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I love autumn. Maybe it’s because I’m a November baby. I adore corn
mazes, pumpkin carving, chai tea lattes with a hint of pumpkin spice,
sturdy soups, falling leaves, spending an entire day making
Thanksgiving pies, and those cool, crisp mornings that mark the
changing of the season.
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Due to my fall fetish, our Halloween décor remains on display for
days after the last trick-or-treater has vacated our porch. We tend to go all out, partly because our direct neighbors are all Halloween no-
shows. The neighbors to our left have been teaching overseas for several years, so their house is only occupied during the summer
school break. The neighbors to the right don’t celebrate Halloween.
And our across-the-street neighbors spend half their time—which
always seems to overlap with Halloween—at their second home.
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So, on the big night, we try to pick up the neighborhood slack. We’ve
got creepy tombstones dotting the yard, luminarias brightly burning on
the steps, and a minimum of three huge carved pumpkins. Oh, and
full-sized candy bars! Any kid who ventures down our street past those
boring, no-treat houses is going to be rewarded with the good stuff at
ours. And, after you’ve given out a few full-sized bars, word spreads.
Last year, I remember one kid yelling at the end of our driveway,
“They’re giving out big candy bars!” He shouted it with the same joy
and astonishment as “I just won the lotto!” And, I suppose,
discovering the full-sized-candy-bar house is a kid’s version of hitting
the jackpot.
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We usually see a lot of trick-or-treaters (118 this year) because ours is
the only neighborhood in a rural-ish area dotted with farms. We’re the
only place for miles where you can walk door-to-door without hiking
boots and a compass. Our neighborhood of 100 homes also has no “through” streets. There’s only one way in and out of the
neighborhood, so traffic is light, making the streets fairly safe for little
ghouls and witches. |
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Another draw is that one of the few other houses on our street that
goes BIG for Halloween puts on a “Star Wars” show every 15
minutes. The “stage” is the home’s two-car garage, which has been
renovated to look like a high-tech spaceport. The homeowners
announce the shows on social media, so a lot of folks turn up for the
pageantry. And this isn’t a hokey little playlet by a couple of “Star Wars” enthusiasts. This is an all-out, smoke-machine-spewing, light-
show-flashing, fully scripted, authentically costumed, musically scored, droid-studded, drama-filled extravaganza culminating in a
choreographed light saber battle between Darth Vader and Rey
Skywalker. Spoiler alert: Good triumphs over evil.
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But now that Halloween is over, we’re heading down the stretch to
Thanksgiving. I have to say, I prefer Halloween: no house cleaning, no
struggling to time the turkey and side dishes to all be ready at the same
time (it’s a nail-biter every year), no mountain of dishes to tackle once
the family departs with leftover-filled to-go containers. |
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At least we’re cooking for my family this year. They’re easy. Hubby’s
family is a little tougher. His immediate family has two vegans, one
vegetarian, one pescatarian, and one who hates almost everything
except my broccoli-cheese bake and pecan pie.
Vegan cooking is not my forte. We tried a semi-vegan Thanksgiving
one year, but the “creamy, no-dairy” mashed potatoes solidified into a
brick once they cooled and the vegan stuffing was too dry to choke
down. The tofurky was okay... if you’ve never tasted real turkey
before. I didn’t want to attempt vegan desserts, so we all just
pretended that the pecan pie didn’t have butter and eggs in it. The
vegans were somewhat placated by the fact that the eggs came from
my sister’s extremely spoiled and pampered chickens. I mean, c’mon,
my sister makes her chickens a huge pot of warm oatmeal on cold
mornings. They’re living their best lives.
I’m living my best season and looking forward to the holidays. And if
things get too hectic, I can always add a little rum or brandy to my
pumpkin spice latte. |
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