Post Halloween Post.

OK, we made it through another Halloween relatively unscathed. There were literally hundreds of little ones parading through the store yesterday afternoon immediately following the ‘best costume contest’, which, thankfully was not a Sarah Palin look-alike.

There were Princess Leias, Darth Vaders, Sponge Bobs, Batmen, Maids, Tarts of every sort – sorry, I mean Brittanys, and the usual witches, vampires, goblins and skeletons. There was one gentle little guy, a bit on the heavy side, dressed as Robin Hood – tights and all – who drew a few smirks and sniggers. I felt proud of him for some reason. He was having a bang up time and his parents let him be his hero. He told me his mom helped make the costume, which was quite nice. He made the hat himself. How good is that.

We went through FIVE huge bags of every kind of candy imaginable and the rug rats just kept on coming. Local Dentists will be very pleased, I’m sure.

I left as things began to get ugly thanks some obnoxious little twerp who missed out at our store and demanded to know why…no really, hands on hips and all.

If I pulled that when I was a kid I’d have had my ass handed to me. Being a southern boy manners were very important, so if you didn’t go to school with someone – and they were older – you called them Ma’am, and Sir. Mister so-and so, or Miss so-and-so.

Back at the apartment was a lot saner. The neighbor across the way has a wagon and takes all the kids on a hay ride regaling them with ghost stories and pretty much scaring the crap out of them so they’re not in any mood to be walking down this lonesome road in the dark begging for candy. A blessing. And the families love it.

There were many adult costume events going on last evening it town – two of my favourite bartenders were dressing as football players – one as a wide receiver and the other as a tight end. Their outfits were extravagant and I am sure they had a great time.

I enjoyed a quiet supper, a bit of TV news, and read until I fell asleep.

Oh, don’t forget to turn your clocks back tonight before turning in. I hate this because now it’s not only dark when I leave for work; it’s dark when I return. For the life of me I still haven’t figured out how extending DST two months has saved energy.

But that’s just me.

It’s cocktail time and I smell olives.

YES!

Three more days…

And so it goes.

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