Sugar high

I haven't been a big fan of Halloween in a long, long time. I can never think of a good costume, and never get around to carving the pumpkin in time, and I hate having candy around the house to tempt me, and it's just never as much fun as when I was a kid.

This year, though, Halloween rocked. First of all, it seems to be a big deal here, if the house decorations are any indication. Here's what our neighbor's place looks like:

Their display is by no means the most elaborate, though they were the only ones with W.W.J.D. carved into a pumpkin.

Also, there are tons of pumpkin farms within 10 miles of us, so it was no problem getting a gourd. In fact, it was a lot of fun taking The Boy on a hay ride out to the fields to pick our own. I'd forgotten how much work carving the dern things take, but it was worth it once I stuck the candle inside and got to see the faces all glowy:

I was going for scary, but it's been a while since I carved a pumpkin, so they just came out kind of grumpy.

I didn't have to worry about a costume this year, because we had borrowed a Tigger costume for The Boy, (who refused to take it off when he tried it on for the first time last week,) and he was so freakin' cute in it I knew no one would pay attention to what I was wearing anyway. Here he is marching off to the next house for more candy. You can just make out a Twix bar over his shoulder:

He refused to let us put any of the candy he collected in the pillowcase as he trotted along, preferring instead to clutch it all in his hot little paws.

But it wasn't even trick-or-treating with The Boy that made me enjoy Halloween like a kid again. It was the whole bustling atmosphere of our neighborhood. We didn't even wait for the doorbell to ring; we just sat on our porch, taking it all in: the three princesses comparing their candy count as they descended the steps of our neighbors house, the kid in the bloody hockey mask who thanked me politely for allowing him to take two mini snickers bars from the bowl, the parents smiling from the sidewalk as their children raced to and from the houses. That and the eight to ten candy bars I managed to stuff in my mouth while AR and The Boy weren't looking. What? They were minis! I decided I was allowed to have as many as I wanted, as long as I didn't have the same kind twice.

Mmmm, chocolate.