weaponry

I knew those rusty old curtain rods languishing in the basement laundry room would prove useful one day. As it turns out, with the addition of some unwanted plastic containers, some cardboard and, of course, duct tape, they make quite admirable Gaffi sticks.

blossoming

Despite an early casualty, these are heady days in the pumpkin patch. Flowers have begun to appear, filling my heart with hope for an actual pumpkin this year. I'd be happy with just one. Really. I'm easily pleased.

My husband has finally recognized the pumpkin plants growing merrily in the front yard, and despite his earlier objections, hasn't complained. Maybe it's the heat. Or maybe it's the sight of those vivid green leaves contrasted against big yellow flowers. After all, who could fail to love a sincere pumpkin patch.

O Great Pumpkin, please don't fail me now.

an awarding experience

I was thrilled when I sat down at my computer this morning to discover that I have had not one, but two blogging awards bestowed upon me. And by two vegans. This is almost enough to inspire me to give up bacon. Almost.



The first came courtesy of The Spooky Vegan , whose blog I discovered relatively recently when I noticed her creeping around behind mine. I was quite moved by her effusive praise of my blog and will admit that I got more than a little choked up when she referred to me as both kooky and creepy in the same sentence. Thank you, Spooky Vegan. I've been enjoying your blog too, although I will admit to scrolling quickly past the horror movie screen shots. They scare me.

The second award was sent by another herbivore: The Creepy Vegan. It was with a mixture of horror and surprise that I noticed I have not been following her blog. That situation has since been remedied. Thank you, Creepy Vegan.

This award comes with a longer set of rules than the first, requiring me to actually think. Of seven things about myself. Hmmmm . . . okay.

1] Vampires scare me . . .

2] . . . and the only exception is the Count from Sesame Street . . .

3] . . . although as a child I found him slightly disturbing.

4] My favourite flavour of miniature bags of Halloween chips was Hot Dog . . .

5] . . . and I was devastated when they were discontinued.

6] As a child, we never grew real pumpkins, despite having a large garden, and the only jack-o-lanterns I had were of the plastic variety.

7] I abhor pumpkin seeds.

Like many fellow bloggers, I will be ignoring the rule about choosing a few favourite blogs. At last count, I was following more than 80, so I wouldn't know where to begin. And I've noticed that not following the rules is the new rule.

Thanks again, Spooky and Creepy.

distracted

I am both horrified and embarrassed to admit this, but it's mid-summer and Halloween is the furthest thing from my mind.

I haven't planned props or pondered pumpkins in weeks. Even the 100-days-til-Halloween milestone has passed nearly unnoticed.

Why?

Because every spare moment of my time has been consumed by the creation of the Tusken Raider costumes for Hal-con. This has proven to be a far more time-consuming project than I had anticipated back in the cold dark days of winter when, inspired by my son's heart-warming agreement to participate in Halcon if we wore a group costume that covered his face, I committed myself to throwing together four quick Tusken Raider costumes. How much effort could it take?

I'm glad I didn't wait until September to begin.

The speed, or lack thereof, with which the project is progressing is at least partly my fault. My fault for relying on a needle and thread instead of glue, despite my non-existent sewing skills. My fault for improvising, rather than precisely following one of the many Tusken Raider instructional websites. My fault for attempting to re-purpose pieces of household clutter as costume parts, which leaves me absolutely giddy when it succeeds.

But there is a light - an orange flickering light - on the horizon.

I believe I have completed enough of the costumes now to slow down. Take a short break. Turn a fraction of my attention to other things. Like Halloween, perhaps. And I know that any day now the first of the Halloween magazines will begin appearing, which always excite and inspire me. Even the cheesy ones.

attachment issues

I don't trust glue.

I know that sounds ridiculous. I know my distrust is groundless. I know that there is an almost endless variety of glue out there. Strong and durable. Waterproof. Perfectly trustworthy.

Perhaps I should refine my original statement. I don't trust glue . . . on fabric. No matter how reliable it promises to be, I have an irrational fear that my project will be the exception. The 0.01% And that my glue-secured fabric will separate and unravel at the most inopportune moment.

I feel so much more comfortable with a needle and thread. Extra-strong thread. Yes, it makes the process of creating a Tusken Raider head a little more time-consuming. But the way I see it, I'm not just sewing head wrappings.

I'm sewing peace of mind.

first casualty

It was a depressing morning in the pumpkin patch. It seems one of my pumpkin plants - only one - has been completely devoured over the course of the past several nights. It began with a few holes chewed through the leaves. Similar to some of the others. But then this morning, I discovered most of the leaves on this plant had been eaten away entirely. Only the naked stems remain. The other dozen or so plants are fine.

Odd.

in the heat of the day

So I was sitting on the deck watching the beginnings of my Tusken Raider head quietly drying in the breeze.



After a time, however, this lost its appeal and I returned inside to do something productive. Like . . . make a cup of tea. Or spend time on the Internet.

I later returned to check on the head's progress. And my heart almost stopped.

Somewhere. Somewhere within the trivial details and useless minutiae I've accumulated in my brain over the years lies the knowledge that hot weather does bad things to balloons. Knowledge painfully acquired through years of outdoor decorating for children's birthday parties in the often oppressive heat of an Ontario June. Sadly, upon my return to Nova Scotia, that knowledge had been submerged. Only to come rushing back as I stared out the window at the Tusken Raider head. A mere fraction of its former size and imploding by the second.

There was no time to lose. I grabbed a styrofoam head, which, fortunately, are never far away. I burst what was left of the balloon and shaped the still-damp head around the styrofoam. Thankfully, it would survive.

And the moral of this story . . . ?

Apart from keeping balloons out of extreme summer heat, the implication here is obvious:

Never leave a drying head unattended. Ever. This may require considerable sacrifice. Take a stack of books along if necessary, or perhaps a cold drink or two, and remain vigilant in your deck chair until the drying stage is complete. And always - always - keep a spare head within easy reach.

the geek family prepares for Hal-Con (update)

There is no finer pastime on a warm sunny morning than watching a Tusken Raider head drying in the breeze.

time's a-wastin'

In my memory, the last days of high school never seemed especially intense. Final exams. Prom. Graduation. It all seemed to just . . . happen. Or maybe I was just more laid-back then. Because the last three weeks of my daughter's high school career have been nothing less than a blur of madness.

But now it's over. And I'm happy to say that it ended well. Which means I can finally focus on myself again. A welcome change. And a necessary one when I check the calendar and observe with mixed emotions Halloween's stealthy approach. The dollar store will be displaying its finest plastic any day now and I'm ridiculously far behind. My well-intentioned Halloween resolution of one prop a month? A complete embarrassment. I think I'm still in March . . .

Moving ahead to July, however, the removal of the kayaks from the backyard shed have revealed some half-forgotten potential prop parts. Triggering memories of nebulous ideas and loosely-formed plans which may yet come to fruition.

But first . . . there's a certain Tusken Raider head I need to work on.