I recall a time when year after year, the first entry of the month of candy found me begging forgiveness in advance. It was the time of year when dressing as a ghoul was the thing to do every Friday and Saturday night. This left less time for all the other responsibilities that required my attention, so this journal was neglected. The hayride has since been discontinued. I have moved on, but Halloween still holds a special place in my heart. I have already made one costume this year for myself, so I had a little extra time to work on grim reaper costume for a friend of mine. This is a little more difficult without being able to try the outfit onto the intended wearer, but I think I may have completed the necessary alterations. We'll see, I guess.

The chill in the air brings a smile to my face. I know I am persuaded to smile by the promise of cloaks, costumes, crafts, and cocoa. We're almost halfway to one of my favorite holidays and that means three whole months of holiday preparation. My fingers are feeling a little raw from some of my craft projects and I still have to decide what I might make for those on the special Christmas list. My hobbit sweatshop has produced two completed items. I hope to finish another as I slowly work my way through the other projects I have set for myself. I could say more, but then this would not be mysterious.

So what have I been doing for two weeks?

I attended a friend's wedding reception. I intended to make it to the wedding, but I got myself and my husband lost again. Luckily for me, he is very forgiving. I wish I had taken some better photos, but the best photo I would have taken was ruined by someone else jumping in front of my camera. Of course, it will probably be another month or so before I remember to get the pictures off of my camera anyway.

I also got to fight with some carpet installers. I informed them that I could not reschedule. I even told them to make a note in the file. Despite this, they called me about thirteen hours before they were scheduled to arrive and tried to convince us to reschedule. I explained the situation again and got very aggravated response. Then they told me they would call back after they talked to their workmen. Needless to say, they decided not to reschedule after my husband and I passed the phone around and refused to budge. I admit that I am flexible when I can be, but I tend to have my weekends pretty tightly booked when I go out to visit. I probably have hundreds of friends that I still haven't got a chance to visit during our trips back, despite visiting with about nine of them on our last excursion. I do the best I can though, so no one should be upset.

I have also been struggling with a recalcitrant computer. I seem to have enraged it somehow. Well, it was being disgruntled, but it is working again. Who knows what I did? I certainly don't know. I ran about three different types of scans over and over until it stopped being a pUTZ. Ah, the joys of being me.

I also visited two Halloween stores. I left each of them with a wig in hand. I may be as surprised as everyone else by whatever the final masterpiece is. I feel I should wear one of the wigs. I also feel that the dress I made out of some old curtains needs a public viewing. Of course, Halloween falls on a Sunday this year and the last time I went to church in a costume, I got in trouble. Of course, dressing as Eowyn required a sword (and no elf ears since everyone was convinced I was saying Arwen) so that was to be expected, I suppose. We'll see if I can behave myself this year, won't we?

The husband and I continue to work on a little project I should call threads everywhere. In my efforts to repurpose some of the clothing items that have been waiting for my motivation, I have been having quite a bit of fun with scissors and a seam ripper. My hands are not appreciative of my efforts. Seam rippers make a pretty good stabbing weapon. I almost remember a day when this would have inspired the weaponry of my imaginary world. Those days are far behind me, but sometimes I remember them and giggle to myself.

We took a break from our insanity to see Red. Without spoiling it for those who expect to see it soon, I believe I can make a few observations. First, I was a little worried that it might inspire the old people who joined us in the theater to get violent. Luckily, they seemed pretty docile. One of them was even asleep and snoring before the previews started to roll. Second, I think my mom may have other competitors for Morgan Freeman's number one fan. I saw quite a few old ladies in the theater in small groups, without male escorts. Third, I hope to be a feisty old lady someday. I am actually pretty sure it will happen. It runs in the family.

In other news, my computer continues to be dead. I think it signed a DNR form and didn't inform me. This means I bounce between my husband's laptop and my beloved Linux box. Sadly, I am still sure the video card and ethernet card are planning to stop working permanently sometime, so I can't rely on my old girlfriend to offer me solace. I suppose I should really commit myself to finding a new tool of mass amusement, but I am not feeling motivated for some reason. Anyway, I feel that is the end of my spiel for today. If one wanted more entertainment, however, they could probably find it in one of the my extraneous journals...

Another costume holiday is upon us. Sadly, I have only attired myself in one outfit this year. It is a far cry from Octobers full of haunted hayrides and various venues for showing off my other personalities. Luckily, I had a party to attend last night that gave me cause to wear a costume, and I will get to wear the same one or another one as I toss candy and Rice Krispy treats at ghouls and goblins who show up at my door.

As always, I find myself questioning some of the actions I witnessed last night. The first one is why parents think going to a church activity means someone else will be watching out for their kids. I know some children are mature enough to take care of themselves, but others probably need a little help getting food from a buffet table. This was displayed last night as food got knocked off of the table when the children behind me were jostling impatiently. Someone was kind enough to slice a tiny sliver of cheesecake for me, so I wouldn't have to find a precarious position for my plate. Her husband was telling her she didn't need to do that rather irritably at the time. I admit that I could have cut my own piece of cheesecake, but I doubt the little kids behind me had the same capability. I didn't go back in to see what the aftermath was, but I imagine more than just the cupcakes got yo meet the ground. The idea of yummy desserts going to waste is more frightening than even I can handle.

I was also confused by the food acquisition arrangements. A picnic table against the wall was loaded with various chillis. Another one directly across from it (which was, for all intents and purposes, against another wall) was loaded with hot dogs, potato chips, and applesauce for the kids. If you have ever seen the way kids cluster together instead of forming a single line, you might understand my confusion about everyone being invited to get food at the same time. We were also told to ignore the table full of dessert. As you can imagine, I was deeply confused by this. In my perfect world, I like to hit the buffet table once real quick before I sit down to eat. I tend to grab a small sampling (usually smaller than it was already cut) of anything that sparks my interest, leaving plenty for the people behind me. Then if I am still feeling hungry, I can go back for a little more after every one has had a chance to get food. It tends to cause less confusion. Of course, this still doesn't compete with using a round table for buffet style eating, which is still the worst catering mistake that I have seen (twice now).

Another question that crossed my mind was whether I was disturbing the children who kept dropping things on the ground. I would pick up whatever they left in their wake and return it to them. They usually looked at me in bewilderment. It may have been the blonde curls and dark eyebrows that was confusing them.

I suppose I should share that I decided to dress up as Goldilocks. I had a nice blue dress made from old curtains, blonde wig with ringlets, and a husband who was willing to dress up as Baby Bear, I think it worked. I did get guesses for Bo Peep (I had considered this one for the same costume) and Canadians (I blame my husband's hat). Usually I could lead people to the right answer by shaking my curls or scratching the husband's bear ears.

I would like to make note of some of my favorite costumes: a teenage girl dressed as Bob Marley, mommy and baby butterfly and daddy the butterfly collector, a female ringmaster, tiger cub, kangaroo baby with baby in its pouch, and a beauty pagenat winner (I have to note this because that poor girl had to be cold.)

Combine all of this with cupcakes, children with icing on their hands, children who kept grinning at me for unknown reasons, chocolate, yummy salad, and hot dogs and you can imagine that I had a wonderful evening. The only drawback to the fun was the fact that I forgot my gloves and we were roaming around outside. My hands were slightly frozen, but have obviously recovered enough for me to type an extensive party review: Party equals good!

Today's trick or treaters proved a little less entertaining. I have to question the reasoning skills of kids who didn't follow the sidewalk, ran across the grass, clambered through the flower bed I just planted bulbs in and then proceeded to complain about having to climb up on the stoop. My husband was not too stupified by the low IQs to point out that no one had to problem who actually used the sidewalk. We had a few cute little bees and princesses, but many of our visitors may not have been wearing costumes at all as they were bundled up against the chill. Perhaps, I should have had the wisdom to wear shoes myself since I kept having to step out onto the concrete stoop to drop prizes into buckets, pillowcases, and random bags. I won't remember this next year, will I?