I’m not sure what my big sister was supposed to be, but I was a little Dutch girl for Halloween that year. My outfit was complete with wooden shoes, and I insisted upon trick-or-treating while wearing them. It was always freezing cold, and often raining on Halloween. Wearing a coat over your costume ruined the whole look and I usually chose to freeze instead of covering up my costume, much to my mother’s dismay. My grandmothers and my mother always handmade our costumes, so I had some really great ones. I wish I could find the picture of my Indian princess costume. I had a feather headdress, a suede dress that my grandmother hand-beaded, and moccasins. I was the most blonde Indian ever, but I loved it. What does an eight year old know about being politically correct? Honestly, what did anyone know about being politically correct in the 1970s?
My son never really got into the Halloween thing when he was little. I’d make him a great costume, but the idea of walking door to door to get candy perplexed him. He thought it was a much more efficient idea to go to the store and buy exactly the candy you wanted, and completely cut out the middle man. If you know my son, you can see how this is so him, even to this day.
I don’t know about you, but this has been a very long week. I’m ready for the weekend to arrive. I spent the evening cleaning up my place, so I can have the weekend to relax. My favorite way to clean is to pour myself a glass of wine and then turn up some cheesy old music like ABBA or Earth Wind and Fire. A mop handle doubles as a great microphone. Hey, you may as well make everything as fun as you can.
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