Crazy about pumpkins?

Was it Jejune who remarked that Americans are crazy about pumpkins? Dear Heart, pumpkins are but the tip of the iceberg. Americans are crazy about Halloween. Every child MUST have a costume and go trick-or-treating. Even teenagers, who ought to be old enough not to want to, cling to this tradition and wander the neighborhood in creatively costumed packs. (In our safe little suburb, anyhow. I know many sections of the city where it's not safe to go out at all. Parents take the tykes to the mall to trick-or-treat the merchants and play in their costumes.) Adults often go to work in costume. I know I do every chance I get. The year I showed up as a chocolate mousse was a trying one for my boss because I still had knock-out legs, and I was wearing a brown leotard and tights with festoons af white net ruffles to portray whipped cream. And I had moose horns. This year I may wear a black dress and go as that 1930s movie star because I look like Helen Black.


Americans spent more on Halloween decorations than on Christmas decorations last year. People buy decor and knick-nacks for the home, and go whole hog on their front yards. Yesterday was astoundingly warm and sunny, so I took a quick stroll around. In a five square block area I found: This endearing seasonal vignette,







This inflatable extravaganza, including the green goblin mouth to walk through on the way to the treats,










and a blow-up "snow" globe that lights up to show the little white bats swirling madly around inside whenever the pump is turned on.




And then there are the do-it-yourself over-achievers who go for the ghastly graveyard effect. The tombstones are styrofoam and paint. Quite effectively spooky looking.
If you enlarge the photos, you can read some of the entertaining "names" on some of the stones.

And here you can sort of see the ghost floating inside the window.



This was my favorite tombstone. "Why is the rest of the landing party wearing a different colored shirt?"



As I said, it was a glorious day. The local maple trees are doing their best to celebrate.




I don't know what kind of maples these are. Big leaf maybe?


Oh, and here's the new haircut after a walk. I no longer look like a sheepdog. Now I look more like a cross between a bloodhound and an albino schnauzer. Ah for the highly pigmented days when I looked like an Irish setter!