Slightly less wiggly than Junior.
Since we have no online teacher meetings today, our Halloween Schedule is our own. This is great because the Home Front has not been exactly the bastion of sanity. I'm behind on almost everything because between being upset about money troubles (that I make none), and trying to get Boy Scout patches sewn on, costumes made, and every thing else, well...
I've got a pile of laundry that's reaching my height in a corner. It's clean, but I'm behind on folding. I've got a kitchen that looks like a greasy dinner bomb went off, a kitchen table that looks like a school bomb went off, and our larder is running a tad bare.
Oh, and my palm pilot, where I keep all my shopping information, and months of data? Crashed. Hard. I lost everything.
Go home, Plane, you're drunk.
Rule #1 on the Home front, though. Never panic. Never. You could be actually on fire, but there will be no screaming, no running around. We deal with problems head on.
Also applies to palms.
Today, I have to work on decorating for All Hallow's Eve. On that note, I've decided that I need to join the neighborhood association and start campaigning for a better solution to Halloween, one that I'd seen in a dream, twice. First and foremost, spooky is great, but our neighborhood was laid out by drunken hobos on a five day meth bender. There are few streetlights, and fewer sidewalks, not to mention many, many front yard gates.
Trick or... Treat?
Do you enter a front yard gate? Usually those strike me as good signs to move on. Well, our haul has been less than spectacular the past couple of years mostly because of these reasons, so I had an idea to use the big local track/soccer field as a sort of massive neighborhood Trunk or treat, only without cars, and maybe with a sorta party in the soccer field area. Basically, we would be getting together as neighbors in a safe place.
And just because it's Halloween, I'll leave you with a picture that's not scary at all:
Not even a little.