Nontraditional Halloween

Wow, what a world of woe we are experiencing here in the East in the aftermath of Hurricane Sandy! If you love big, old trees (which I do), this is a heartbreaking time. All over the place they are lying uprooted, in lawns, on cars, on houses. And of course there are limbs down everywhere, so much so that it's frightening just to walk around. More could come down at any time.

I couldn't argue with Snobville's decision to postpone trick-or-treating until Friday. I would almost agree with Governor Wheezer Christie that it should be held on Monday. Nevertheless, I'm having Mr. J go out today and stock some more candy in anticipation of little cutie pies in costumes. Also, my dear friend the Monkey Man is coming for supper and a home town football game. Go Wombats!

This Samhain was a non-traditional holy eve, and I have to thank my dear father for his spiritual guidance.

Dad was not the kind of man to be sad for long. He found the fun in every situation. My maternal grandmother was much the same, even more so. Therefore, they led me into a shiny platinum prank on my daughter The Spare.

It occurred to me over a cup of tea in the late afternoon. It was Halloween, and The Spare had a scheduled class until 10:00 p.m.

Back story: When I was a teenager, growing up in the country, my gang and I would toilet paper houses. Not just at Halloween, either. All year long. We called ourselves the Wholly Rollers, and we did some whopper jobs. Out where I grew up, everyone had huge trees in their yards, and toilet tissue was affordable. We got such a rep for TP that people "contracted" us to do houses. Maybe I'll blog more about this, if you'd like some anecdotes.

Anyway, I got the idea to toilet paper Spare's desk and bed in her dorm room. Heir supplied the name of a roomie (Spare has three), and as luck would have it, that roomie was home. (Facebook is a marvel in these situations. There was no problem getting in touch with this delightful roommate.)

Mr. J and I drove into Philly. Roomie met us at the guard desk, and we proceeded to Spare's room. There I expertly wrapped her desk, paying particular attention to mummifying the picture of her beloved feline. We moved to the bed ... the extensive jewelry rack ... the full-length mirror ... the dresser. Toilet papering is like riding a bike. You never forget how to do it. I only used one piece of tape.

Photos to come. I'm at school right now.

I also left behind a little jack-o-lantern with candy, and a little bit of paper that college students really need, this one with Andrew Jackson on the front. I also left a "Wholly Rollers" calling card, as Spare knows of my checkered youth in great detail.

Two hours later I got a phone call. "You are the best mother in the world."

On Samhain, the veil is thin. If your family ran high to pranksters, they may stock your brain with notions that would not necessarily occur to you. This happened to me, it raised my spirits in more ways than one.

A happy new year to all. Did you make a resolution? I did. Pass the toilet paper!

For the record, Spare's 2012 costumes:
Rosie the Riveter
Angler fish
cat