Halloween Days of Yesteryear

This year, Halloween will be different.

This year, we won’t be building a costume around a hat plucked from the Hat Box, or scrambling to pull together a costume at the last minute.

This year, we won’t leave the Nonni in charge of giving out candy while we walk around the neighborhood talking to neighbors as our sons run up and down driveways.

This year, we won’t gather around the kitchen table with the evening’s bounty, everyone burrowing through the pile looking for their favorite treat—a Babe Ruth (me), Sour Patch Kids (the boys), Hershey’s bars (Joe), Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups (Nonna), or any candy bar (Nonno, who likes it all).

This year, for the first time in over 20 years, we won’t have a child trick-or-treating. There will be no puppies, court jesters, Mr. Potato Heads, cattle rustlers, Harry Potters, Luke Skywalkers, pirates, football players, or Uncle Si.

Which is why this year ... I am thinking of all the Halloween days of yesteryear.

Bootiful Day

Three Halloweeny things that make my Monday ...

1- A happy ghost (how to here).

3- The cutest Halloween card.

2- That I was the Queen of Moderation, the Resistor of Temptation, the Epitome of Steely Resolve when faced with these two bags of candy.

Leaving

Leaving

If only all partings

were as beautiful

as a leaving leaf.

A ballerina in the wind

falling, floating, finishing

à terre.

A leaf which has left.

~from the files of very bad poetry by bia

(A rainy day, autumn leaves wind-swept to a corner of our front walk, and the portrait mode of my iPhone. No filters.) (Quite proud of this one ... AND it inspired a very bad poem by bia.)

Life Lately: mirror, mirror/ chalk art/ deliciousness in a bowl

1- Through the Looking Glass

Last weekend our lovely city hosted the annual Summerville Tour of Homes, and my friend's two hundred year old home was one of those on the tour! I volunteered to be a hostess for a shift on Sunday afternoon.

For three hours I played docent, sharing facts I hastily memorized from an information sheet given to me upon arrival. I'm good at memorizing, and I was wearing an official Summerville Tour Hostess badge, so for those three hours I pretended to know what I was talking about.

Seriously, it was a fun way to spend the afternoon. I met some lovely people, and the home (as always) was absolutely gorgeous.

It also made me realize I need a mirror ...  not just any mirror, but a MIRROR. One worthy of fairy tales and castles. One which will transport you to another world if you step through it.

2- Street Art

Allow me to share the following photos depicting street art in Florence, Italy. Street art with CHALK. There is something sad in thinking someone's heartfelt artistic endeavor is fleeting, melting away into chalky rivers the first time it rains. There's a metaphor for life somewhere in there, and just like that I feel a very bad poem by Bia taking root.

3- Lunch

Earlier this week I made a huge pot of pasta e fagioli for dinner, and every day since then it's been my go-to lunch. Perfect meal in a bowl.

The Great Jewelry Purge

Last April I wrote a post entitled A Whole Lot of Less in which I described what I packed for a 9-day trip to Florida. Which was very little. All my clothing fit in one small suitcase, and my jewelry included only the following items: one Fitbit Blaze (with interchangeable straps), one pair of earrings, and one wrap bracelet. Additionally, because we were leaving our home to our Masters guests, I had stored all the rest of my clothes and placed all my jewelry in a duffel bag which I squirreled away in our closet. When we returned home I didn't even pull them out again.

I learned an important lesson during our vacation: for those 9 days I wanted for nothing, and yet I had exactly what I needed--not too much, not too little, but the blessing of just enough.

And living with enough is plenty.

It wasn't until TODAY (six months later!) that I even pulled out that duffel bag of jewelry (which I discovered as I was cleaning out our closet). I looked at jewelry I hadn't worn in months, at all the watches, rings, necklaces, and bracelets I hadn't even missed. I sorted through everything, saved some favorite pieces, and then bagged the rest for donation.

Simplifying. Getting rid of too much. Letting go of the having just to have.

And knowing that the gift of enough is plenty. It's a lesson I apply to many areas of my life, and I have learned that saying no to excess leaves room for grace, tranquility, and peace of mind...all of which teaches me more about life than all the running around I do to live it.

Simplifying, and getting rid of what I don't need. 

Getting rid of too much. All bagged and ready to be donated.

This was all the jewelry I packed for our vacation, 

and all the jewelry I used for several months.

These are the earrings I kept after the Great Jewelry Purge.

Around the Fire Pit

When a member of our Book Club suggested we read Daphne Du Maurier's Rebecca for October, I knew right away it would be the perfect novel for a month which is all about ghosts and goblins.

To mirror the Gothic mood of the book, we took Book Club outside where, sitting around a fire pit, we discussed symbolism, foreshadowing, redemption, evil, and dreams. There must be something about a fire because we delved into that novel. We explored, analyzed, critiqued, and dissected.

We also came prepared to give the nameless heroine a name. Here were some of the suggestions: Frances, Daphne, Clementine, Angelina, Anastasia, Persimmon, and Rhododendron (and if you've read the novel then you know how that last suggestion makes perfect sense).

It was a lovely evening, and that night I didn't dream I went to Manderley again; rather, I thought about how grateful I was for that time around a fire, eating s'mores and drinking apple cider (or wine), all while discussing a good book with a group of wise, witty, and insightful women.

When the Cat is Away, the Mouse Eats Nutella

This morning, as I was driving Timothy to school, I asked him if there was anything he needed at the grocery store since I was headed there later that morning.

"Nutella," he answered promptly. "We're completely out."

So I added it to the list.

Later, though, as I was reaching for a jar of Nutella on the top shelf of the grocery store, I experienced a strong sense of deja vu. Wait a minute. Didn't I just purchase a large jar of Nutella not ten days ago? Why yes, yes I did. So when I picked up Timothy later that day I put him through the Nutella Inquisition. Where did that jar of Nutella go? The jar that was Costco-sized ... all 2.2 lbs of it?

And he confessed.

It seems that while I was in Arkansas for five days Timothy considered Nutella to be an essential part of the Food Pyramid:

Nutella on toast. Breakfast!
Nutella on sliced bread. Lunch!
Nutella with Ritz crackers. Afternoon snack!
Nutella on a spoon. Bedtime snack!

I just looked at him and thought of 2.2 lbs. of Nutella gone just like that.

Sometimes, there are just no words ... you know?