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Bupkus going on today. I'm only posting so I don't fall out of the habit. Fall is finally settling in here, and the thirteen crates of British tea ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
aculeatus sent for my birthday will serve me in good stead as the temperatures plummet and my feet freeze and turn alarming shades of blue and purple. I'm sipping some now, in fact.
Four days before Halloween, and once again, there has been a dearth of Halloween programming. AMC has its Monsterfest, and Sci-Fi is doing its best, but the networks are a bust. At least I have a treasure trove of DVDs that will fill the bill wonderfully.
When I was a kid, Halloween was a cause celebre. The stores had costumes and decorations out the wazoo, the schools had parties, and TV was rife with slasher flicks and spooky tales. I never went trick-or-treating because my mother was too busy trying to keep her tenuous grip on her sanity and the bills, and even if she hadn't been, there was always the looming threat of razors in the apples and cyanide in the candy. Plus, there weren't that many costume selections for those who came with wheels. Personally, I think I would have made a ripping tea trolley.
Even though I never participated, I enjoyed the vicarious thrill of knowing that they were happening, that there were scary movies to be watched. It was the last deep breath before the mad rush and commercialism of Christmas. There was something organic about Halloween, a recollection of the shared past that resonated in the bones and made you want to gather around a fire and swap scary stories or go exploring in the graveyards when the moon was high.
Now, we jump from summer to Holiday Shopping Season, and it sucks. I want my ghouls and goblins and wee, leggedy beasties. I want to spend a night or four peering fretfully over the covers and wondering just what is lying in wait beneath my bed. I want Pumpkin Jack and the Bell Witch and Springheel Jack, the Jersey Devil and Bloody Mary.
Where did they all go, and who stole them? Humorless, unimaginative cunts. Being a child was usually a miserable, terrifying lesson in "for your own good". Halloween was one of the bright spots.
I wouldn't be a child now for all the tea in China.
aculeatus sent for my birthday will serve me in good stead as the temperatures plummet and my feet freeze and turn alarming shades of blue and purple. I'm sipping some now, in fact.Four days before Halloween, and once again, there has been a dearth of Halloween programming. AMC has its Monsterfest, and Sci-Fi is doing its best, but the networks are a bust. At least I have a treasure trove of DVDs that will fill the bill wonderfully.
When I was a kid, Halloween was a cause celebre. The stores had costumes and decorations out the wazoo, the schools had parties, and TV was rife with slasher flicks and spooky tales. I never went trick-or-treating because my mother was too busy trying to keep her tenuous grip on her sanity and the bills, and even if she hadn't been, there was always the looming threat of razors in the apples and cyanide in the candy. Plus, there weren't that many costume selections for those who came with wheels. Personally, I think I would have made a ripping tea trolley.
Even though I never participated, I enjoyed the vicarious thrill of knowing that they were happening, that there were scary movies to be watched. It was the last deep breath before the mad rush and commercialism of Christmas. There was something organic about Halloween, a recollection of the shared past that resonated in the bones and made you want to gather around a fire and swap scary stories or go exploring in the graveyards when the moon was high.
Now, we jump from summer to Holiday Shopping Season, and it sucks. I want my ghouls and goblins and wee, leggedy beasties. I want to spend a night or four peering fretfully over the covers and wondering just what is lying in wait beneath my bed. I want Pumpkin Jack and the Bell Witch and Springheel Jack, the Jersey Devil and Bloody Mary.
Where did they all go, and who stole them? Humorless, unimaginative cunts. Being a child was usually a miserable, terrifying lesson in "for your own good". Halloween was one of the bright spots.
I wouldn't be a child now for all the tea in China.
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