Just reminiscing about Halloweens past. One thing that always comes to mind was the care my mother took when I was young to make homemade treats for the trick-or-treaters. My favorite was popcorn balls. Of course, back then you had to really pop the corn (no microwave bag thingies) and she cooked up some syrupy stuff and poured it onto the popcorn and then buttered up her hands and formed the balls. It was hot; we used to swear Mom had asbestos hands. Then we wrapped them in waxed paper and tied a ribbon to hold it closed. Those were the days before the $6 bags of mini chocolate bars; before razor blades were sliced into apples; when kids dressed as ghosts, witches, clowns and hobos instead of Britney, Hannah, the Hulk and Freddie Krueger (and I apologize if I misspelled Mr. K's name, never was a big fan.)
My dad got into the act, too, by donning a scary plastic mask to answer the door. They both got a big kick out of Halloween, and Mom would even keep a pad and pencil near the door to actually keep a tally of how many kids we got. There were usually well over a hundred. I went out, but always got back in time to help answer the door for awhile. I loved that part almost as much as getting the sweet loot.
Sadly, our doorbell hardly rings, despite the colorful pumpkin lights and jack o'lanterns we put out. Our street is a bit isolated, most of the children have grown and moved out. Some folks complain when the trick-or-treaters are teens, but I don't mind at all, as long as they are in costume. My own sons participated into their teens, and I loved that they still cared.
I still dress up myself, matter of fact. It's a natural, I think, for fiction writers to want to step into the role of a character, just for one night.
Have a fun night tonight, mateys!
The Dread Pirate Anne
See my blog for Halloween birthdays!