Spooky Hallowe’en All


I mildly dread Hallowe’en night.  It’s a royal pain to hang around by the front door and hand out treats to fake goblins.  This year I have set up my lap top in the living room and I’m determined to do a play by play of exactly what goes on.  Because it is SURE to be extraordinarily interesting, although I’m not certain yet to whom.   Our next door neighbours always do their whole front yard up with tombstones and gouls, attracting the spooks to their door.  And thus to mine by default. 

6: 14  First little trick or treater of the night – two foot tall witch with flaming pink hair.  Accompanied by parents who appear to be WAY happier than the witch.  Perhaps she has been forced into Hallowe’en servitude and will be giving up her pumpkin full of loot before bed.

6:21 A small grey elephant and a brown bear in arms.  Both confused and rightly suspicious, accepting candy from strange old ladies.  Dad having a ball.  Mom on the sidewalk snapping pictures for posterity.

6:25  W. goes by with the lawn mower roaring.  I’m not even kidding.  I have NO IDEA why I am married to him.  He’s seriously deranged.

6:27  I have consumed two mini mars bars. 

6:28 W. turns off the lawnmower for 3.2 seconds and starts it up again.

6:29  Cute little blonde in a fancy red coat.  Winterized red riding hood?  Not sure.

6:30 Very tall woman in a lacy white dress carrying her head, accompanied by a wood cutter.  Or something.  I don’t ask.  They’re an awesome pair.

6:35 The two little girls from next door, Megan and Mini Megan, two little blonde princesses.  With shopping bags as big as they are.  W. stops the lawn mowing to talk to their mom, our neighbor, who will probably put a for sale sign out on her own lawn tomorrow.  I hear him tell her he’s not completely crazy, just close.  Sigh.

I am sitting here rethinking giving out the little treat bags full of stuff I don’t particularly like first, saving the mars bars for last.  The mars bars might not make it to ‘last’.   When I partially close the front door leaving it very slightly ajar, it moves on its own and creaks.  Woot!   I have a practically haunted house.  The boogey man is on the lawn.

6:48  There has been a serious lull in the proceedings, no doubt caused at least in part by the moonlight grass clipping dementor…..

6:53 Three boys, one just escaped from prison, one straight off a pirate ship, and the other one looking like he could use a bath.

6:54 A Wild Thing, from Where the Wild Things Are!  I had no idea those wild things were so damn cute.  Maybe it’s just the ones who have their moms tagging along.  Smart moms leave dads at home to hand out the crap.  No doubt with strict orders to leave the lawn mower in the garage, thank you very much or I will divorce your sorry ass.  Or some such thing that I never can get up the nerve to say out loud.  W. and the mower appear to be headed off into the twilight at last.

6:59  W. informs me that Jay (older brother of the Megans next door) is dressed up as a skeleton, sitting in a lawn chair amidst the tombstones, scaring the bejeesus out of unsuspecting trick or treaters.  His dad told him anyone over 12 is fair game.

7:03 A baby bumblebee.  Less than two feet tall.  Mom tells him to say thank you.  He says you’re welcome.

7:05 Spiderman and his good buddy Skeletor.  They tell me they are just starting out and look plaintively into my eyes.  Perhaps this ploy is supposed to make me double up on the treats?  Doesn’t work. 

7:06 A giant furry grey chewbacca??  What WAS that thing?  And another big guy with a gas mask.  I think they could quite possibly be pushing thirteen, never mind twelve.  I’m happy to see them head off in Jay’s direction.

7:07 Three little girls with painted faces and gigantic pillow cases.  I’m lost after that much of an observation, because they are in a SERIOUS hurry.

7:08  I ask W, who is now hanging around at the front window drinking a pepsi, if he would like to hand out the treats for a bit.  He says no,  he has to go put some ice on his groin.  You KNOW I could not have made that up.  This is the lawn ranger we’re talking about here.  He does not understand how I can find a painful groin so hysterically funny.

7:12  Another lull.  I light some candles.  Say some prayers.  I’m just kidding about that last part.

7:20 Three more gigantic kids with goulish painted faces and freaked out wigs.  There should be a rule that if you’re six feet tall it’s time to go to a party and get drunk and leave the candy for the little guys.

7:21 Three geisha girls.  Jay makes them SCREAM their little white faces off.

The first bowl of made up little bags of treats is gone, and it’s on to the juice boxes.  I’ve saved those for the bigger kids who, if they break their arms carting them around, will be okay with that as long as it means missing some school.  So I don’t have to feel guilty or anything.

7:26  A really sparkly silver skeleton and a fairy princess with irridescent wings.  And hooker make up.

7:27 A football player, a horrible looking goul, and a skulking companion who does not look up so I don’t know what he is supposed to be.  Weirdos are definitely travelling in threes tonight.

7:33  Another three little monkies who are THRILLED TO DEATH by juice boxes.  They aren’t actually monkies, but seriously, there are kids that have painted faces and toques and things that look like extra appendages bobbing around all over them.  It’s Hallowe’en man!  Anything goes.   

7:38  This stool I’m sitting on gets harder by the minute.  I notice the people across the street have their Christmas lights up.  Not that there’s anything wrong with that.  At the end of October before there’s any snow or anything.  I’m just sayin’. 

It’s a perfectly gorgeous night!  No snow or rain, mild temperature, no wind.  I have a LOT of juice boxes to go.  If I’d known they’d be so popular, I might have started off with those!  And given the big kids pencil sharpeners or something!  I’m always making the wrong hallowe’en decisions.  Thus the dread. 

7:42 Perhaps I need to go find a book to read.  Or at least get a drink of water.  Or take a bathroom break.  If old frozen groin lawn mower boy over there could be counted on to fill in for a minute or two.

7:44   Nothing to report.  Afraid to abandon my post.

7:50  A little more action at last.  Two little girls with winter coats on and long skirts and big black boots.  They tell me they are sisters.  I want to tell them their mom dresses them funny, but they take off before I think of it.  Which is just as well I guess.

8:10  W. announces he’s going to have a hot shower after rummaging through the last candy bowl asking me if there’s anything good in there.  I tell him it’s the same stuff he’s been eating all week.  I have another mini mars bar.  Because tomorrow he’ll take the last of them to work and I want to be good and sick of them by then.  So that I won’t make a fuss about it.

8:13 Wow, I think that might be it!  Where are the stragglers?  Jay is still out there patiently waiting for that big heart attack victim to materialize.

8:17  Yay!  Three more little ones.  A pumpkin, a red thing and a bug or something. Their sacks are pretty full, so I suspect this is just another stop on their way home.  Now they have some extra weight to drag down the sidewalk behind them.

8:22  I think W. has gone to bed!  Pretty pathetic behaviour for such an exciting night.  Clocks turning back and all that good stuff.  I’ve been to Farmville and done some harvesting.  Perhaps I’m not entertaining enough for him to put a lot of effort into staying awake.

8:26  Drank a peach juice box and feel ill.  How do kids do it?? 

8:30 Well, that’s it, I’ve had entirely enough fun for one night.  Don’t see anyone else on the streets.  Time to close the door and turn off the lights and ……  open it again for a cat, yet another princess, and something dressed in a lot of orange.  I gave them two juice boxes each.  It made their night, apparently.

8:33 An angel with awkward huge wings, a witch looking a tad bedraggled, and a kid sister cat tagging along, stumbling on the steps.  What a strange night of threes!  It must mean something.  Something profound and incredible.  Or nothing at all.    The peach juice has made my brain fuzzy.

8:34  The Grim Reaper!!  And to think I almost missed him!!  What a gruesome sight!  I long for another bumble bee.

8:42  Blow out the candles.

8:45 Close the door.

8:56 Turn off the lights. 

9:12 My computer is back where it belongs and my butt is on a much softer chair.  I have survived yet another onslaught of Hallowe’en trick or treaters.  And like every year I’ve been doing this I can now once again feel foolish for having had a panic attack earlier which caused me to pick up an extra box of chocolate bars on the way home.  Because you just never know if a hundred kids will show up instead of a dozen.  The guys at W.’s work have come to expect a ridiculous amount of candy on the first of November, so why start disappointing them now by purchasing a sane amount. 

9:24 It’s time for a grown up hallowe’en treat for me.  A wee dram of witches brew.  The night didn’t kill me, and this probably won’t either.  And if it does, well then we’ll know that the grim reaper costume was no joke.  Happy Hallowe’en and cheers!

There, now wasn’t that an awesome three hours of my life that I will never get back?

Our Trip to the Atlantic Coast

All of my pictures are posted on facebook (well, the ones worth looking at, anyway), so here’s the lazy persons way of putting them on my blog. 





Whew!  that pretty much sums it up.  Except for the places we stayed and the food we ate.  Lots of fish.  YUM!!  They really do make the best fish ever out there.  I’m not a big fan of seafood chowder, but had some in North Sydney that was excellent.

The one thing that is missing from my pictures is our adventure in Glace Bay.  We popped into a mining museum at exactly the wrong moment.  A guy glommed onto us and told us excitedly that the last mine tour of the day was just about to get underway, and if we wanted to join it we should hustle on down, and don’t worry,  you can pay later!  So we hustled.  We donned hard hats and big black capes.  I only had time to think that this would probably be an underground ride on one of those little mining cart train things, but as we walked down into the mine shafts I realized THAT wasn’t gonna happen.  The ceilings got lower and lower so that we had to stoop.  I kept banging my hard hatted head on overhead beams.  And I’m pretty short.  Finally we joined the group of similarly demented tourists who were patiently awaiting our arrival.  The talk began, and I think it was pretty interesting, but my mind was kind of wandering.  It was dark, and cold and wet and generally icky down there.  I couldn’t see what was happening with my camera, and found out later I had taken a video of a stuffed horse.  It was a very short horse, so maybe it was a pony.  Told you I wasn’t listening.   I put my camera in my pocket and concentrated on breathing instead.  We went further down into the earth.  It got darker, if that’s even possible.  The guide started talking about mine disasters.  Water was dripping from the beams and I swear the passages went down to a height of four feet.  GAH.  Then we all packed into a little area with slightly better light around a little hydroponic garden and sat on benches and got a good look at eachother’s stunned expressions.  Even sitting we still had to stoop.  The fellow talking to us had been a miner, and his father before him.  He knew a lot of stuff.  He could answer all your questions, and with a sense of humor too!  I decided to save laughing until I got the hell out of there.  Finally walking steadily towards the surface felt like leaving hell behind.  I don’t know how those miners kept their sanity.  Maybe they never had any in the first place.  Taking off the hard hat and the cape felt very liberating.  Then we watched some film footage of miners and mines and strikes and poverty.  Those miners were slaves.  Our little jaunt was a picnic compared to what they endured. 

Now I can add fear of being underground to my fear of water.  Seeing an underground lake would probably kill me.  The ferry rides were okay because the ships were so huge and you could look at many things other than the ocean.  The overnight part was okay too.  I just kept telling myself that as long as the alarm bells weren’t going off, we were probably still afloat. 

All in all, it was a wonderful experience.  Nova Scotia in particular was worth seeing.  The people we met there were the friendliest I think.  And they have a Nova Scotia accent, not as pronounced as the Newfoundlanders, but endearing  just the same.  Would I ever go back?  Probably not.  Been there, done that, didn’t drown.  Saw some great stuff and learned at lot.

Dogs Eye View Three, the final installment.

It has taken me until THANKSGIVING to get around to part three of my cottage tour.  So you all should be THANKFUL that it’s being posted at all, or at the very least, thankful that this is the last you’ll hear on the subject.


Hey Buddy!  Somebody gave you a facelift!  Hmmm.  I almost didn’t recognize you with eyelashes.  That’s just weird.  So was that a present for your 70th birthday?  You look closer to 80.  I’m just sayin’.


Funny looking seaweed, strange little fish.  Heading AWAY from the flu symptoms fridge magnet.  Where do these things come from?  And that lovely magnetic notepad that gets used once a summer, maybe.  Way more fun to write your grocery list on little scraps of paper that go mysteriously  missing.


Help!  The ferris wheel stopped and I can’t get off!  Haha, just kidding, but this is still a scary spot.  These mugs have been hanging here on this little seventies mug rack for eons.  They change locations randomly and collect dust.  And that’s about the sum total of their usefullness, or lack thereof.  They were a gift from somebody.  No one remembers exactly who, or why, or when.  Or what  the hell they were thinking.


Ewww.  Can anyone say nauseous?  Drinking rum from a plastic tumbler while putting together a castle puzzle on a sunflower tablecloth.  Some humans have a really bizarre sense of fun.


I am precariously perched atop this brittle plastic letter, note and memo holder that’s gotta be older than dirt.  To my knowledge it has never held notes, memos or mail since it’s arrival.  It does, however, keep some big honkin’ ugly glasses safe from whatever big honkin’ ugly glasses need to be kept safe from.  Once or twice someone has picked a pair up, gazed for a moment in stunned amazement, and then plunked them back into their little slot.  No one would dream of taking this thing down and throwing it away because looking for homes for these optical appliances would be just too stressful an undertaking.  So it stays.  And the glasses stay with it.


Final stop on my way back to the overhead shelf.  All this tripping about has made me long for my own nice little safe spot.  Glad I don’t share it with a snotty elf  perched on a teapot  that should be in a museum.  Or at least polished once every 40 years.   The wine glasses are of the current century but that creepy little basket – maybe not.  Then there’s that strange green glass mini goblet lurking in the shadows.  I just don’t know what to say, except that my little chickens are looking better and better all the time.

That’s it.  I’m done.  Back to the top shelf and a long winters nap, undisturbed for another year.  Or maybe forever.  It’s hard to say.