Somebody has a sense of humor. The tire shop down the block from me has a spooky-fun Halloween display this year. I pass it every afternoon on my daily walk. Each time I see it, it’s grown. A new spook, witch, or goblin. A scary clown. The other day, I saw a funeral wreath hanging outside the shop, a pair of stuffed ravens on either side of it. It makes me smile each time I pass by. And from the reactions of other passersby I’ve noticed—little kids, especially—the tire shop spooks’ gallery is a welcome addition to the neighborhood. I don’t know if there will be trick-or-treating this year, but there’s a shortage of holiday spirits.
Reminds me of Halloweens when my kids were growing up. Each year we got creative with our pumpkin carving. One year it was a Mama Jack-o-lantern and her “babies.” Another year it was a Great White Shark pumpkin with a Barbie doll, painted with fake blood, in its toothy jaws. We didn’t have a lot of money back then so costumes were homemade. My son Michael wasn’t too happy about it the year I dressed him as a hunchbacked “Igor” when he wanted to go trick-or-treating as a Star Wars character. But he got into the spirit of it, and it ended up being one of his favorite Halloween memories. My daughter Mary was a princess for 3 years running in her homemade pink satin ballerina tutu until she finally outgrew it. We made cookies, cut out in the shapes of jack-‘o-lanterns, cats, and spooks, frosted with orange-tinted and chocolate frosting. The store-bought treats were for the trick-or-treaters who showed up at our door. (When I was growing up, some of our neighbors gave out homemade treats to trick-or-treaters, but by the time my kids were born that tradition has passed (sadly.)
I remember going trick-or-treating with my sisters and brother. Every year there would be the family debate over who might be too old to go trick-or-treating. (There were six of us, spaced two years apart in age). After we got home from canvassing our cul-de-sac for loot, my mom would offer to buy our Halloween candy for a nickel or dime a candy bar—presumably to avoid trips to the dentist. This always created a dilemma for me. Would I rather eat the candy or have the money to buy something I wanted? I usually ended up selling her half my candy and eating the rest, which might explain my weird fondness for candy corns.
What are your Halloween traditions? Do you have a favorite Halloween memory? I’d love to hear about it!
