Which, for a girl who often walks at dusk (and spots raccoons), is a little . . . unnerving.
The wind is picking up, though, so who knows what lies ahead.
It was nice having everybody home, even though I had to work. But I FINISHED MY GIANT JOB at 1 p.m. (!!!!! YAY !!!!!!) and then took a walk (there was a chance I was hosting a meeting tonight, and I'd promised fresh-baked cookies and wine, neither of which I had on hand)* to the liquor store (which was awesome — I LOVE walking in exciting weather!!)** and then we all carved our pumpkins, which was 99 kinds of jolly.
Husband always chooses what we call a Charlie Brown pumpkin — a sad misshapen warty creature that no one else will ever choose, ever, and since he was too ill to go pumpkin-shopping with us, the kids and I chose his — and oh it is magnificent, almost more gourd than pumpkin, sort of papaya in color, and looking like someone left it out in the rain for 40 days and 40 nights, it is drooooopy. And then it took him 12 years just to cut a lid, there was so much gunk inside clinging to the pumpkin top; the rest of us were practically done carving our faces by the time he got the thing open (with a chisel, no lie). We laughed hard.
And also, this:
- Me: There may not be karate tonight because of the storm.
- Husband: I thought Mimosa went on Wednesdays now.
- Me: Yeah, but she won't go this Wednesday, right?
- Husband (hands plunged in gourd): Oh, right, right.
- Husband: Wait, why not?
- Me: This Wednesday, sweetie?
- Husband: Yes?
- Me: Is . . . ?
- Husband: Yes?
- Me: . . . Halloween?
- Husband: Ohhhhhhh. <sighs> Duh.
- Me (biting lip): If only there were some . . . I don't know . . . visual cue as to the date . . . perhaps somewhere nearby . . .
- Kids: <howling>
- Husband: Well, at least I know what I'll be hearing about for the rest of the week.
We had a fabby dinner, concocted by me and Mimosa: Italian sausages, bowtie pasta, butternut squash cooked two ways (the boys wanted sweet, the girls wanted savory; both were good), fennel slaw, and fresh fruit, and Mimosa made pumpkin brownies for dessert, which we'll serve warm with whipped cream. (And we ate by candlelight, in solidarity for those without power, and said a prayer for those without power.) And I had just one small helping of everything and will have one small brownie, and maybe I'll lift weights before bath and bed, since I've already done my walk.
No word yet on school tomorrow. I don't care either way, as long as we don't lose power. (If we lose power I want everyone out of the house so I can read by flashlight and make coffee in my fire pit without anyone bugging me. But of course it won't work out that way, more's the pity.)
It's not even 6:30 yet, and it feels like a hundred o'clock. It is BLACK outside. I predict early bedtimes for everyone.
May the odds be ever in your favor!
* Not technically true, I have tons of red. As always. I bring a bottle of red everywhere I go, I serve it to everyone who comes here . . . and I never seem to make a dent in my supply of red. White . . . lasts about an hour.
** I thought about stopping by Good Neighbor Anne's house to get her opinion about walking in a hurricane, but then I decided that I wanted to do it no matter what, and if she said it was stupid then I'd be worried the whole way. What would you have said, dear Anne?