We’ve been planning to do this for three days now, but life has been getting in the way. Today, a down day after the excitement of yesterday (Aly’s SAT, massive stock ups during the first-weekend-after-Permanent Fund Dividends-are-issued local sales, swimming at the pool) we will likely, finally, get around to decorating for Halloween.
Mostly, this means putting up the family’s traditional window silhouettes, and clearing a few precious horizontal surfaces for some ceramic pieces.
Unlike last year, we won’t spread the silhouettes across the two picture windows. The one near the piano is blocked by all the plants Michelle has been moving inside this week, and I’m reluctant to take down the beautiful “stained glass” adhesive art Aly made for my birthday. Also, it’s not quite time to take down the hawk silhouettes there, although bats, witches and large cats might be as daunting to songbirds as hawks . . . .
The process will start with straightening and cleaning the house. This will be a timely activity, as Aly and I will become “orphaned” tomorrow, when Michelle moves to town to take care of friends’ children for a week or so.
I’m ready to begin celebrating the Halloween season. It’s always been big event in my life. That’s probably true for most kids, but my earliest memories come from living in Tieton, Washington, an orchard community above the Yakima Valley. No one does a harvest festival better than an agricultural community! I remember how horrified I felt when we moved back to Alaska, when I was eight, realizing that we might actually trick-or-treat in the snow! Aly finds that funny—that’s all she’s ever known. I got used to it pretty quickly, too, although ideally, I’ll take a cold, crisp, crunchy-leaf night for Halloween.
One note of suspense this Halloween is whether or not my new book, Shy Ghosts Dancing: Dark Stories from Southeast Alaska will be available for sale in time for the season. I’m working on getting the final artwork and layout approved; the race is getting close . . . .