One of my favorite things about October is the surprises. I never know quite what to expect, but something wonderful always happens. Maybe it is something unexpected in the mail. Sometimes it is an impromptu adventure. The point is, October is full of wonderful things and this year is no exception.
I had it all planned out yesterday. I was going to write another installment of the corn maze story and that was going to be that. But then an October surprise came along and wonderfully changed my plans. So, the October Thought for today is all about my parents which may be another October Thought first.
My parents really get me. While that might seem like an odd statement to make, not all parents and children are close. Not all see eye to eye and not all have the relationship that I have with mine. I have never once felt crazy for liking an entire month the way I do. I don't feel belittled being an adult and still going nuts over Halloween. Not only do my parents support this crazy mania, they actively participate and encourage it.
When I went to visit my dad a few weeks ago he gamely went to craft and candle stores with me picking out October décor. He carried bags, made deals and found some swag that I had missed. He was even going to go to a Halloween town with me and fully participate. He never once rolled his eyes at me when I bought yet another decoration or thing with a pumpkin on it. He even bought a few himself. But I digress.
Before leaving, dad had me load a box in my car to take home. He said that it was something to open later as he had packed it pretty tight and didn't want to undo it. That sounded sensible and I agreed. Once I got home and unloaded, the box went right out of my mind until this week. On Monday when we talked he reminded me about the box and said that I could open it. I was sleepy so I went to bed instead and promptly forgot about it, again. On Tuesday when we talked he asked if I had opened the box yet and I told him no, but that I would do it when we hung up. Once again I forgot and it wasn't until will talked on Wednesday night when he asked if I had opened it that I remembered. I couldn't believe that I had forgotten again and I said I would open it right then and there while he was on the phone so this wouldn't keep happening.
So I opened the box and the contents almost made me drop the phone. Inside was a beautiful, six piece Halloween train set from my favorite company. You see, there is a pharmacy near where my dad lives and they have a Halloween village set up under a dark canopy with twinkle lights. I drag him there to look at the model every time I visit, and on one of my last trips he went back after I left and bought the train set for me because he knew how much I liked it.
I was speechless. Ok, that's not true. I made lots of excited noises, hopped around, gave him a play by play as I opened each piece and thanked him profusely. It really is a marvelous train set and while I could go into nauseating detail about it, I will spare you and say that if you really want to know what it looks like, Google Department 56 Halloween train. Thus far I have spent two hours just looking at it, setting it up, playing with the lights and taking pictures which don't do it justice. I can't get enough.
But not to be outdone, my mother also had a surprise for me. She had found a Halloween sign in a craft store and presented me with it the day prior. It is a 9x6 sign that is mostly white with orange triangles and black chevrons around the perimeter. In spooky black script it reads "Queen of Halloween. Do it my way or I'll push you off my broom." I loved it instantly. I have a fancy scrollwork crow that I put on top of it and a boney pumpkin I sat next to it. It is the perfect adornment for my desk and it makes me chuckle.
You see, my parents get me. What a wonderful October gift.
Thursday, October 8, 2015
Tuesday, October 6, 2015
October Thoughts Day 7: The Story Continues
Leah strolled along the main walkway of the park glancing in to the booths as she passed. She saw a few other staffers as she went by, but like Valerie they didn't seem much concerned with working. However, there did seem to be someone hard at work in the concession stand across from the porta potties. A pit stop would probably be a good idea before tackling the maze she reasoned, so she availed herself of the facilities then ambled over to the food booth. The attendants name was Carrie and she seemed pleasant enough. Leah perused the goodies in the booth and asked if she could take food into the maze. Sure, Carrie said. So Leah purchased a bottle of water and a licorice rope. She thanked Carrie, put the water in the pouch of her hoodie and wove the licorice through her belt loops. Once everything was situated to her liking she continued on down the main path in the direction of the maze.
She could see the sign for the maze at a distance and once she walk out from underneath the awning of the ball pit there it was, towering above a caramel corn cart. It was painted in fluorescent colors that hurt the eyes if you stared too long and the giant bubble letters were made up of mini mazes. Someone had too much time on their hands Leah thought. Despite the korny maze sign that said Corn Maize, Leah was starting to get excited again. She was finally here. She was going to conquer the maze and if the attendance level so far was any indication, she would have the whole thing to herself for a while which suited her just fine. She passed under the sign and entered a large empty area made entirely of corncobs. It was seriously cool. There were corncob benches, corncob arches, pictures made out of corncobs and corncob trash cans. Even the ground was made up of corncobs laid into a pattern. A large corncob arrow pointed to a path to the right which Leah followed. It wasn't a long walk and eventually the corncob floor gave way to dirt and rows of cornstalks with eight openings just like the stamp on her hand showed. Leah looked around to see if she could find a park employee to show her where to go next. For such a large operation things should have been run better and when no one appeared she once again pulled out the park brochure to see if it could give her any clue about the maze. As she fiddled with the paper she spied a small wooden sign off to the left that said ENTRANCE. The map had indicated that there were 8 openings, and Leah had guessed that you could pick whichever one you wanted to start with, but maybe you had to begin at a specific one and it lead you to the others. She really had no idea. One opening was as good as the next it looked like. Besides, part of the fun of a maze was to get lost. So, she refolded the brochure, stuffed it in her pocket and entered the pathway to the left.
Leah loved the beginnings of mazes. Those first few feet into the unknown. You knew for sure what the path behind you held, but you had no idea what was in store for you around the first bend. The corn was taller than her by a good 3 feet or more and the stalks bent inward a bit on the edges of the path giving the maze a tunnel like feel. As she walked the first long straightaway Leah held out her arms on either side and ran her fingers lightly against the stalks. She felt the hard, papery texture against the pads of her fingers and listened to the crack and rustle of the corn stalks as they collided with each other. A few feet further and she came to the first choice, left or right? Tradition said right, adventure beckoned to the left. But she had all day and wanted to get a feel for the maze first before she randomly started choosing contrary directions. Right it was. She followed the curving path around a few swirls and into even more T junctions. A false start at one sent her backtracking a few paces but nothing major. She heard noises in the corn from small animals scurrying and watched a few startled birds take flight when she rounded the corner. Ten minutes later and a lot more right turns, Leah found herself back at the brightly painted entrance. There still wasn't an attendant and she was about to pull out the map again, when she noticed a sign in front of one of the maze openings that said LEFT. She looked back to where she had entered the first maze and saw that its sign was no longer there. Puzzled, she looked around. There were no other signs but for the one that said left. Maybe this was all a part of the Magnificent Corn Maze Extravaganza. Maybe you weren't supposed to see the staff. That certainly made things a bit more spooky. Leah looked at the sign. She looked at the other openings. The corn waved in the slight breeze but otherwise gave no indication what lay beyond each path. Feeling a little apprehensive but mostly curious Leah announced to the empty air, "Ok, left it is then." Before she started onto the new path, she took out her phone and snapped a picture of the left sign and the other openings. Once that was done, she stowed her phone and plunged in.
Much like the first maze, the path followed a straight row before angling slightly to the side and then coming to a T junction. Again she was faced with the choice of left or right? The sign in front of the maze did say left, but Leah was feeling feisty and took the bend to the right instead. She followed it around a curve and came to another split. She took a left this time and was brought right back to the first left or right entry. She chose right again and this time when the split came she chose right again. But her right choice only led her to a dead end a ways down the row and she had to once again back track to the original left or right choice. Standing in front of the first T junction she moved on to the left and was rewarded with a long corridor. At the next T junction she chose left again and moved deeper into the maze. She chose a few rights after that just to see if the maze sign meant always turn left or only on the first choice turn left. It seemed that it meant always turn left and pretty soon Leah was jogging her way past junctions without even considering going right. She turned left so many times in fact that she was starting to get dizzy, and just when she was considering stopping or at least slowing down, out she popped into the original eight opening entrance. She turned around and stumbled straight into an older gentleman in overalls with a baseball cap sticking out of the back pocket. "Whoa there miss, steady on," he said. Leah blinked at him, caught her breath and began to apologize. "No, no young lady. No harm done," the man said. He chuckled and released her shoulders and took a step back. "Was something chasing you in there? You came out like a house a fire." "No sir," Leah said. I was just in this weird left only maze and I was going faster and faster and then it ended and I wasn't expecting it," she trailed off. "Oh I know that maze well" the man said. "It is one of my favorites. People hardly ever go left in a maze, they always go right. This makes for a refreshing change I think. How did you like it?" Leah thought about it then answered. "At first I didn't really believe the sign. I just thought it meant left as the first choice. But then I tried it out and if I went right I would just go around in circles that didn't go anywhere, or I would pop right back to where I started. Once I began going left it felt like I was actually going somewhere and I couldn't wait to see where." The man looked at her and smiled. "That is a good way to put it" he finally said." Leah shrugged and asked, "how many times have you done the left maze?" "Only once," the man replied. "It isn't the same if you do it again." Which was true Leah supposed. You could only have one first experience, anything after that would just be building on the initial outing.
"So, she asked, are you here to go through a different opening today or are you doing some of the other things in the park?" "A little of both actually," the man replied. "You see, I designed this maze, but I like to come over once it opens for the day and see how people enjoy it." Leah stared. "You mean you made this thing? How cool is that? I mean, how do you get your ideas? How do you cut the corn? How do you...." But by then the old man was chuckling and Leah stopped to ask what was so funny. "Young lady, you sure do have a lot of questions" he said with a smile. "I don't really know how I get my ideas," he explained. "I just go about my day and then a thought pops into my head, like wouldn't it be fun to always go left instead of right. Then I just sit down and doodle and out pops a maze eventually. I always did like to draw. Once I figure out the pattern I take it to the growers and they do the rest. It is always something to see what I put down on paper turn into a living breathing thing. I think it has a mind of its own sometimes. Perhaps it designed itself." Leah didn't know what to say to that and they both stood in a bit of an awkward silence until the man once again spoke. "But where are my manners," he said. Here I have been talking and never once introduced myself. The name's Jerome, and who might you be?" "I'm Leah," she said. "Well Miss Leah, it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance. I always enjoy meeting other people who appreciate a good maze like I do." Leah smiled and replied, "yeah, mazes are fun. It's like taking a mini adventure but right in the middle of everyone. It's like a secret that only you know. As to your maze, I really like the part where you have the changing signs. That's my favorite so far." "Changing signs," he said with a question in his voice. "Yeah, when I came out of the first maze there was a sign that said left. It wasn't there when I first started. And when I began, there was an entrance sign, but it disappeared." Jerome looked thoughtful, "and where might this left sign be" he asked. Leah turned to the side to show him the sign but it wasn't there. She looked the other direction but the only sign she saw was a different wooden sign that said THIS WAY. "Huh" it was right there she told Jerome, pointing to the now empty location. "I took a picture of it with my phone. That sign over there wasn't here and the left one was." She flipped to her albums menu on her phone and showed him the clearly marked sign. He looked at the phone and then back to her. "My dear, I think you may need to take another look at this picture." Confused, Leah turned the screen around and looked, there, clearly marked was a sign that read THIS WAY.
She could see the sign for the maze at a distance and once she walk out from underneath the awning of the ball pit there it was, towering above a caramel corn cart. It was painted in fluorescent colors that hurt the eyes if you stared too long and the giant bubble letters were made up of mini mazes. Someone had too much time on their hands Leah thought. Despite the korny maze sign that said Corn Maize, Leah was starting to get excited again. She was finally here. She was going to conquer the maze and if the attendance level so far was any indication, she would have the whole thing to herself for a while which suited her just fine. She passed under the sign and entered a large empty area made entirely of corncobs. It was seriously cool. There were corncob benches, corncob arches, pictures made out of corncobs and corncob trash cans. Even the ground was made up of corncobs laid into a pattern. A large corncob arrow pointed to a path to the right which Leah followed. It wasn't a long walk and eventually the corncob floor gave way to dirt and rows of cornstalks with eight openings just like the stamp on her hand showed. Leah looked around to see if she could find a park employee to show her where to go next. For such a large operation things should have been run better and when no one appeared she once again pulled out the park brochure to see if it could give her any clue about the maze. As she fiddled with the paper she spied a small wooden sign off to the left that said ENTRANCE. The map had indicated that there were 8 openings, and Leah had guessed that you could pick whichever one you wanted to start with, but maybe you had to begin at a specific one and it lead you to the others. She really had no idea. One opening was as good as the next it looked like. Besides, part of the fun of a maze was to get lost. So, she refolded the brochure, stuffed it in her pocket and entered the pathway to the left.
Leah loved the beginnings of mazes. Those first few feet into the unknown. You knew for sure what the path behind you held, but you had no idea what was in store for you around the first bend. The corn was taller than her by a good 3 feet or more and the stalks bent inward a bit on the edges of the path giving the maze a tunnel like feel. As she walked the first long straightaway Leah held out her arms on either side and ran her fingers lightly against the stalks. She felt the hard, papery texture against the pads of her fingers and listened to the crack and rustle of the corn stalks as they collided with each other. A few feet further and she came to the first choice, left or right? Tradition said right, adventure beckoned to the left. But she had all day and wanted to get a feel for the maze first before she randomly started choosing contrary directions. Right it was. She followed the curving path around a few swirls and into even more T junctions. A false start at one sent her backtracking a few paces but nothing major. She heard noises in the corn from small animals scurrying and watched a few startled birds take flight when she rounded the corner. Ten minutes later and a lot more right turns, Leah found herself back at the brightly painted entrance. There still wasn't an attendant and she was about to pull out the map again, when she noticed a sign in front of one of the maze openings that said LEFT. She looked back to where she had entered the first maze and saw that its sign was no longer there. Puzzled, she looked around. There were no other signs but for the one that said left. Maybe this was all a part of the Magnificent Corn Maze Extravaganza. Maybe you weren't supposed to see the staff. That certainly made things a bit more spooky. Leah looked at the sign. She looked at the other openings. The corn waved in the slight breeze but otherwise gave no indication what lay beyond each path. Feeling a little apprehensive but mostly curious Leah announced to the empty air, "Ok, left it is then." Before she started onto the new path, she took out her phone and snapped a picture of the left sign and the other openings. Once that was done, she stowed her phone and plunged in.
Much like the first maze, the path followed a straight row before angling slightly to the side and then coming to a T junction. Again she was faced with the choice of left or right? The sign in front of the maze did say left, but Leah was feeling feisty and took the bend to the right instead. She followed it around a curve and came to another split. She took a left this time and was brought right back to the first left or right entry. She chose right again and this time when the split came she chose right again. But her right choice only led her to a dead end a ways down the row and she had to once again back track to the original left or right choice. Standing in front of the first T junction she moved on to the left and was rewarded with a long corridor. At the next T junction she chose left again and moved deeper into the maze. She chose a few rights after that just to see if the maze sign meant always turn left or only on the first choice turn left. It seemed that it meant always turn left and pretty soon Leah was jogging her way past junctions without even considering going right. She turned left so many times in fact that she was starting to get dizzy, and just when she was considering stopping or at least slowing down, out she popped into the original eight opening entrance. She turned around and stumbled straight into an older gentleman in overalls with a baseball cap sticking out of the back pocket. "Whoa there miss, steady on," he said. Leah blinked at him, caught her breath and began to apologize. "No, no young lady. No harm done," the man said. He chuckled and released her shoulders and took a step back. "Was something chasing you in there? You came out like a house a fire." "No sir," Leah said. I was just in this weird left only maze and I was going faster and faster and then it ended and I wasn't expecting it," she trailed off. "Oh I know that maze well" the man said. "It is one of my favorites. People hardly ever go left in a maze, they always go right. This makes for a refreshing change I think. How did you like it?" Leah thought about it then answered. "At first I didn't really believe the sign. I just thought it meant left as the first choice. But then I tried it out and if I went right I would just go around in circles that didn't go anywhere, or I would pop right back to where I started. Once I began going left it felt like I was actually going somewhere and I couldn't wait to see where." The man looked at her and smiled. "That is a good way to put it" he finally said." Leah shrugged and asked, "how many times have you done the left maze?" "Only once," the man replied. "It isn't the same if you do it again." Which was true Leah supposed. You could only have one first experience, anything after that would just be building on the initial outing.
"So, she asked, are you here to go through a different opening today or are you doing some of the other things in the park?" "A little of both actually," the man replied. "You see, I designed this maze, but I like to come over once it opens for the day and see how people enjoy it." Leah stared. "You mean you made this thing? How cool is that? I mean, how do you get your ideas? How do you cut the corn? How do you...." But by then the old man was chuckling and Leah stopped to ask what was so funny. "Young lady, you sure do have a lot of questions" he said with a smile. "I don't really know how I get my ideas," he explained. "I just go about my day and then a thought pops into my head, like wouldn't it be fun to always go left instead of right. Then I just sit down and doodle and out pops a maze eventually. I always did like to draw. Once I figure out the pattern I take it to the growers and they do the rest. It is always something to see what I put down on paper turn into a living breathing thing. I think it has a mind of its own sometimes. Perhaps it designed itself." Leah didn't know what to say to that and they both stood in a bit of an awkward silence until the man once again spoke. "But where are my manners," he said. Here I have been talking and never once introduced myself. The name's Jerome, and who might you be?" "I'm Leah," she said. "Well Miss Leah, it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance. I always enjoy meeting other people who appreciate a good maze like I do." Leah smiled and replied, "yeah, mazes are fun. It's like taking a mini adventure but right in the middle of everyone. It's like a secret that only you know. As to your maze, I really like the part where you have the changing signs. That's my favorite so far." "Changing signs," he said with a question in his voice. "Yeah, when I came out of the first maze there was a sign that said left. It wasn't there when I first started. And when I began, there was an entrance sign, but it disappeared." Jerome looked thoughtful, "and where might this left sign be" he asked. Leah turned to the side to show him the sign but it wasn't there. She looked the other direction but the only sign she saw was a different wooden sign that said THIS WAY. "Huh" it was right there she told Jerome, pointing to the now empty location. "I took a picture of it with my phone. That sign over there wasn't here and the left one was." She flipped to her albums menu on her phone and showed him the clearly marked sign. He looked at the phone and then back to her. "My dear, I think you may need to take another look at this picture." Confused, Leah turned the screen around and looked, there, clearly marked was a sign that read THIS WAY.
October Thought Day 6: Something Different
Every year I mull the idea over of writing a story in my October Thoughts. I have amassed quite a few ideas and came close last year to writing one of them. But alas and alack it never happened. This year, I feel inspired and have started on one. It will be a short story told in serial form. I can't wait to see how it ends. So, here is my inaugural October Thought story. Installment #1. I hope you enjoy.
Leah was excited. It was finally the weekend. It had been a hard week and now it was over. It was time to kick back and do what she wanted to do, and what she wanted to do was go to a corn maze. For four weeks there had been a barrage of advertisements for the local maze. There were banners down main street, ads on TV, notices in the paper, flyers in the grocery store, billboards down the highway and blurbs on the radio. Everywhere she went she heard about the maze. At first she was excited along with everyone else. Who wouldn't be? There were things do to for all ages and not just the maze. There would be live music, food trucks, petting zoos, bounce houses, rides, and much, much more the ads promised. But after the 6th or 7th commercial or the umpteenth flyer, her excitement started to dwindle. By week three she had had enough and was prepared to boycott the maze altogether, but then came week four. Something changed. Whoever was running the advertisements added one sentence to the end of the promotions and it caught her attention. It said, "An experience unlike any other." Now she had heard those words before in other ads and thought nothing of it, but this time, this time something was different. It was the tone of the thing. It didn't feel tongue in cheek. It sounded like a promise. What exactly was so special about this maze? Did it have bridges or fountains in the middle? Maybe their were live animals in it or weird guides. Perhaps the maze was just one giant wall of corn? Leah honestly didn't know and that sentence wouldn't stop buzzing in her brain. She brought it up to her parents but they didn't see any special significance. Her mother just shrugged and said that it was a cheap marketing ploy and probably didn't mean anything extra special. Her father concurred but added that the maze designers had most likely added a few more extra twists and turns to make it super hard. Leah thought it was more than this but didn't argue. She tried talking to her best friend Georgie about it, but Georgie was more interested in what Mike Twilbie was wearing that day than the mysteries of the local corn maze.
So Leah stewed over the maze mystery all through her difficult week, which both helped and hindered. She was excited to think of the possibilities, but with tests and homework, practices and the other demands of life pushing in, she wanted the mystery of the maze to be solved so she could get on with things. Which was why this Saturday was so exciting. Today was the day that she would figure out the mystery of the maze. Leah woke up early, something unheard of in her house on a weekend, and rushed through breakfast. The maze opened up at ten on the weekends and she wanted to be first in line. She took out the garbage, fed Samson the families aging basset hound, checked Twitter and Facebook, took way to long deciding on an appropriate maze adventuring outfit, checked Twitter again, wrote a note to her parents reminding them of where she was going and when she'd be back and then dashed out the door.
It was only a 15 minute drive to the maze from her house and she though she wanted to speed down the sleepy country roads she kept her mounting excitement in check and kept it under the speed limit. In what felt like no time at all, Leah saw the first of the turn off signs leading to the maze. Simple hand drawn sandwich boards with pumpkin balloons floating on top. The speedometer edged up a little as she saw the next sign and by the time she came to the turn off a few miles later all pretenses of being a model driver were gone. As she turned off down the dirt road she kicked up a mighty cloud of dust which she was a bit embarrassed by once she reached the parking lot. Two workers chatting by the entrance to the attraction were enveloped by her dust cloud as she came to a stop. Leah sheepishly turned off the engine and sat for a few minutes before getting out of the truck. She stuffed her wallet in the back pocket of her jeans and put her keys in her front pocket next to her phone. She was ready to go.
Leah walked past the two attendants that she had dusted but they paid her no mind. If her eyes weren't deceiving her, she was the first one at the site. Excitement surged through her. Leah loved mazes and puzzles. To be the first one. To be the only one. To have the entire place to herself, Leah couldn't wait to get started. She walked a little faster to the ticket booth. When she got there she was greeted by an indifferent girl with pink hair who had her feet propped up on the counter and was busily texting. Leah stood for a few moments and waited. She read the price guide posted on the side of the ticket window and dug in her pocket for her wallet. The ticket girl continued to ignore her and after a while Leah made a few noises indicating that she was ready to be helped. Still nothing. Not wanting to be rude, but getting a little irritated, Leah cleared her throat and asked "so, tickets to the maze are $5 right?" The girl looked up, a little confused at being spoken too. "What," she asked. "I asked if the maze price was $5" Leah said, knowing full well that it was, since it was posted about a foot from her face. The pink haired girl, whose nametag read Valerie, blinked in confusion then shrugged and said "I guess." Leah handed her a five with forced cheerfulness. The girl took it and then went back to texting. Leah sighed and asked "don't I get a ticket or something." Valerie looked up and seemed confused that Leah was still standing there. "You get a stamp on the hand" she said. Leah waited. Valerie waited. "Could I maybe have the stamp now," Leah asked, getting a little bit more annoyed. Valerie sighed and shrugged at the same time then turned to dig under the counter. She rooted around and came back up with a carved wooden stamp that looked as if it belonged on a chess board. Leah held out her hand as Valerie inked the piece and then pushed it onto Leah's skin. Leah examined the design. It was a black swirl that looked like a maze with eight dots at various points along the lines. Cool. Leah looked up and asked "is this what the maze looks like or is it just a pattern? How many entries are there to the maze? How long does it usually take people to go through?" But Valerie was not interested in customer service and without breaking her texting rhythm, used her other hand to wave vaguely at the information stand two windows down from the booth. Clearly Leah was not going to be getting any more "help" from Valerie so she muttered a halfhearted thanks and went to look at the brochures. Washburn's Magnificent Corn Maze Extravaganza said a header on all the flyers. Leah picked one up and started unfolding. Inside there was a list of concessions, attractions and hours. Another panel showed an overhead view of the maze and gave gate options. There were in fact eight in all and they ranged in difficulty levels. The maze itself covered 33 acres which was impressive, but hardly what Leah would consider an experience unlike any other like the ads promised. The brochure said nothing else about the inner workings of the maze. Leah checked. When you unfolded the brochure totally it provided a map of the entire park and its attractions. She located the maze site, refolded the brochure and set off. Nothing was going to mar her maze day, not even Valerie.
To be continued......
Leah was excited. It was finally the weekend. It had been a hard week and now it was over. It was time to kick back and do what she wanted to do, and what she wanted to do was go to a corn maze. For four weeks there had been a barrage of advertisements for the local maze. There were banners down main street, ads on TV, notices in the paper, flyers in the grocery store, billboards down the highway and blurbs on the radio. Everywhere she went she heard about the maze. At first she was excited along with everyone else. Who wouldn't be? There were things do to for all ages and not just the maze. There would be live music, food trucks, petting zoos, bounce houses, rides, and much, much more the ads promised. But after the 6th or 7th commercial or the umpteenth flyer, her excitement started to dwindle. By week three she had had enough and was prepared to boycott the maze altogether, but then came week four. Something changed. Whoever was running the advertisements added one sentence to the end of the promotions and it caught her attention. It said, "An experience unlike any other." Now she had heard those words before in other ads and thought nothing of it, but this time, this time something was different. It was the tone of the thing. It didn't feel tongue in cheek. It sounded like a promise. What exactly was so special about this maze? Did it have bridges or fountains in the middle? Maybe their were live animals in it or weird guides. Perhaps the maze was just one giant wall of corn? Leah honestly didn't know and that sentence wouldn't stop buzzing in her brain. She brought it up to her parents but they didn't see any special significance. Her mother just shrugged and said that it was a cheap marketing ploy and probably didn't mean anything extra special. Her father concurred but added that the maze designers had most likely added a few more extra twists and turns to make it super hard. Leah thought it was more than this but didn't argue. She tried talking to her best friend Georgie about it, but Georgie was more interested in what Mike Twilbie was wearing that day than the mysteries of the local corn maze.
So Leah stewed over the maze mystery all through her difficult week, which both helped and hindered. She was excited to think of the possibilities, but with tests and homework, practices and the other demands of life pushing in, she wanted the mystery of the maze to be solved so she could get on with things. Which was why this Saturday was so exciting. Today was the day that she would figure out the mystery of the maze. Leah woke up early, something unheard of in her house on a weekend, and rushed through breakfast. The maze opened up at ten on the weekends and she wanted to be first in line. She took out the garbage, fed Samson the families aging basset hound, checked Twitter and Facebook, took way to long deciding on an appropriate maze adventuring outfit, checked Twitter again, wrote a note to her parents reminding them of where she was going and when she'd be back and then dashed out the door.
It was only a 15 minute drive to the maze from her house and she though she wanted to speed down the sleepy country roads she kept her mounting excitement in check and kept it under the speed limit. In what felt like no time at all, Leah saw the first of the turn off signs leading to the maze. Simple hand drawn sandwich boards with pumpkin balloons floating on top. The speedometer edged up a little as she saw the next sign and by the time she came to the turn off a few miles later all pretenses of being a model driver were gone. As she turned off down the dirt road she kicked up a mighty cloud of dust which she was a bit embarrassed by once she reached the parking lot. Two workers chatting by the entrance to the attraction were enveloped by her dust cloud as she came to a stop. Leah sheepishly turned off the engine and sat for a few minutes before getting out of the truck. She stuffed her wallet in the back pocket of her jeans and put her keys in her front pocket next to her phone. She was ready to go.
Leah walked past the two attendants that she had dusted but they paid her no mind. If her eyes weren't deceiving her, she was the first one at the site. Excitement surged through her. Leah loved mazes and puzzles. To be the first one. To be the only one. To have the entire place to herself, Leah couldn't wait to get started. She walked a little faster to the ticket booth. When she got there she was greeted by an indifferent girl with pink hair who had her feet propped up on the counter and was busily texting. Leah stood for a few moments and waited. She read the price guide posted on the side of the ticket window and dug in her pocket for her wallet. The ticket girl continued to ignore her and after a while Leah made a few noises indicating that she was ready to be helped. Still nothing. Not wanting to be rude, but getting a little irritated, Leah cleared her throat and asked "so, tickets to the maze are $5 right?" The girl looked up, a little confused at being spoken too. "What," she asked. "I asked if the maze price was $5" Leah said, knowing full well that it was, since it was posted about a foot from her face. The pink haired girl, whose nametag read Valerie, blinked in confusion then shrugged and said "I guess." Leah handed her a five with forced cheerfulness. The girl took it and then went back to texting. Leah sighed and asked "don't I get a ticket or something." Valerie looked up and seemed confused that Leah was still standing there. "You get a stamp on the hand" she said. Leah waited. Valerie waited. "Could I maybe have the stamp now," Leah asked, getting a little bit more annoyed. Valerie sighed and shrugged at the same time then turned to dig under the counter. She rooted around and came back up with a carved wooden stamp that looked as if it belonged on a chess board. Leah held out her hand as Valerie inked the piece and then pushed it onto Leah's skin. Leah examined the design. It was a black swirl that looked like a maze with eight dots at various points along the lines. Cool. Leah looked up and asked "is this what the maze looks like or is it just a pattern? How many entries are there to the maze? How long does it usually take people to go through?" But Valerie was not interested in customer service and without breaking her texting rhythm, used her other hand to wave vaguely at the information stand two windows down from the booth. Clearly Leah was not going to be getting any more "help" from Valerie so she muttered a halfhearted thanks and went to look at the brochures. Washburn's Magnificent Corn Maze Extravaganza said a header on all the flyers. Leah picked one up and started unfolding. Inside there was a list of concessions, attractions and hours. Another panel showed an overhead view of the maze and gave gate options. There were in fact eight in all and they ranged in difficulty levels. The maze itself covered 33 acres which was impressive, but hardly what Leah would consider an experience unlike any other like the ads promised. The brochure said nothing else about the inner workings of the maze. Leah checked. When you unfolded the brochure totally it provided a map of the entire park and its attractions. She located the maze site, refolded the brochure and set off. Nothing was going to mar her maze day, not even Valerie.
To be continued......
Monday, October 5, 2015
October Thought Day 5: This Month Was Made For Socks
Yesterday was the first day that I had worn socks in quite a while. It wasn't that I felt cold enough to need them, so much as where I had planned to go required socks. As it turned out, my plans changed and my sock wearing was for naught. But it, along with a timely posting did get me thinking.
Normally in October we begin to get cooler weather. The blistering heat of the summer gives way to a comfy warmth that slowly morphs into frosty mornings. Those chilly a.m. hours equal scrapping windshields, warming your hands on hot beverages and sock wearing. Since it is October, this means holiday socks, and I love holiday socks.
In general I feel that socks are boring and restrictive. Your choices are either white or black if you want to stay fashion forward, or just dress sensibly. Before I knew the joy of holiday socks, I tried to break with this black or white trend by introducing argyle into my wardrobe. But really, you can only take argyle so far. As soon as I was old enough to veto the frilly sock purchases and the monochromatic wonders, I started requesting crazy socks. It was my way of expressing my individuality. At my school we didn't have uniforms, it was worse. Girls had to wear dresses. If I couldn't wear my beloved pants, than at least I could wear crazy socks in protest.
October was what started it all. It is the first month after the long drought of summer when holiday socks start to emerge. Ok it isn't, there are fourth of July socks, but they are pretty boring and the selection isn't so great. It is always a variation of red, white and blue and fireworks. Which is nice, but limiting. Now October, October has tons of choices.
You can get crazy slipper socks, crazy knee highs, crazy footletts, or just plain crazy socks. They come in all kinds of colors and themes. There are scary socks that look like monsters are eating your feet. Sweet socks with black cats or candy. Vampire socks, monster socks, ghost socks, candy corn socks, bat socks, stripped socks, spider socks, bloody socks, socks with menacing eyes, socks with haunted houses, socks with words, etc… It’s great. And when I found the internet, I found all sorts of places to find good holiday socks.
I don't remember when I decided this, but one October I made the goal of one day purchasing enough October socks to have a different pair for each day of this wonderful month. Which given the variety doesn't seem like it would be so hard. BUT, I am quite picky about the socks I choose. They have to speak to me. Not literally. Good heavens, I am not that far gone. But they have to somehow be unique. At this point I don't acutally know how many October socks I own. I might have the magical 31 already, but what fun would that be in knowing? I want to continue my holiday sock collection. So, in this case, ignorance is bliss.
Wearing crazy holiday socks under my dignified outfits makes me feel a bit rebellious and like I am getting away with something. Plus it is just plain fun. People look at outfits, belts, scarves, pants, shoes, earrings, etc.... But unless you are one of those crazy people who wear socks with sandals, no one ever looks at your socks. Most of the time they are hidden by pants or close toed shoes. So when I have to dress up for a formal occasion, on go the crazy holiday socks. An important meeting I have to speak at...you guessed it, I most likely am rocking some weird footwear.
Wearing crazy socks gives me an inside joke to chuckle over all day long. At some point during a serious conversation, my mind will wander a bit and I will be thinking, hee hee hee, sir or madam, right now you are talking about X, and I am wearing socks with dancing candy corn on them. Hee hee hee. And then I go back to paying attention. But it really does make me chuckle every time.
I think my favorite holiday socks are ones that I bought to go along with a western costume. They are knee highs and look wild westy, especially since they both have a picture of an anklet holster with gun on both sides. My favorite thing to do when I wear those socks is to hitch up my pant leg to an innocent bystander (always a friend, I would totally weird out a stranger) display the fake sock gun holster and shout WAH BAM! I have no idea why I started doing that, but it just seems to go with the socks. You can't do that with the plain black and white ones. You can't even do it with argyle. Well, I suppose you could, but it would be very, very odd.
Yup, I love my holiday socks. They add spice to my life, a spring to my step and a giggle to my lips. I highly suggest that you go out and get a pair if you don't have some already.
Normally in October we begin to get cooler weather. The blistering heat of the summer gives way to a comfy warmth that slowly morphs into frosty mornings. Those chilly a.m. hours equal scrapping windshields, warming your hands on hot beverages and sock wearing. Since it is October, this means holiday socks, and I love holiday socks.
In general I feel that socks are boring and restrictive. Your choices are either white or black if you want to stay fashion forward, or just dress sensibly. Before I knew the joy of holiday socks, I tried to break with this black or white trend by introducing argyle into my wardrobe. But really, you can only take argyle so far. As soon as I was old enough to veto the frilly sock purchases and the monochromatic wonders, I started requesting crazy socks. It was my way of expressing my individuality. At my school we didn't have uniforms, it was worse. Girls had to wear dresses. If I couldn't wear my beloved pants, than at least I could wear crazy socks in protest.
October was what started it all. It is the first month after the long drought of summer when holiday socks start to emerge. Ok it isn't, there are fourth of July socks, but they are pretty boring and the selection isn't so great. It is always a variation of red, white and blue and fireworks. Which is nice, but limiting. Now October, October has tons of choices.
You can get crazy slipper socks, crazy knee highs, crazy footletts, or just plain crazy socks. They come in all kinds of colors and themes. There are scary socks that look like monsters are eating your feet. Sweet socks with black cats or candy. Vampire socks, monster socks, ghost socks, candy corn socks, bat socks, stripped socks, spider socks, bloody socks, socks with menacing eyes, socks with haunted houses, socks with words, etc… It’s great. And when I found the internet, I found all sorts of places to find good holiday socks.
I don't remember when I decided this, but one October I made the goal of one day purchasing enough October socks to have a different pair for each day of this wonderful month. Which given the variety doesn't seem like it would be so hard. BUT, I am quite picky about the socks I choose. They have to speak to me. Not literally. Good heavens, I am not that far gone. But they have to somehow be unique. At this point I don't acutally know how many October socks I own. I might have the magical 31 already, but what fun would that be in knowing? I want to continue my holiday sock collection. So, in this case, ignorance is bliss.
Wearing crazy holiday socks under my dignified outfits makes me feel a bit rebellious and like I am getting away with something. Plus it is just plain fun. People look at outfits, belts, scarves, pants, shoes, earrings, etc.... But unless you are one of those crazy people who wear socks with sandals, no one ever looks at your socks. Most of the time they are hidden by pants or close toed shoes. So when I have to dress up for a formal occasion, on go the crazy holiday socks. An important meeting I have to speak at...you guessed it, I most likely am rocking some weird footwear.
Wearing crazy socks gives me an inside joke to chuckle over all day long. At some point during a serious conversation, my mind will wander a bit and I will be thinking, hee hee hee, sir or madam, right now you are talking about X, and I am wearing socks with dancing candy corn on them. Hee hee hee. And then I go back to paying attention. But it really does make me chuckle every time.
I think my favorite holiday socks are ones that I bought to go along with a western costume. They are knee highs and look wild westy, especially since they both have a picture of an anklet holster with gun on both sides. My favorite thing to do when I wear those socks is to hitch up my pant leg to an innocent bystander (always a friend, I would totally weird out a stranger) display the fake sock gun holster and shout WAH BAM! I have no idea why I started doing that, but it just seems to go with the socks. You can't do that with the plain black and white ones. You can't even do it with argyle. Well, I suppose you could, but it would be very, very odd.
Yup, I love my holiday socks. They add spice to my life, a spring to my step and a giggle to my lips. I highly suggest that you go out and get a pair if you don't have some already.
Sunday, October 4, 2015
October Thought Day 4: Leaf on the Wind, Watch How I Fly
What would it be like to be a leaf? Our talk yesterday got me thinking about that particular question. If anything can top the pumpkin spiciness of October it is leaves. If pumpkins are the mascot of the month, then leaves are the state flower. There is nothing quite like the fashion show that is fall foliage. October leaves get downright flirty. Those saucy oranges, bronzed yellows and flirty reds. It never ceases to amaze and humble me that something which is dying can produce so much beauty. I think all fall trees are really phoenixes in disguise. One day they are green and gorgeous, the next they are on fire with the last embers of life. It really is magical.
Now I could get all scientific and explain how the plant process works and what is really going on chemically behind the scenes, but this is October and as the meme says, "ain't no one got time for that." Instead I will give you my theory on why the leaves look the way they do, and the answer is, they go to leaf school of course. But first, did you know that squirrels are the storks of the plant world? They find the infant leaflings, tuck them away in special knapsacks and then deposit them into special chutes in the tree trunks. From there, the leaflings are taken to nurseries tucked deep in the ground, and they are tended to by the gnomes that live in fairy gardens.
Leaves grow at a fast rate compared to humans, and a few weeks are the same as a year to them. Once the leaflings are old enough to sip dew on their own, they are promoted to leaf school which is held in the trunk of the tree. Each grade level takes them higher up until they reach the branches their senior year. In leaf school the leaflings learn how to unfurl, how to catch the best breeze, and how to detach when the time comes. They learn martial arts leaf style (called crinkle and snap) so that they can protect themselves from predators. They do leaf yoga, leaf mime and begin to talk with their host tree. And yes, there is leaf internet.
But the most important part of leaf school is color communication. A leafs whole life is dedicated to the dazzling dance it will perform in its final days. Color communication intensifies in the senior year of leaf school. The soon to be graduates train day and night doing color drills and pattern sequencing. Not every leaf masters this skill and some stay green and drop out before their song ever begins.
Color communication is the leaf's way of communicating to the outside world exactly what kind of life the leaf has lead. It's dreams and goals, it's fears and frustrations. It is the leafs commentary on literature, love and the world around it. It is to work in harmony with its fellow leaves when the time comes, but at the same time it is to present itself as an individual work of art. A symphony of color with solos interspersed.
Once color communication is mastered, it is time to graduate and move to the world outside. The leaflings are promoted to bud status and are wished well by the tree staff before taking their places at their assigned tubes. The excited buds are ready to burst forth into the spring air and begin their new adventure. but first they must wait for the lights inside the tree to go green and then out they pop.
In the outside world they unfurl like they are taught and soak up the suns rays. They sing to each other and their tune is carried on the breeze through the different levels of the tree. Some leaves act as scouts and detach from the tree early on. Others take their time opening even though they get the green light. But through the spring and summer, they all practice their melodies and color communication. They live, they shade, they observe, and they grow. They communicate with other leaves on other trees and share stories and observances from many miles away.
But soon the summer breezes take on a cold tinge and the matured leaves know that their final performance is coming. They talk amongst themselves and coordinate when they will begin to turn. While the leaves are more concerned with communicating their legacy, the trees are more interested in seeing whose color song will be the best. Trees are really vain creatures and keep track throughout the years as to who has more tourists, picture opportunities and photo spreads.
The day arrives and the leaves burst forth in blazing multicolored glory. A true feast for the senses. The leaves sing to all who care to listen and after a while they one by one start to fall silent. The next time you look at an autumn tree, really stop to look at the leaves. The last ones remaining on the limbs have the most to say. They have the greatest stamina and are carrying out the last notes of fall before the frost comes to trace its patterns on the world and make ready for winter.
The leaves fall or are picked off. But they do not die. A leaf never dies, it merely changes it's tune. Some may fall to the ground and decompose taking up the song of the earth. Others may fall into waters and liquefy, forever to become part of the song of the seas and rivers. Still others may end up pressed between pages or kept as display. Those fortunate few get to keep observing and continuing the song they started with. You see, there is more to leaves than you originally thought. All you have to do is listen.
Now I could get all scientific and explain how the plant process works and what is really going on chemically behind the scenes, but this is October and as the meme says, "ain't no one got time for that." Instead I will give you my theory on why the leaves look the way they do, and the answer is, they go to leaf school of course. But first, did you know that squirrels are the storks of the plant world? They find the infant leaflings, tuck them away in special knapsacks and then deposit them into special chutes in the tree trunks. From there, the leaflings are taken to nurseries tucked deep in the ground, and they are tended to by the gnomes that live in fairy gardens.
Leaves grow at a fast rate compared to humans, and a few weeks are the same as a year to them. Once the leaflings are old enough to sip dew on their own, they are promoted to leaf school which is held in the trunk of the tree. Each grade level takes them higher up until they reach the branches their senior year. In leaf school the leaflings learn how to unfurl, how to catch the best breeze, and how to detach when the time comes. They learn martial arts leaf style (called crinkle and snap) so that they can protect themselves from predators. They do leaf yoga, leaf mime and begin to talk with their host tree. And yes, there is leaf internet.
But the most important part of leaf school is color communication. A leafs whole life is dedicated to the dazzling dance it will perform in its final days. Color communication intensifies in the senior year of leaf school. The soon to be graduates train day and night doing color drills and pattern sequencing. Not every leaf masters this skill and some stay green and drop out before their song ever begins.
Color communication is the leaf's way of communicating to the outside world exactly what kind of life the leaf has lead. It's dreams and goals, it's fears and frustrations. It is the leafs commentary on literature, love and the world around it. It is to work in harmony with its fellow leaves when the time comes, but at the same time it is to present itself as an individual work of art. A symphony of color with solos interspersed.
Once color communication is mastered, it is time to graduate and move to the world outside. The leaflings are promoted to bud status and are wished well by the tree staff before taking their places at their assigned tubes. The excited buds are ready to burst forth into the spring air and begin their new adventure. but first they must wait for the lights inside the tree to go green and then out they pop.
In the outside world they unfurl like they are taught and soak up the suns rays. They sing to each other and their tune is carried on the breeze through the different levels of the tree. Some leaves act as scouts and detach from the tree early on. Others take their time opening even though they get the green light. But through the spring and summer, they all practice their melodies and color communication. They live, they shade, they observe, and they grow. They communicate with other leaves on other trees and share stories and observances from many miles away.
But soon the summer breezes take on a cold tinge and the matured leaves know that their final performance is coming. They talk amongst themselves and coordinate when they will begin to turn. While the leaves are more concerned with communicating their legacy, the trees are more interested in seeing whose color song will be the best. Trees are really vain creatures and keep track throughout the years as to who has more tourists, picture opportunities and photo spreads.
The day arrives and the leaves burst forth in blazing multicolored glory. A true feast for the senses. The leaves sing to all who care to listen and after a while they one by one start to fall silent. The next time you look at an autumn tree, really stop to look at the leaves. The last ones remaining on the limbs have the most to say. They have the greatest stamina and are carrying out the last notes of fall before the frost comes to trace its patterns on the world and make ready for winter.
The leaves fall or are picked off. But they do not die. A leaf never dies, it merely changes it's tune. Some may fall to the ground and decompose taking up the song of the earth. Others may fall into waters and liquefy, forever to become part of the song of the seas and rivers. Still others may end up pressed between pages or kept as display. Those fortunate few get to keep observing and continuing the song they started with. You see, there is more to leaves than you originally thought. All you have to do is listen.
Friday, October 2, 2015
October Thought Day 3: Easy Like October
If you have read my October Thoughts before, then you know that there are many facets of the month that I enjoy. There is the scary, the sublime, the cozy, the beautiful, the creative, the weird and everything in between and then some. Sometimes I could write for days on a particular aspect and never think of stopping. Some days I am content to just let October be. This one of those days. I've been a bit under the weather lately and today I spent all day watching October movies. One after the other after the other. Usually that in and of itself is a prompt for an October Thought, but it was a moment in between that caught my attention.
On my computer I have many seasonal files. Some are pictures, some poems or writings. What caught my eye today was a picture of an autumn lake. The water looks cool and clear and cold. There is a ripple off to the side where a fish may or may not have jumped and disturbed the water. Perhaps someone just out of frame has just tossed a pebble and we are seeing the remnants of a skip. Either way, it is a picture of calmness and the beauty of fall. The lake is ringed on three sides by autumnal trees moving up a hillside. But it is what lies in the middle of the frame that grabs me.
In the front middle is a little floating dock that is disconnected from the shore. On that dock are two Adirondack chairs arranged to face each other. One has a blanket tossed over it. Both are empty and there are no people in the picture. No signs of life at all other than those chairs. They just sit out in the middle of the water, ready for someone or someone's to come and occupy them. I can see myself in that picture. I can see me sitting crosswise with my legs hanging off the sides of one of the arms. I would have a cup of tea with the steam rising off the top next to me on the other chair and a book in my hand as well as a pile yet to read down on the dock.
Today more than anything I wanted to be in that picture. I wanted to close my eyes and listen to the gentle breeze rustle the leaves on the trees. I wanted to hear the plinks and plunks of tiny disturbances in the water. To smell the earth and water on the wind and just be.
It was a nice world to inhabit for a little while. Instead of a lake I settled for a sea of blankets in my room. I did drape my legs over the side of the chair and I did have a cup of tea and many books by my side. So all in all, if i couldn't be in the picture, I had a pretty good substitute. I might not have had the serene natural setting, but I did have the comfort of familiar holiday cinema.
October is like that. There is beauty in stolen moments. There is magic in imagination. I've said it before and I'll say it again, in October anything is possible.
On my computer I have many seasonal files. Some are pictures, some poems or writings. What caught my eye today was a picture of an autumn lake. The water looks cool and clear and cold. There is a ripple off to the side where a fish may or may not have jumped and disturbed the water. Perhaps someone just out of frame has just tossed a pebble and we are seeing the remnants of a skip. Either way, it is a picture of calmness and the beauty of fall. The lake is ringed on three sides by autumnal trees moving up a hillside. But it is what lies in the middle of the frame that grabs me.
In the front middle is a little floating dock that is disconnected from the shore. On that dock are two Adirondack chairs arranged to face each other. One has a blanket tossed over it. Both are empty and there are no people in the picture. No signs of life at all other than those chairs. They just sit out in the middle of the water, ready for someone or someone's to come and occupy them. I can see myself in that picture. I can see me sitting crosswise with my legs hanging off the sides of one of the arms. I would have a cup of tea with the steam rising off the top next to me on the other chair and a book in my hand as well as a pile yet to read down on the dock.
Today more than anything I wanted to be in that picture. I wanted to close my eyes and listen to the gentle breeze rustle the leaves on the trees. I wanted to hear the plinks and plunks of tiny disturbances in the water. To smell the earth and water on the wind and just be.
It was a nice world to inhabit for a little while. Instead of a lake I settled for a sea of blankets in my room. I did drape my legs over the side of the chair and I did have a cup of tea and many books by my side. So all in all, if i couldn't be in the picture, I had a pretty good substitute. I might not have had the serene natural setting, but I did have the comfort of familiar holiday cinema.
October is like that. There is beauty in stolen moments. There is magic in imagination. I've said it before and I'll say it again, in October anything is possible.
Thursday, October 1, 2015
October Thought Day 2: Monsters, Part 1
The thought for today is about monsters, all sorts of random thoughts about them. Let's call it part one.
For instance, how cool would it be to go to a monster's party? To just casually hang out with all of your scary favorites like you were one of the gang. (Sometimes I have Medusa hair in the morning, so it wouldn't be that much of a stretch for me.) Would you be scared or excited to attend? Would you be an honored guest, or the main entrée/entertainment? Would you get nervous standing next to the Wolf Man, especially if he had something in his teeth? How cool would it be to do the Monster Mash with Frankenstein or hang out at the punch bowl with the creature from the Black Lagoon. What kind of games would you play at a monster's party? What would Twister look like with a hydra? Or a trivia night with the Sphinx. Or Hide and Seek with the Invisible Man. And what would they serve for refreshments? Hmm, better not dwell on that one too long. I think I've been watching Hotel Transylvania too much. Is it wrong that I have a fictitious place on my bucket list?
When I was looking at October décor last month I came across the most wonderful item. It was for a Halloween village and it was a miniature bumper car set that actually worked and had monsters driving the cars. I stood there and watched Dracula side-swipe Frankenstein and then get rear ended by the Mummy. It was AWESOME! I came thisclose to buying it, but if I had, I would have ceased to be a productive human being for the rest of the month. I absolutely know that I would just sit and watch the tiny monsters bump each other all day and daydream that I was in the miniature with them. But I mean, HOW COOL WOULD THAT BE! Going to an amusement park with monsters. I'll bet you would never have to wait in line. Unless it was a monster amusement park. But where would the fun be in that? They'd probably do mundane stuff like balance checkbooks or bake quiche. At my amusement park Dracula could hypnotize the carnival workers into giving me the giant stuffed toys, and I would feel totally safe being in the haunted house with Frankenstein. Nothing would dare jump out at us. And just imagine a roller coaster full of monsters. I am getting all giggly just thinking about it.
But back to the party theme, what if the monsters had a ball? What would the invitations look like? Would they be in fancy silver calligraphy and delivered by bats in top hats? Would a jolly jester turn summersaults and juggle them right up to my doorstep? Perhaps the Headless Horseman would deliver one and it would be in the form of a jack o' lantern that actually spoke the invitation. What would I wear to such a fabulous event and how would I travel? Would I wear a gossamer gown that was woven by spiders and looked like moonlight. Maybe the Bride of Frankenstein would go with me to get my hair done. Perhaps I would ride in a pumpkin carriage like Cinderella. Or be picked up in a hearse driven by a gargoyle. I know the party would be held at Castle Dracula and Igor would answer the door, or else a very stately zombie butler. I can just see the sconces and torchlight. The tasteful cobwebs, the specially tuned creaky doors and the paintings where the eyes follow you everywhere. It would indeed be a night to remember.
But why is it when we think of monsters they never live in the suburbs? Perhaps because that thought might be a bit too frightening. No, monsters live in easily identifiable houses that scream beware. Everyone knows they are either in secluded areas, falling down houses, or on top of mountains. But what if these monsters had a condo and Wi-Fi? Imagine a sleek ultra modern bachelor pad with a Roomba and killer stereo system. What would the Dominoes guy say when he delivered an extra anchovy pizza and a lizard man answered the door? Which gets me thinking, what would hipster monsters look like? Would the Wolf Man have a man bun, or Frankenstein wear glasses? Would Dracula go steampunk or the Mummy be into urban renewal and composting? I think I just scared myself.
I like my monsters just the way they are. I like the black and white, the tradition, the bolts and bats and capes. I like my castles without modern conveniences and with an abundance of creepy cellars. I like old fashioned carriages and telegrams rather than cell phones. Yes, I like my monsters just the way they are, and I wouldn't have them any other way. And if I ever do get to attend a monster's ball, I'll be sure to tell you all about it. Probably.
For instance, how cool would it be to go to a monster's party? To just casually hang out with all of your scary favorites like you were one of the gang. (Sometimes I have Medusa hair in the morning, so it wouldn't be that much of a stretch for me.) Would you be scared or excited to attend? Would you be an honored guest, or the main entrée/entertainment? Would you get nervous standing next to the Wolf Man, especially if he had something in his teeth? How cool would it be to do the Monster Mash with Frankenstein or hang out at the punch bowl with the creature from the Black Lagoon. What kind of games would you play at a monster's party? What would Twister look like with a hydra? Or a trivia night with the Sphinx. Or Hide and Seek with the Invisible Man. And what would they serve for refreshments? Hmm, better not dwell on that one too long. I think I've been watching Hotel Transylvania too much. Is it wrong that I have a fictitious place on my bucket list?
When I was looking at October décor last month I came across the most wonderful item. It was for a Halloween village and it was a miniature bumper car set that actually worked and had monsters driving the cars. I stood there and watched Dracula side-swipe Frankenstein and then get rear ended by the Mummy. It was AWESOME! I came thisclose to buying it, but if I had, I would have ceased to be a productive human being for the rest of the month. I absolutely know that I would just sit and watch the tiny monsters bump each other all day and daydream that I was in the miniature with them. But I mean, HOW COOL WOULD THAT BE! Going to an amusement park with monsters. I'll bet you would never have to wait in line. Unless it was a monster amusement park. But where would the fun be in that? They'd probably do mundane stuff like balance checkbooks or bake quiche. At my amusement park Dracula could hypnotize the carnival workers into giving me the giant stuffed toys, and I would feel totally safe being in the haunted house with Frankenstein. Nothing would dare jump out at us. And just imagine a roller coaster full of monsters. I am getting all giggly just thinking about it.
But back to the party theme, what if the monsters had a ball? What would the invitations look like? Would they be in fancy silver calligraphy and delivered by bats in top hats? Would a jolly jester turn summersaults and juggle them right up to my doorstep? Perhaps the Headless Horseman would deliver one and it would be in the form of a jack o' lantern that actually spoke the invitation. What would I wear to such a fabulous event and how would I travel? Would I wear a gossamer gown that was woven by spiders and looked like moonlight. Maybe the Bride of Frankenstein would go with me to get my hair done. Perhaps I would ride in a pumpkin carriage like Cinderella. Or be picked up in a hearse driven by a gargoyle. I know the party would be held at Castle Dracula and Igor would answer the door, or else a very stately zombie butler. I can just see the sconces and torchlight. The tasteful cobwebs, the specially tuned creaky doors and the paintings where the eyes follow you everywhere. It would indeed be a night to remember.
But why is it when we think of monsters they never live in the suburbs? Perhaps because that thought might be a bit too frightening. No, monsters live in easily identifiable houses that scream beware. Everyone knows they are either in secluded areas, falling down houses, or on top of mountains. But what if these monsters had a condo and Wi-Fi? Imagine a sleek ultra modern bachelor pad with a Roomba and killer stereo system. What would the Dominoes guy say when he delivered an extra anchovy pizza and a lizard man answered the door? Which gets me thinking, what would hipster monsters look like? Would the Wolf Man have a man bun, or Frankenstein wear glasses? Would Dracula go steampunk or the Mummy be into urban renewal and composting? I think I just scared myself.
I like my monsters just the way they are. I like the black and white, the tradition, the bolts and bats and capes. I like my castles without modern conveniences and with an abundance of creepy cellars. I like old fashioned carriages and telegrams rather than cell phones. Yes, I like my monsters just the way they are, and I wouldn't have them any other way. And if I ever do get to attend a monster's ball, I'll be sure to tell you all about it. Probably.
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