As you might remember, our little town goes all out for the pagan celebrations. Since I have long given up ever getting copies of photographs taken during the event (sort of like that Seinfeld episode where he gets to the rental car counter only to find his reservation has been given away)-- they know how to TAKE the photographs, they just don't know how to SHARE the photographs.

And so, here is me readying for joining my group that would be seated around a poker table while the Grateful Dead plays in the background.

Sad truth? Aside from the day-of-the-dead facepaint, my garb would provoke no raised eyebrows on any given day in my little hippie town.* My tableau companions looked way better than I did (hence my chagrin at having no photos for you) as one was wearing a fabulous hat with a wide lace brim she had created herself and another was wearing a Mexican poncho and giant sombrero. All the while we sat around a genuine poker table playing with Hello Kitty Uno cards . . .

After the last little trick-or-treater had bravely ventured to grab some candy out of our bowl, we took our chilled toesies to the pub upstairs of the Corner House (which how cool is it that some of you know EXACTLY what I am talking about?!!) which was packed with fellow revelers and had live music playing. Much fun. Much food and drink. Much too late did I sprawl across my bed this morning, my face still sore from the face scrub I had to use to remove the greasepaint, and my head soft as an overripe pear.

Oh wait-- what did I say to one group of trick-or-treaters as they approached in their homemade costumes?

ME: Oh look, we have a goat and a plumber!

Children look at me askance. They do not feel recognized.

Mother's irritation is thinly veiled which leads me to believe she is the creator of said costumes.

MOTHER: They are Yoda and R2D2!

As they walk off, I am duly mocked by my fellow skeletons as well as by T who had joined us by then. Even if I had a camera, you would not be able to see him as he was in black head to toe, black greasepaint covering his face with only the glint of small, metal sunglasses to identify the eyes. What was he? Dark energy, of course.

Happy November first! Keep the sunshine coming--

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*Doesn't that sound like it should be the title of a song-- My Little Hippie Town?

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