Flashback: 2009 Summer Reading List

This post originally ran at the website of my gracious host, Spanitz Consulting.  Books don't really go out of style, and the following are still good reads for adults and teens alike.  Even if it's a little early in the season for the swimming pool, it's never too early in the season for a good book.

It's that time of year. The kids are bored, the pool has lost its lustre (maybe something to kill the green stuff would help), and now it's starting to rain. Nothing better than a trip to the library to calm things down and get kids reading and thinking about other things. The young adult section has long been a favorite place to find books for me, and there are selections there that will intrigue readers of any age, from fantasy to realistic fiction. Here are a few of my recommendations:

Chanda's Wars - written by Allan Stratton.      Chanda is a teen-aged African girl, left in charge of her younger brother and sister in a (fictional) war-torn African country. Her mother died from AIDS, as have many others in the village, but no one will be honest about that. Chanda must travel to see her mother's family, which involves an unreliable transit system, dodging an evil general who could easily be taken from the pages of any real-life newspaper, and dealing with her mother's family - who hopes to "right a wrong" by marrying her to a neighboring family. Readers in the U.S. might wonder what they'd have in common with Chanda, but fear not: many teens are left to fend for themselves, living by their wits, and bearing the load of the upbringing of younger siblings. There is lots to think about in Chanda's story, and also look for Chanda's Secrets, which is also on my "to read" list. I find the juxtoposition of cell phones and witch doctors to be very interesting.


Mexican White Boy - Matt de la Pena.     Danny is half Mexican, half white. He can't seem to identify with either part of his heritage and this presents problems for him. His parents are divorced, and Danny is convinced it was his dad's "Mexican-ness" that sent him back to Mexico - he couldn't bear living in an area where white people looked down on Mexicans. Danny seeks to connect to his dad by spending summers with his dad's family, but feels like an outsider there - the only Mexican who can't speak Spanish. The novel addresses identity issues faced by bi-racial kids (Danny meets and is eventually befriended by a teen who is half African-American, and half Mexican), life as depicted by de la Pena in a predominantly Spanish neighborhood, and the secrets a family will keep in order to protect their children.


Wintergirls - Laurie Halse Anderson         Lia is a teen who has always wanted to be thin. She and her friend, Cassie, competed to be the thinnest girl in school. Cassie purged, Lia just quit eating - except the bare minimum. Their friendship ends, and after Cassie's death, Lia is haunted by the ghost of her friend. Lia struggles with the last moments of Cassie's death (I won't spoil any more for you), her relationships with her mother, step-mother & father, and wanting to be "normal" like other girls. She wants to eat, but can't - she sees rolls of fat when in reality, she is referred to as "dead girl walking" within the halls of her school. Does Lia listen to Cassie's ghost? You'll have to read to find out.

Full Service - Will Weaver     Having been a fan of Will Weaver's Billy Baggs novels (Striking Out, Farm Team, Hard Ball) I fully expected this novel to incorporate baseball as a running theme. Instead, Weaver gives us a story about Paul Sutton, a teenage boy from a religious family (think a combination of Menonnite and Amish) who finds a job in town, at the full-service gas station. It's Paul's first real exposure to "the public," as his mother puts it, and some of it is a rude awakening for him. Others are less tolerant of his family's religious beliefs - especially as other young men are shipped off to Vietnam, but no one in Paul's religious sect is part of the draft. Others are just plain intolerant of anything or anyone different, as evidenced by Kurt as he meets a hippie passing through the town. An especially poignant scene, I felt, was when Paul heads to the local barber for a haircut. We feel outrage for Paul, but at the end of the chapter, we can feel sympathy also for the barber. This is an excellent novel that shows, realistically, Paul's experiences in not only learning his way around "the public," but finding out more about himself and his place within his family and their religious community.

Claws -another novel by Will Weaver, this novel is built around an Anton Chekov quote " Life will sooner or later show its claws." This is all too true for Jed Berg, whose life is turned upside down by a goth-type girl with pink hair, the growing distance between his parents, and a series of events and actions that takes Jed from the golden spotlight and shoves him into the outer fringes of "those" kids - the ones your parents don't want you to hang out with. Jed is definitely in a downward spiral, and struggling to find his way back to the surface. How he does it, and with whose help, are some surprising twists to the story.

Scat - Carl Hiaasen      While I've never been a fan of Hiaasen's adult fiction, I do enjoy the young adult fiction he writes. Hoot was my first introduction to Hiaasen, and Flush is on my "to read" list, still. Scat is a novel that will grab even a reluctant reader's interest. Who couldn't be interested in finding out what happens to Ms. Bunny Starch, most feared science teacher ever, who disappears on a field trip to a nature preserve? Hiaasen's formula seems to be to take a couple of kids who are slight or full-blown misfits, toss in an environmental issue, a few dangerous adults and situations, and shake well. The results are a novel with humor, a true perspective of how kids see some of the adults in their lives, and a healthy, non-preachy but thoughtful dose of our effects on the environment. I also enjoy the cover art, but that's really nothing to do with the plotline, now is it?

adult non-fiction

That Went Well: Adventures in Caring for My Sister - Terrell Harris Dougan In a departure from my usual fiction offerings, here is a work that focuses on the non-fictional. If you've ever been a caregiver for anyone, you'll find lots to relate to in Dougan's writing. If you've ever been the caregiver for someone who is mentally impaired, you will definitely find lots to relate to in this writing. Dougan's sister is Irene, a woman who is mentally and emotionally impaired. Terrell & Irene's parents are ahead of their time - rather than institutionalize Irene, which would have been expected and forgiven back in the 1940s and 1950s, they keep Irene at home. Their efforts are met with applause by some, especially those who chose to keep their impaired children within the family, too. Mr. Harris places an ad in the newspaper to invite parents and children to begin a daycare/playgroup and the response is overwhelming. Others are derisive, and firmly of the belief that Irene does not belong in society - claiming the parents have spoiled her, and ruined any chances for Irene to develop any self-sufficiency. As what seems inevitable will happen, and Terrell discovers one day that she is the sole person in the universe who is left to care for her sister. Irene doesn't do well in group homes, but flourishes with her own space and a nurse/companion to supervise and assist her. Irene is at times equally aggravating and loveable, and any person who is a primary caregiver will empathize with Dougan as she struggles with keeping absolute control over her sister, yet trying to relinquish enough of that control so Irene can be her own person.




From Spanitz Consulting, Inc. - www.spanitz.com - 888.SPANITZ - 888.772.6489

book against a blue sky photo - Lisa Danilko, flickr.com
Historic building - Bay County Library System

Your Children, Your Values

Don't know if I've mentioned it, but I'm taking a college class this spring.  There is quite a variety of people, and I find that fascinating.  Several sessions now I've sat by a nice young man (ok, I'm old enough to be his mother so don't ask for any other description) and finally I worked up the courage to ask him where his home country is.

He is from Saudi Arabia, and has been a student in the U.S. for a few years.

Another young man in the class (with a really nice wink ) is from Tanzania, and has been working and going to school in the U.S. for several years now.  He has a family here, unlike my Saudi classmate who hasn't seen his family in a few years.

There are also some young women who, from their dress, are possibly Muslim, but I'm not sure from where exactly. Some time I hope to find out.

Anyway, aside from the interesting things we discuss in literature class that we discover are universal to all cultures - a mother-in-law who is just a torment, anyone? teen-aged rebellion? rite of passage rituals? - I wonder about one thing, mainly.

When your child goes to a foreign country to live and to study, what are a parent's expectations for that child maintaining and living the values and mores (think "more-ays" - I still haven't figured out accent marks yet) of your homeland?

When you are raising your family in a foreign country, how do you instill in your children the values and mores of your home country - when all around you, and especially in the United States (I believe) there are so many other influences that might be considered less than . . . appropriate . . . for lack of a better word . . .?  What influences do parents try to shield their children from, when they don't have extended family for added support?

Have any readers out there lived in other countries besides their "home" country, and had to think about this? What are your thoughts?

Shake it up, Baby

I'm not fulfilling my momly outrage if I don't post this link to the 8-and-9 year old girls dancing to Beyonce's Single Ladies .  Many of you have probably seen this video already on various news shows. 

Why the outrage? The girls are talented, phenomenal dancers.  Their performance is flawless.  The energy and excitement of the crowd is evidence of how well they perform. 

I can't even say I'm 100% outraged.  Perhaps "saddened" is more accurate.

While the dance competition of Single Ladies is a pleasure to view, in that the technical moves are incredibly spot-on and wonderfully executed, I can't help but wonder why such young girls would have to do such risque dance moves.

I wonder if the performers had been twelve, or perhaps 16, if there would be such a hue and outcry.

Some parents I've talked with have had differing opinions.  Most of the moms agree that there is no way their little girls would participate in a dance such as this, competition or not.

One dad responded, and he's an older dad, his little girls all grown up.  He remarks that when his girls were involved in dance competitions, there were certain rules and guidelines to follow.  For example, costumes had to cover belly buttons.  Dance moves couldn't be overtly sexual in nature.  Dancers could be disqualified for not following the guidelines.

That said, the dad went on, his girls were competition dancing during Michael Jackson's heyday of "woo hoos" and crotch grabbing, and one of their songs imitated him.  The kids, he said, want to dance to what is popular.  The parents and competition-goers understand this.  However, they still had guidelines to meet.  The dance moves weren't "done to" a partner - no simulated sex, for instance - and no "objects" were used to imply anything untoward.

This dad's girls have grown up to be normal, well-adjusted, and productive citizens.

My first instinct, upon viewing the dance, was to say O M G.  Shocked.  Dismayed. Wondering why on earth the instructor decided this was appropriate for girls that age. I still wonder the last part, and I still think there are other dance moves this group of girls could have done that would have been just as electrifying and energizing for the audience. 

But, I remember piano lesons.  Remember those dull drills you'd have to play, based on classical music or perhaps composed of one or two, or if you were lucky, three notes, and they all had some cutesy title like "Danny & Donna Drive in Denver" or some such drivel?  Yeah, you remember.  You wanted to play the popular music, like Elton John, Peter Cetera, Lionel Ritchie, or the opening bars to Led Zeppelin's Stairway to Heaven.

Fast forward a few years to high school, when you  made the pom pon squad, the dance/drill team, or the majorettes.  Your band director chose marching music to play at halftime.  You had it and wanted to flaunt it.  You figured you could finally show off what you could really do when the band director changed the theme for halftime to . . . The Charleston?  The Charleston.  Seriously?  Yep.

Well - maybe it always wasn't quite like that, but you know what I'm saying.  You were young once, and you wanted to do the things that were popular and "in."  Your school still had standards and guidelines, though.  You had to follow them, or you'd be in some trouble.

The young dancers in "Single Ladies" probably don't realize how provocative their moves were. To them, it was just a dance - a challenging, invigorating, techinically executed wonder that garnered lots of praise as well as controversy.  They probably wonder what all the fuss was about.

People reacted strongly because the moves were mature for such young girls.  They felt the dance was inappropriate.  They feel that young kids are imitating adult things at too early an age, being bombarded with sexual messages far too early with clothing styles, music, movies, other media, etc. 

Is it entirely possible though, that parents can still influence their children and overrule those other, less savory, influences? 

I think so.  And how can I point a finger, when I allowed my pre-teen daughter to perform in our local school's production of "Grease"?  Anybody remember some of the songs in that show? 

Ok. Enough said by me. 

What are your thoughts?

Things I've Learned Lately

This has been an incredibly long week - one of those weeks where you look at the calendar and see that two days have passed but you feel like you've lived at least twice that many.

 

But, every day is still a learning experience, so here are some things I've learned this week ("frazzled" picture, gather.com).

• I learned that some electronic devices will survive the washer.  Don't rat me out to my spouse, but I accidentally picked up the remote control to the radio with the table linens.  This remote is about 1" x 3" in size, and very light, so I didn't notice it was missing until . . . I put the table linens in the dryer and saw the remote in the bottom of the washer.  Naturally I thought, "Oh crap," but the remote still worked.  I'll be more careful next time, because I doubt it would last through another washing cycle.
• I learned that people who are familiar with my writing know that I have a hard time keeping things brief.  This was cause for much humor this week as I handed my building principal a note and quipped, "As if you don't have enough to do today." He sighed heavily and said he still had to get the weekly newsletter out.  I said, "Let me do it."  He laughed and said, "Sorry, we're only allowed 1 page."  I insisted, "I can be brief.  Really."  He laughed again and said, "Yeah, right."  Ok, I give.  He's right.  I could be brief, but it would probably be so terse that any parent who reads the newsletter would think aliens had stolen their beloved principal or something.
• I learned that I shouldn't moan and groan over class work because once I get started, it might actually be interesting.  I had been groaning over having to read Ernest Hemingway for a class I'm taking, determined to just hate having to read that stuff again, forgetting that my exposure to Hemingway occurred in high school where the selections seemed obtuse and irrelevant.  Hemingway will likely not be a favorite author of mine, but I'm finding him much more tolerable and I find more to relate to now that I'm older.  It helps that the instructor is cheery, knowledgeable, and truly interested in what the students have to say.  One week of class later, I can truly say I'll be sad when it's all over in 6 weeks.

• I'm learning that there are lots of books out there and not nearly enough time to read them all.  I'd really like to read the Kurt Wallander, Swedish detective series, writen by Henning Mankell.  If you're too busy to read the novels, you can catch excellently televised productions of Wallander, starring Kenneth Branagh, on PBS "Mystery!".  Other novels I'd like to read include Jodi Picoult's "House Rules," about a teenaged boy with Asperger's Syndrome, and how he navigates that snake pit called high school. "The Weed that Strings the Hangman's Bag," by Alan Bradley, stars pre-teen Flavia as the mystery solver.  Seems an unlikely candidate to get involved in adult-style plots of murder and adultery, but apparently there's quite a following and also a few novels with Flavia as the central character.  I'm still reading Brandon Mull's "Fablehaven" novels, the latest Charlie Bone book by Jenny Nimmo, and reading s-l-o-w-l-y Victor Hugo's "Les Miserables," and still there is a stack of books, bedside, with authors Ellen Hopkins, Elizabeth George, and others, waiting to be opened.  I'll get there, I promise.  Don't dismiss young adult literature when you're browsing books, there's a lot of fun stuff out there.

• I learned that twenty dollars is a lot of money, and if the product you purchased for that amount doesn't hold up, you should insist on satisfaction.  My son got a new pair of tennis shoes on May 3, 2010, and by today they looked as though he'd worn them for six months.  The soles were wearing smooth already, and the rubbery textured doo-dads that make the sole colorful and collect all kinds of mud and small pebbles were peeling off and out, leaving gaps in the sole which would soon wear thin, making a hole, as happened with the previous pair.  I did tell the spouse to please not purchase that brand again, but the new shoes were on sale for $20. I was completely disgusted at having to take #1 Son to get another pair of brand new shoes to replace ones he didn't even have a chance to outgrow.  I spent a little bit more, but got a better-quality shoe (I hope).  We returned to the original place of purchase for that first pair, and I explained that the shoes were thirteen days old, they looked like they'd been worn for six months, the soles weren't holding up, and I'd like my money back.  The clerk offered a discount of that dollar amount toward the purchase of another pair.  I said, "Sorry, I've already replaced them.  Would store credit be an option?" She said that would be fine.  I  won't be purchasing shoes, but #1 Son enjoys Tiger baseball, so maybe we'll pick out a t-shirt some time soon.  My son was worried the clerk would call store security to deal with me, and was pleasantly surprised that though mom might spout off at home, she can use her manners in public places.

• If your daughter doesn't get her favorite clothing back from the wash soon enough, she will volunteer to do the laundry herself.  The only tweaking to this plan was rather than let her sift through the basket of clean laundry to grab the item she wanted, she is to fold all clothing that she washes and deposit it in the rooms of its wearers, just as mom does.  So far, she's two loads of laundry into this deal and not complaining yet.  Wheee!
• If you talk to other parents, you'll get some good ideas.  My kids have chores to do, but don't always do them. One parent said she designed a point system for her kids, and if they earn a certain number of points, they get a reward of some kind: a special treat, a certain dollar amount - they choose.  I'm planning to institute the system here, this summer.  This parent said her kids were so gung-ho, they compete to see who gets the most points rather than complain about having to take out the trash.

• Sometimes, "thinning the herds" is a good thing.  "Thinning the herds" is a phrase I use when it's time to get rid of old clothes, toys, books, etc.  My daughter and I tackled her room recently, and took out some things that she'd outgrown - toys, books, clothing, etc.  After the last nick-nack had been dusted and replaced, the throw rugs put on the floor, she said, "Wow! I feel really good about this!"  I did, too, and am hoping to duplicate the feeling with #1 Son and my husband because there's a neighborhood rummage sale coming up next month. It would be the perfect time to get rid of a few things we don't need.

• If you want Early Girl Tomato plants for your garden, you have to get them in at the end of April. Otherwise, they're hard to find. I have no explanation for this, except they must be a popular variety. Last year, I got garden plants mid-May, but couldn't find my Early Girls anywhere.  This year, score!  I'm hoping to have tomatoes by early July instead of August. 

• If it looks like rain, don't leave your umbrella in the car.   We had torrential rain earlier this week, and while heading in to work one morning, I left the umbrella in the car.  I really hate getting wet, but had to brave the elements on my way out to the parking lot.  Whine, whine.  I didn't melt, but next time - I'm taking the umbrella. (umbrella print - angiechan.com)
• The kids at school have me pegged, so on test day, it's better if I leave the room.One teacher I work with asks that kids do their own tests, with no help from us unless it's to understand the directions.  I agree, because otherwise how does one accurately assess what the student knows?  Try as I might, if asked a question, I will try to ask the kind of questions that will guide the student to remembering what they need to in order to solve the problem.  I learned that lately, the kids have been asking where I am during their science and social studies tests.  This cracks me up, because I'm only in the room for their math lessons.  The kids also think I am omniscient, and will ask me what they're supposed to do for other assignments - things I was not even aware they were doing. 
• Much as some of the student population drove me to distraction this week, I know at the end of the school year, I'm going to miss them when they move on to the next grade.  
• I need to purchase cereal in institutional-sized quantities.  My kids, for avowing they don't care much for cereal, sure do eat enough of it.  I like my cereal every morning, leaving poptarts, waffles, toaster-streudels, etc. to the kids.  Imagine my dismay when the only cereal left is Captain Crunch, and my Honey Bunches of Oats are all gone.  My husband thinks we're buying cereal for cattle.  So - institutional-sized boxes - or I'm going to have to hide my cereal.

I'm sure there are other things I've learned, but in the interest of keeping this short - don't laugh, this is short for me - it's time to sign off.  What have you learned, this week? 

More Things to do Online that Waste Time

Clearly, I'm spending far too much time online these days if I'm able to come up with a link to an item such as is pictured here, below.  If you're a fan of funny little bits like this, you might have to check the Historic LOLs and get a few more giggles.  I have yet to check every single post, but the ones I've seen have been rather clever.

 I can't help but wonder what our ancestors would have thought of such a magazine back in "the day" of 1690.  Would maidservants have clapped hands over the eyes of their young charges whilst in the marketplace, due to risque headlines on each magazine?

Assuming, of course, that the maidservants could read. 

Assuming, also, that the lady of the house could read and that perhaps her children might be learning such a skill. 

Well, you know what they say about "assume." 

You don't? Oh, ok.  Well, when one "assumes" something, it (potentially) makes an "ass" out of "u" and "me."

I digress.

I do find this Historical LOL clever because the articles it supposedly contains are just the sort of things that women back in that time period may have had concerns about.  Lice was a common enough affliction even for those in the wealthy classes.  How wonderful it would have been to find a way to banish it for good.  Luxury spa days at public baths? Sex advice? Fashion for the autumn season at court?  Well, and let's hear more about this fad of brushing teeth.  Why on earth would anyone need to do that?  And, what nice cover art, too.

I'm sure, had a literate maidservant had a literate child in tow, the little cherub might have read the headline with puzzlement: "Doxie? Wha's a doxie, Sally? Isn' tha' wha' papa calls you when 'e's 'ad too much wine?"

The world of fine art is prime for some lampooning, and so is the world of "fine literature" and poetry.  Hence, get thee to the next link, Literary Makeovers. where thou shalt find such gems as Andrew Marvell

(among others) cleverly re-made into such modern guises as to be almost unrecognizable.  The commentary is also funny, and there are a few earlier posts to check out that might make you giggle somewhat uncontrollably, depending on your mood (this portrait at left, and modern rendering of Marvell at right, courtesy of Sarah Redmond).

If you're into more modern offerings of fashion, you might consider Poorly Dressed People of the World.  Here, one can inspect the hair stylings of this gentleman: 

I'm not sure what on earth would provoke a grown man to do this to his hair, but I only hope it was for a good cause.  It would take a very understanding employer (not of the circus variety) to not wonder about this style every day at the workplace.  My pre-teen has pronounced this hair "awesome," incidentally.  I admit it makes me think of rainbow sherbet.

You can also treat your eyes to the debacle at the right, which I sincerely hope is someone's idea of a joke.  The caption by the person who submitted this fashionable feather-paux reads,"Well, if you’ve ever wanted to know what it would look like if Liberace’s walk-in closet made love to the curtains from my parents apartment in the seventies, here you go. You’re welcome?"           

Whatever tickles your fancy or your funny bone, you're sure to find something to feed it on the Internet.  If you're ready for something new to make you laugh, you might check the sites mentioned here.  Enjoy.

You can thank me later.

Blast from the Past: Kindergarten Halloween

I have A lot of Loves to thank for the idea for this post.  The rules are, first, open the oldest picture file in your computer. Scroll to the tenth photo.  Post the photo and the story behind it.

So, here goes.

At the left, you can see a faded newspaper photo of a young Halloween witch.  That's me, age 5, from kindergarten.  The date is 1974.

At our elementary school, weather permitting, every year on Halloween party day we had a parade.  Our school sat on an entire (smallish) city block, tucked into a neighborhood, about two blocks off of a busy street.  In those days, we walked to school - the neighborhood school was more than just a concept, it was a reality.  Our neighborhood school housed grades kindergarten through five, and came complete with a paved playground (for the younger kids) that had a tall slide, a handful of those "bouncy" seat toys with the huge industrial springs beneath them, and a set of monkey bars.  Jump ropes and kick balls rounded out recess play time.  The playground for the older kids sloped down toward the other end of the school, nice and grassy with dandelions in the summer, and nothing but hard-packed dirt by the time the first month of school had passed.  The older kids didn't have playground equipment - they played kickball, or gathered in clusters to talk and walk about during lunch and before school.

Lunch?  We walked home for lunch.  Very few kids packed a lunch and ate at school.  I don't remember how much time we had for lunch, but it was enough for me, at age 5, to walk home with my older sisters to eat a sandwich (made by mom) and change into a Halloween costume and then walk back to school.

In those days, we changed into our costumes after lunch, at home, and walked back to school, resplendently dressed as hobos, witches, gypsies, pirates, or robots (tin-foil wrapped boxes with armholes).  Halloween costumes at that time were composed of whatever you could find at home to put together.

Mom had a box of miscellaneous stuff that we used from year to year.  Masks, old pieces of furniture coverings (remember slipcovers?) some of which  made really great "gypsy shawls," and hats like the one I'm wearing in this photo. 

Something in the processing of the photo has caused me to look like I have a huge swath of sun screen on my nose.  But that day, the day of our kindergarten Halloween parade, was slightly overcast.  We walked, single-file, and sometimes in pairs, following our teachers like little ducklings, around the block of our school.  Neighborhood people came out to watch us, standing on the sidewalks opposite our school, or sitting on their front porch steps.  Parents came and lined the sidewalks, cameras in hand, to snap a picture (perhaps, a polaroid? ) of their little goblins.

That day, I remember walking past a very tall couple (hey, every adult is tall when you're only 5).  They were a well-dressed woman with red hair, and a tall smiling man with a beard and mustache, holding a very large camera.  They were talking to my teacher, who called me back, and asked if I'd like to have my picture taken for the newspaper.  The couple were from our local newspaper, and were looking for a picture of a witch to take for the paper that would be published on or near Halloween.  Of course I said "yes," and promptly forgot to tell my parents when I got home from school.

I don't remember what my parents said when they saw my face looking at them from the inside pages of the newspaper, but my mom collected many copies of it to send to family.

Anyway, this was 1974 and so with my teacher's permission, I gave the nice lady my name and address, my age and grade, and told her who my parents were.  The nice smiling man with the camera took my picture, and the rest is history.

Little did I know that many years later, during a summer job in college, I'd meet these people again - at my workplace.  But that's for another day.

My witch hat was shiny plastic, and not very tall.  It was held onto my head with a piece of black elastic, put under the chin.  I'm wearing a white blouse with a lace collar.  I probably wore a black skirt that day, and my tennis shoes.  Did I have a black witch's cape? I don't recall.  More probable is that I'm wearing a navy blue sweater that buttoned up the front.  It was October, and though it was early afternoon, it was still chilly enough to need something besides just shirtsleeves.  The trees would have been in full, glorious color, a combination of brilliant maple tree oranges, burnished brown oak leaves, and loads of reddish brown chestnuts on the ground, perfect for shuffling sneakered feet through, leaving slim trails with mounds of leaves and chestnuts and acorns on either side.

Don't ask me why a witch would have fangs.  I have no idea - except that I must have seen them at the store, in the Halloween display, and thought it would be a nice addition to my witchly get-up.  I was five, and I guess mom indulged me on that one. 

After our Halloween parade would come the party.  For kindergarten, we likely spent the afternoon passing out cupcakes which would have frosting licked off and then be left forgotten on small, round tables, only to be thrown away later; peanut butter kisses (those hard, toffee-like things in the orange and black wrappers), tootsie-pop suckers, popcorn balls, and an apple or two.  In the days before juice boxes or bags, we'd have Dixie cups of punch.  There were probably a few games or two, carefully supervised by our classroom teacher and aide, and the parents who came to help with the party.  Coloring was a highlight of the day, along with some construction-paper craft of a cat with an accordion-pleat tail or a grinning jack-o-lantern or some such thing.

At 3:00, we'd all head home, a motley procession of multi-sized kids clutching our school papers, jackets or sweaters, pieces of Halloween costume, and Halloween treats.  We'd head home and beg mom to let us leave the costume on until trick-or-treats were done - or take off the costume almost with reverence, setting it aside for the next day if Halloween fell on a weekend, looking forward to roaming our neighborhood with our friends.  We always knew that one neighbor would give pennies, another would have apples that were usually bruised so those would end up in the fridge, uneaten; others would have Clark candy bars, another would have religious tracts but usually those had a sucker or popcorn ball with them, so it was all right.  Anything chocolate was prime. Hard pieces of individually wrapped gum were the last thing to disappear from the stash.  Though our parents said don't eat anything until you get home, we always snuck a piece of chocolate on the walk home.

So - what's in your photo files?