Last night’s party went so very well! Here, Matthew and I pose for the camera in our costumes, before the guests arrive. He went as a janitor; I, his bag of garbage :-)
And here’s a sweet photo of our pumpkins, shining brightly on my front porch last night.
Tonight, I’m super excited about handing out candy to the little kids in my neighborhood!
Matthew did a wonderful job carving our pumpkins last night. I’ll post photos of the finished products later.
Sunday is Halloween. Saturday is the Halloween party. Matthew and I need costumes. We considered a couple’s costume (Simon and Garfunkel, etc.). It’s now T-minus seven days.
Any ideas? I don’t want to spend more than $5, maybe $10.
This is so, so wrong.
(But it’s so, so funny.)
http://www.daddydesign.com/Barney.html
I have my first official “cool” interview for the Headin’ Out page on Wednesday. It’s with Mr. Matthew Sweet, who’ll be in Omaha Nov. 4. Since Jason left, I took over the Headin’ Out page, in addition to my other duties at the paper. Turns out to be a fabulous opportunity, since I’ll get to chat with musicians, artists and the like.
Like on Friday, when I spent the afternoon at the Joslyn Art Museum. They offered a special preview for media folks of their new exhibit, “From Renaissance to Rococo: Masterpieces from the Collection of the Wadsworth Atheneum Museum of Art.” How great! The exhibit is gorgeous, and I’d recommend it to everyone. (Read Wednesday’s Headin’ Out page for further details.)
Matthew, who joined me, loved it, too.
Ever notice that we didn’t start calling milk “white milk” until we discovered chocolate milk? Milk is only milk when it’s alone. When it’s next to chocolate milk, it’s white milk.
Hrumph.
I realized that I need the four seasons as I need chapters of a book. I need change. I need a beginning and an end. I need to be able to say, “I made it.” The four seasons allow that. The mist clings to my spectacles, indicating that fall has arrived in all her beauty, all her glory. While visiting my sister in California last week, I realized how stagnant the weather is. Sure, it’s gorgeous 95 percent of the time there. But there’s little change. There’s nothing that says, “Fall is here. Winter is here. Spring is here.” (Summer is always there.) I need to hear the crunch of the leaves underneath my Chuck Taylors. The leaves say, “You survived the summer. Something new is about to begin.” And it always does. Fall, perhaps my favorite of the four seasons, turns the page. It’s about adapting to cooler weather. We scurry indoors when the rain and cold and wind lick our faces. We venture outdoors so that we may return indoors, under fleece blankets with those we love. Here in Nebraska, we are given the opportunity to retreat night after night, embracing the cold outdoors only for a second, knowing the sweet splendor of hot cocoa, warm slippers and fiery furnaces.
There’s fog settling in right now. It is breathtaking to watch it slowly creep atop the city, ushering in a night of calm for some, turmoil for others. But under that blanket of Mother Nature is a serenity that, tomorrow, will still be fall. Almost as if we’re on a schedule, knowing we have few days until winter begins.
And then it starts, all over again.
