her mother, Cindy Douglas. I didn't know them very well at that point, but we jumped in, ready to go, ready to make friends. (I think I've done so much jumping in over the past three years that I's an inch shorter. I've put myself out there!)
This is the problem with buying costumes a year early- children change their minds. What looked great the year before seems pathetic when examined in the light of present likes and dislikes. Bowden- I cant even remember what he was. Oh, right. See that first picture up there? He wore his fake bearskin rug. He went as a bear. The other kids were game to wear what they picked out, but it was a pretty pathetic experiment.
I think, too, that the creative process of deciding "what you will be" this year is where the real fun of Halloween is.
Popular posts from this blog
In September, we were gifted a wonderful stay at a fellow pastor's vacation home- a lovely little pink house with shells everywhere and two huge rooms just perfect for all of us. We were just a walk away from the white sands and calm, clear ocean, and we spent more time than my pale and sand-hating husband understood, but it was just lovely. I have pictures on my phone, but I only pulled out my big camera for these few on the first day.
It had a fenced yard for the dog, a golf cart to drive us the two blocks beachward and lots and lots of shells and quality family time. This was the trip that we watched Knight Rider together, so that's notable.
This is our fourth summer in Florida- a number that amazes me. I still don't feel at home here, although I know my way around. I don't feel completely out of place in the supermarket, but I have this suspicion that everyone knows I'm not from here, and they know that they don't know me. That special kind of paranoia belongs to the homesick, and even while I acknowledge its foolishness, I still feel it.
Summers- I may have mentioned this before- are the worst.
It's partly an issue of comfort, or rather, of discomfort. The long summer days are hot and sticky, the bugs are ravenous and abundant, the plants are vindictive with thorns and poison, and the air itself is attempting to decompose your body 37% faster than air in dryer climes.* If there is a spring or pool to soak yourself in, it's fine, pleasant, even, because there are no ticks in the water, and you can usually avoid mosquitoes under the water. To Florida's credit, there are any nu…