patiently waiting

I often wonder about the total amount of time I have spent waiting to pick up my children from various activities. It can be time-consuming. It can be monotonous. But it can also be wonderfully relaxing. Especially on a clear, unseasonably warm autumn day when you can lie on the grass and gaze up at vibrant shades of yellow and red on blue.

I think I could have stayed there all day.

vampires are scary

It's a strange statement to make on a Halloween-themed blog. But it has to be said. Vampires scare me. All vampires. Or at least all of the vampires I've ever encountered through books and movies. I can't speak about Twilight because I've never seen it and likely never will. And I'd have to make an exception for The Count from Sesame Street. Let's just say that all vampires that are not fuzzy and cute scare me.



I took some time to reflect on my fear of vampires recently when I capitulated under the weight of my daughter's ridicule and sat down to watch Bela Lugosi's original Dracula for the first time. Yes, the first time. I had never seen it. Despite owning a copy. I bought it because I needed the Dracula set to complete my Universal Legacy Collection of DVD's. My collector's soul simply would not let me walk away.

As a fan of classic horror, I had to ask myself: why? Why do I embrace mummies and ghosts and werewolves, while vampires, and particularly Dracula, leave me cold? And I think I've arrived at an answer.


Dracula has absolutely no redeeming qualities. No glimmer of humanity. No endearing trait.

Frankenstein's monster is seeking acceptance. The Wolfman is the unwitting victim of his malady. The Mummy is searching for his long-lost love. The Invisible Man is . . . well, he at least finds humour in his situation. Maniacal humour. But humour nonetheless.

Dracula, on the other hand, is not humourous. Nor does he inspire pity or empathy.


He's just evil and creepy. Even in 1931 black-and-white.

water and fudge

So I decided to cheer myself up yesterday by putting up my Halloween tree. My son, a Halloween enthusiast like myself, was enlisted to drag a box of Halloween decorations out of its storage place in the laundry room. While pulling out the box, however, he misjudged its proximity to the water meter and assorted pipes. Suddenly there was a puddle on the floor. It got ever larger and larger. It could not be stopped. Buckets were needed. Wrenches were called into service. To no avail. Finally, a plumber was called and was more than happy to pay us a visit on a Sunday evening. Within five minutes, he had repaired the problem (broken gasket) and collected his $115. The Halloween tree would have to wait for another day.

On a happier note, I went apple picking on the weekend and stopped at a favourite market for some pumpkin pie fudge. An autumn tradition. Delicious as always. So good it almost balances out the plumbing bill. Almost.

think . . . think . . . think . . .

It couldn't have happened at a worse time.

This is typically the time of year when I am completely consumed with Halloween preparations. Pumpkins. Candy. Spooky movies. Props. And prop disasters. I embrace it all. But this year, I find myself horribly distracted. Distracted by real life. With few thoughts to spare for Halloween. Because unfortunately, my "Halloween Preparation Season" has coincided with "Serious Decision Making Season". And the serious decision making time is winning out over Halloween preparation time.

Since losing my job last winter, I'll admit I've been coasting along. Looking for an ideal job. But it appears that "ideal" jobs are few and far between here. As least for me. Now, with my unemployment benefits about to expire, I have some real thinking to do. I hate that. Although the choices are relatively simple. I could continue to search for an appealing job and try to get by with less money. I could return to school and train for something for which there might be a demand. Risky. Or I could hopefully return to an old, if not exactly ideal, job. Maybe.

But, in the meantime, while I bounce those options around in my head, the Halloween clock is ticking. And I am finding it increasingly difficult to focus on pumpkins and costumes and props. But this weekend, I'm going to try my hardest to push the more serious thoughts aside for a while and just think of Halloween. Try to work on some props. Maybe visit a pumpkin patch (one more successful than my own). Otherwise, by the time Halloween arrives, I'll likely have made a decision. But I'll have missed all the fun.

turning leaves

The start of another autumn. The perfect day for a walk around my neighbourhood to enjoy the beginnings of the fall colours. And yes, I know autumn arrived three days ago. It's been a busy few weeks. Close enough.

I'm honoured

It's been a while since I've been the recipient of a blog award. I was beginning to fear I was losing my touch. Sliding rapidly downhill. Sinking into oblivion. But then along came Wendy The (Very) Good Witch to assure me that this was simply not true and to bestow upon me this lovely award. Thank you Wendy! You've made my otherwise dreary day.

But I can't simply grab the award and run. No. There are rules to follow and work to do:

1. Thank the person who gave this to you.
Done.

2. Copy the Logo and Place it in your Blog.
Also done.

3. Link the person who nominated you.
Once again, done.

4. Name 7 things about yourself that no one would really know.

Hmmmm . . . this requires some thought.
1. I collect old time radio shows.
2. I'm re-building my childhood Nancy Drew collection.
3. I have a modest collection of Star Trek action figures.
4. I'm working to overcome my habit of collecting things.
5. I love vintage photographs, even of people I don't know.
6. I've kept scrapbooks since long before it was trendy.
7. As I child, I would sneak into the kitchen and drink maple syrup by the glass.

5. Nominate 7 "Kreativ Bloggers".

Okay. Let's be clear. These are only 7 of my many favourites. Not a comprehensive list at all.

Frog On The Pumpkin

Chronically Vintage

Weird Hollow

Wouldn't You Like To See Something Strange

The Captain's Ramblings

Ghostly Pumpkins

Confessions Of A Pagan Soccer Mom

6. Post links to the 7 blogs you nominate.
See above.

7. Leave a comment on each of the blogs and let them know you nominated them.
I'd rather let it be a surprise.

treats

A tower of Halloween treats stands near the cash registers at my neighbourhood grocery store.

The scariest part is how many you end up eating if you buy them too early.

brains and coffee

It's not every day that I open my mailbox and like what I see inside. In fact, I rarely do. But yesterday, I turned the key, opened the little silver door, and out spilled . . . brains and coffee.

Or, rather, a book containing those words in the title.



Yes, my eagerly-anticipated, personally-autographed tome detailing the ongoing brains vs. coffee debate had arrived. As I enthusiastically flipped through the pages, my eyes came to rest on a particular favourite:

Sound advice indeed as I select this year's Halloween recipes.

". . . the monster stalks again"

Another weekend. Another classic Frankenstein movie.

In Ghost of Frankenstein, there is much anger and unrest in the village of Frankenstein. The surrounding countryside associates the village with the monster. Quite understandably, they are staying away. The economy is faltering. Children are going hungry.

What to do? Change the name of the village perhaps? No. The obvious solution is to take up flaming torches and march of into the night with dynamite to destroy what remains of Dr. Frankenstein's home.

Ironically, this wanton destruction uncovers the monster, who had been safely buried beneath a pile of sulphur (?) inside the house. When he emerges, his faithful friend Ygor is there waiting for him. Another miraculous survivor of the previous film.

Ygor and the monster escape through a fog-shrouded graveyard and before long arrive in the town of Vasaria, where yet another son of the original Dr. Frankenstein is living quietly. Under an assumed name? No. Ludwig Frankenstein is a prominent doctor in the town. Oddly enough, no one connects him to the ostracized village of Frankenstein, which appears to be within walking distance. How fortunate for him.

Ludwig wants nothing to do with the monstrous experiments of his father and brother. That's why he's taken such care to preserve and hide their notes. So, needless to say, it's not long before he's persuaded to change his mind. Right the wrongs of his forbears and all that. Not surprisingly, the situation quickly deteriorates.

In the end, the countryside is safe and peaceful again. At least for a while. And we are left to ponder the implications of brain transplants and the wisdom of keeping an air-tight gas chamber in the home.

This was the last of Universal's classic Frankenstein films in which the monster appeared independently. After this came the movies featuring multiple monsters. Probably a wise decision of Boris Karloff's to walk away from the role when he did. Lon Chaney Jr. took over the monster's role from Boris Karloff for this film and reportedly had a difficult time tolerating the costume. His discomfort appears to have spilled over into his performance. He looks like he's suffering from a killer migraine throughout the film. He was probably relieved to return to his Wolfman role.

uncorked

With wine corks piling up in the junk drawer, it was time to paint up a few more cork ornaments for the Halloween tree.

Must make a mental note to switch to rum for a while.

in stores now

The first bins of pumpkins have begun appearing at grocery stores. Look at them. Sitting there. Mocking my pumpkin crop failure.

pumpkins' (lack of) progress

It's official. I have a black thumb.

I suspected as much when I was unsuccessful in my attempts to grow carrots. And cucumbers. And basil. Easy crops, by all accounts.

But, ignoring my past failures, I eagerly forged ahead with my plans to grow my very own pumpkins this year. And for much of the season, I had reason to be optimistic. I varied my methods, starting some indoors and some outdoors. Some behind the house and some beside it. Some horizontally and some vertically. And many of the seeds germinated. Those were exciting days in the pumpkin patch.


They grew quickly at first. Dare I say thrived.


Big, bright, orange flowers appeared. Vines began to stretch and climb and attach themselves to anything in their path.

And then, it all seemed to stop. Plant growth slowed to a barely noticeable pace. Flowers still appeared. But they were never followed by the anxiously anticipated pumpkins. None. Not one.

Where had it all gone wrong? Not enough sun? Not enough water? Too much water? In an effort to identify the problem, I began to read up on pumpkin plants. I learned some amazing things. Like how to distinguish male flowers from female flowers. A quick inspection revealed that all the flowers currently on my plants were male. None sat on the little "thrones" that would eventually grow into pumpkins. Was that even possible?

Then I began seeing photos of the rapidly-growing pumpkins of other, more successful gardeners. Hearing tales of pumpkins simply growing randomly from last fall's dropped seeds. Accidentally. With little or no effort required. My sadness was complete.

So it appears that I'll once again be purchasing my pumpkins. But in the words of the ever-optimistic Linus Van Pelt: "Just wait until next year!" A new strategy is already being plotted.



I suppose I should be thankful I don't live in an era in which people relied on their own crops for survival. The law of natural selection would have disposed of me years ago.

". . . shadows of the past"

The saga of the monster who refused to die continues with Son of Frankenstein. This weekend's classic horror pick. I was drawn to this film not only by the presence of both Boris Karloff and Bela Lugosi, but also by the appearance of Basil Rathbone, one of my favourite radio actors. I've not seen him in a movie role before and he fit into the classic horror atmosphere quite nicely.

It's been 40 years since the events of The Bride of Frankenstein. At least. It must be, since the movie opens with the return of Dr. Frankenstein's son, who's 40 if he's a day. And I can recall no Frankenstein children running through the earlier films.

At least 40 years have passed then, but the townspeople all remember the doctor and his monster very well indeed. So well in fact, that the name of the town has been changed to Frankenstein. Curious. Nevertheless, they are wary when the son of Dr. Frankenstein returns to claim his inheritance and take up residence there with his wife and young son. Apparently, it's one thing to re-name the town Frankenstein, but quite another to have one of them actually living there.

All is well until Frankenstein encounters Ygor. A former blacksmith convicted of stealing dead bodies, Ygor managed to walk away from his own execution and has been hiding out in Dr. Frankenstein's abandoned laboratory with the not-quite-dead monster. It's not difficult to see where this is going.

Ygor suggests that Frankenstein follow in his father's footsteps by reviving the monster, and despite his earlier assurances to the townspeople, he agrees. Why not? But when dead bodies begin appearing, the townspeople become suspicious and reach for their flaming torches. Never a good sign.

The movie ends somewhat abruptly. As if the director was suddenly given five minutes to wrap it all up. And (almost) everyone lives happily ever after.

Son of Frankenstein marks Boris Karloff's last film appearance as the monster. Probably a wise decision. Reportedly, it was also Karloff's request that the monster not speak in this film. Not such a wise decision. It de-humanizes him and what's left is simply a lumbering villain. But even lumbering through creepy fog-shrouded graveyards, it isn't enough to re-capture the charm of the earlier films.

neon

I didn't own anything in neon colours back in the 80's. Those headache-inducing shades of pink, orange, green and yellow mercifully passed me by. Unscathed. But in case I have any subconscious regrets, it's not too late. Neon is back. And just in time for Halloween.

bottom of the treat bag

While I'm a fan of all of Dave Lowe's Para Abnormal cartoons, these down-and-out candy barflies have a special place in my heart. Or maybe it's guilt. I'm sure I've contributed to their feelings of inadequacy on more than one occasion.

the halloween tree

From a distance, the clusters of bright orange berries on these trees, scattered throughout my neighbourhood, look like miniature jack-o-lanterns or plastic candy buckets.

Apparently, what I call a Mountain Ash is also known as a Rowan Tree. Or a Whispering Tree. Witchwood. Witchbane. Witchen. To name just a few. According to folklore, this was the tree on which the Devil hanged his mother. It was also kept in houses to guard against lightning and planted on graves to keep the deceased from haunting and used to protect against assorted types of evil.

A Halloween tree on so many levels.

creature feature

With the Labour Day weekend and the symbolic end of summer upon us, it seemed appropriate to plan a weekend of movies that encompassed sunshine, warm temperatures, and fun in the water. In short, a Creature from the Black Lagoon movie marathon.

It puzzles me when the creature is linked with other classic horror monsters like Dracula and the Wolfman. A product of their time, these creature movies are really more sci-fi than classic horror. But why quibble?

In the first of the creature films, Creature from the Black Lagoon, our story opens with a geologist finding an interesting fossil along the Amazon. Intrigued, he gathers a team of scientists for further exploration, hires a riverboat captain and returns to the site. The riverboat captain appears to be a long-lost relative of Bogart's character in The African Queen. Or perhaps there's an unspoken rule requiring jungle riverboat captains to be scruffy, cigar-chomping men of dubious character. If so, Lucas is ideal. As for the remainder of the team, I would have attempted to recruit scientists who were not embroiled in a love triangle. But maybe that's just me.

Onward then. Their fossil search takes them to the Black Lagoon. Home of the creature. Who keeps his distance for a while. But then he spots Kay (the movie's essential screaming, fainting, female character) and the love triangle quickly becomes a rectangle.

The creature is a formidable foe despite an aversion to light and that pesky inability to remain out of water for extended periods. He displays impressive intelligence and frequently elicits sympathy. Too bad the characters in the film didn't share my opinion.

While the creature's survival is in doubt at the film's end, it's heartening to see him alive and well in Revenge of the Creature.

The creature, now referred to as the "gill-man", is still living in the Amazon, minding his own business. But he has attracted the attention of the outside world. Because along the river comes another boat-load of scientists captained once again by Lucas (on his new boat: the Rita 2).



This time, no one is looking for fossils. They're here to find the "gill-man", subdue him, capture him, and return with him to Florida where he can be studied and spend his spare time as a tourist attraction. The plan works perfectly. For a while.

Before long, however, the "gill-man" is attracted to yet another screaming, fainting female scientist. Clearly, he has learned nothing from his previous experiences. The situation deteriorates rapidly. And predictably.

But the creature proves amazingly resilient. And he returns again, alive and well, in The Creature Walks Among Us.

Another team of scientists. Another attempt to study the creature. Another love triangle. But no Captain Lucas on his boat on the Amazon this time. Seems the creature never left Florida after his last adventure.

During the capture attempt, there is an unfortunate incident involving fire, and when the smoke clears, the creature is transformed by his captors into an air-breathing animal. But he's not happy.

This sequel focuses more on theme and less on action than the previous two. Excruciatingly so. So much so that I dozed off at a couple of points. On a positive note, however, there was much less screaming and fainting. At least during the parts when I was awake. And the final scene is poignant. A fitting end to the last of the creature films.

But now, back to fog-shrouded graveyards and torch-wielding villagers.