I've been busy lately. Busy enough that the to-do list would trail out the door and into the street, were it not digitally kept and maintained.
Halloween has come and gone, and with much less fanfare than is usual in the house of Swingbug. With all that's going on right now, I didn't do much. I mean, really not much. I carved one pumpkin, that I bought at the grocery store no less, and that comprised the whole of the house decorations. I'm pretty sure The Great Pumpkin doesn't show up to the sincerest shopping mart to bring presents to all the good girls and boys, but sometimes, you have to go easy and stay sane.
As I've mentioned, I undertook a big steampunk project effort Halloween this year, which I'd love to show you but only finished it by the skin of my teeth (weird expression) and I haven't properly photographed it yet.
I wore it to a friend's Halloween party last weekend and I was grateful for the opportunity to take it for a test drive, but it's a bit of an ordeal to put on, and long experience gained over many Halloweens has taught me that doing my regular job at a desk for eight hours in a corset makes me cranky by day's end.
Halloween has arrived, and with it, one of my favorite traditions: All Hallow's Read. And so, dear friends, I give you two stories for your contemplation on this dark and stormy end-of-October day. I read these both in the last couple of weeks, to get into the spirit of things. I offer you the same spirits.
The Legend of Sleepy Hollow, by Washington Irving
My husband chose the worthy character of J. Thaddeus Toad for his Halloween costume.
"J. Thaddeus Toad, Esquire."
"Ah, my mistake."
He chose the worthy character of J. Thaddeus Toad, Esq. for his Halloween costume.
A couple of nights ago, I got into bed, closed my eyes, and cuddled up next to my husband... who had eight more legs than I was expecting.
I looked outside last night at 7pm and it was well past dusk and moving on to full dark. I guess it's fall.
My summer hopes for a glorious pumpkin patch in my front yard fell short. The dry crunchy pumpkin vines out there have yielded one softball sized lumina and nothing else thus far. I did get some lovely pumpkin flowers anyway. And I can console myself that we're sticking to our advised water rationing guidelines, and also supporting my local farmers at the pumpkin patch down the road.
My son decided fairly early this year that he was going to be a superhero of his own description for Halloween. That description itself continued to evolve/mutate with super speed, along with the various accoutrements which spanned from crowns to dragon tails to super symbols that "look like fire in the shape of bacon" (direct quote, that), but the idea itself stuck true.