Halloween can be orchestrated and celebrated in many fashions that go beyond overtly primpy dress-ups and decked-out pumpkins.
And thus it was. Again indeed. So let it now be written. So let it be done. Taking in church, too. And a less-is-more foodish and not foolishness-based party, with what grub they still have left, based on bare-bones basics, such as some great, sweet potato pie. So they can still have a celebration. More on that later. Also, we’re waiting on certain updates.
But first the prelude, pre-Halloween eve, before the sun was set to set, about what was worn. And seen about town, in many haunts beyond the typical for Halloween.
Had to get some candy, mid-afternoon, although I’ve never had a trick or treater in my recent-years digs. So I made it barely one bag, but when I was checking out, I ran into a clerk bouncing through the bar-code (just one) who could of been a bunny or brown bear. With those big ears to kill.
Even though she momentarily looked miffed about being maxed out — as mountains of late-goers like me were getting their goods — which mammal was she, I asked her.
She smiled a bit, and said she could go with either. When a customer asked, then made a suggestion, could she be even a third or fourth kind of furry animal, she would just smile again — with ear twitch — and agree with their assumption.
On the way out, feeling conspicuous with my one unbagged brownie-equivalent in hand, and maybe that’s what inspired his comment despite the spirit of Halloween, I happened by a man with death mask dressed all in black, some of it dripping with strings. I made note of this.
“What are you looking at?”
I told him my eyes were fixed on his outfit, and the stuff affixed. He was OK with that.
“I’m assuming it’s a costume,” I noted. “These days you never know.” He laughed a bit and was OK with that, too, adding a yes about his dress.
Back going home up the street, I saw a little girl in a princess outfit, with one seemless garment, with a tiara on top and frills at the bottom. She was with mommy and daddy and they passed the bike shop, where the sign talked about trikes and mountain bikes, and got into The Smilin’ Moose even though it was happy hour. They still, though, had kiddie food. And kiddie cocktails.
Back at the ranch, apartment actually, no cowpokes or calves, there were more of other kiddies, a few different times, roaming the halls, even though I’d never seen one here on Halloween before. I heard them go dashing past the door, though they didn’t knock. So the candy went for naught. I will see some of them at a later time, in the hall, so I’ll give it then. I’d just better have it handy.
Then …
Halloween eve is followed with a second night of costumed revelry, at least for those being out there by going out, ending about the time the clock doth turn for the goth, and toll for all of us. This is also All Saints Day, which is followed, for those saintly enough to follow along in sheer solemnity for a second day of church, the largely syllabally similar All Souls Day. They all are said, Roman Catholically, to on one day or the next commemorate (or face the cannon) all the dear saints passed through Heaven’s gates, both martyred and canonized and uncanonized, or pray for the souls of those faithful departed, especially those in purgatory, (and those are the ones likely to party it up while out in non-angel costume and not be in church, and note the Hell’s Angels are not mentioned), and both days honor the dead but have distinct purposes, (like ghosts are different from goblins), and the first is a celebration of holiness and a holy day of obligation, (for Catholics who are not ghouls), and All Souls Day is seen as a more personal day of remembrance for one’s own loved ones, though must go since it is a Sunday … That’s a mouthful.
But now to more on those who are not as holy, and not wholly dead but zombies. As in that group of mostly older women (be they witches?) who had gathered for an EBT party, to use up the last of their SNAP dollars, ranging from one to what little was left of 175.
I know the host, and as a vegetarian she can make even the greenest of veggies go great as a candy-like treat. But none were in costume, as old witches or otherwise, although I’m sure there was plenty of wise laughter, and I won’t call it cackling. I had to ask if anyone at least donned a fake nose.
“Nope. Nope. We were all regular.”
That’s pretty good for a bunch of could-be-called old hags!