I have had a topic planned for tonight's post since last Tuesday, when Kat put out her five writing prompts for the week. I liked the "22 Things I Have Done" prompt, which would have been a counterpoint to my 22 Things I Haven't Done post. But as usual I couldn't resist the challenge of writing whatever random.org threw me, which is how I ended up writing about knee-hi hosiery. I had planned to use tonight's space for the "22 Things I Have Done" topic, but at 9 p.m., with three hours of weekend left, I still had a lengthy to-do list which couldn't possibly fit in the three hours allotted.
One of the items on the list was helping my son do the Halloween decorations. Here's where the "on the 30th" part of this post's title comes in. Wayne Kevin has been talking about the Halloween decorations for weeks - it is his favorite part of the holiday. And by 9 p.m. on "Halloween Eve," there wasn't a single bloody limb or spider web to be found adorning our house.
That is why instead of a "22 Things I Have Done" post, I prioritzed a 23rd thing, spending an hour with my son decorating for Halloween. Some photos:
Make no bones about it ... this is important!
Getting a leg up on things.
Halloween Decoration Deluxe Fastener System
(Desperate times call for desperate measures)
Hangin' Around Hoping for a Good Time
The Door Cover
The Real Thing
I wonder if he'll agree to stay put until tomorrow.
It wasn't the super-deluxe production Wayne would like to do. When I asked him what his fantasy Halloween decoration scheme would be, the answer involved "everything," "strobe lights," "fog," and "Zombie Babies" to name a few. It probably involves a much earlier start than October 30.
An essay I had just read was in the front of my mind as we spun out spider web, goaded "skeleton" pieces into the ground, and hung severed "body parts." The essay, entitled "Costume Change," was written by Katrina Kenison and published in the October 2011 issue of Good Housekeeping Magazine. In the essay, she talked about her and her younger son's tradition of trying on Halloween masks together every year. In the essay, she reminisces about a recent trip to WalMart with the now-teenager Jack. The trip was ostensibly for dorm supplies, but Katrina and Jack found themselves on the mask aisle, lost for the briefest of moments in the pleasure of revisiting a tradition that felt like coming "home." Katrina said, in the essay, "our detour down the mask aisle brought back lots of good memories for us both. I realize that what I remember most clearly now is not all the actual Halloween nights of his childhood, but rather our annual trips together in search of the perfect mask.......How much fun we had together when I ... slowed down to his pace and took the time to play and ponder."
I can talk to you all about the other 22 things later. They can wait. Tonight I had a 23rd item on the list and I don't want to be haunted by knowing I had left it undone.