Homemade soup, butternut squash, Halloween, caramel apples, crunchy leaves, golden sunlight. It's fall and it's lovely. And tonight, a first! I broke my streak of 20 plus years of having way too much candy on Halloween. I actually ran out of every single last piece of candy in the joint with over 200 pieces walking away with Packers and Yankees and ghouls and witches and princesses and ninjas. Tiny tigers and pumpkins, round and clueless as they were cute, plunging pudgy hands into the candy bowl for candy I'm sure they would never eat. I'm not even sure they knew it was candy, it was just colorful. There's nothing more triumphant than running out of a reputable amount of candy. It kind of puffs you up. Ran out of candy, what can you do? I'm awesome. Really what I forget is that we don't have any candy coming in anymore on Halloween, just going out. No bags to raid for those last few kids that show up to the party late. I rooted through the pantry shelves and came up with single serving potato chips and Cliff bars. But in the end it was too tragic, so after about three kids I turned out the lights.
The Chicken and Mrs. Bachmann
Our street has evolved as the new drive-in street for kids across the way. It's an easy access street, close by, wide and car-friendly. Parents can hover at or crawl along the curb while the kids do a few houses at a time before hitting a curmudgeon's house. Then they get a whoop or a whistle from the car and all go hopping back in the car in search of more lighted houses. When I was young, it was mere feet between neighbors, but the little legs here have to go quite a bit further between houses for a hard won snack size candy bar. The kids come in big groups, all ages and sizes, some with costumes and some without, it really doesn't matter because most are wearing coats. There might be several moms or dads or just older siblings leading the way. Some families collect candy for the baby in the stroller, a favorite tradition of ours from our days in West Philly. The kids are fearful of stepping into the foyer presumably because they've been told never to go into stranger's houses (good rule), so I have to step outside to give the candy and get a look at their costumes. They say Trick or Treat and thank you without prompting. Some of them go off script and tell me how nice my house is which I find touching. They feel like neighbors but I don't know where they live and I wish I knew them better. Ally told me to stop giving two and three pieces at a time, admonishing me that I would run out. "I heard you out there sneaking them extra pieces, Mom. No wonder you ran out." I know, I can't help myself.
ironically the mime is stuck outside the glass door
Halloween is a special night for me, from growing up in the trick or treating capital of the world, Narberth, PA to starting a Halloween tradition in West Philly that continues today and now to Madison where I'm mostly the nice older lady who is a soft touch. Ah, whatever. It's one night and no need for limits. As my neighbor posted on Facebook tonight, and I paraphrase, "if I ever get tired of cute little princesses and pumpkins ringing my doorbell, commence with the beatings." http://ucreview.com/eve-of-all-hollows-celebrated-in-spruce-hill-p3031-1.htm