In October, our morning walks are enhanced by the neighbors spooky decorations.  One yard is covered in gravestones with ghouls erupting from the lawn.  Several doors down, a giant black widow lurks over the doorway, her legs creeping towards unsuspecting visitors.  The first day we walked Ella and Hobbit past the decorated houses, I prepared for their reaction.  But I fretted for nothing. Not even the strobe light behind the skelton raised their hackles. 

I used to buy a pumpkin or two every year, anticipating the big night, when I could stick candles in my creations. But no matter how late I waited to carve the gourds, they always deflated before Halloween. So, I did what most Floridians do… I bought fake pumpkins. I stack a couple on my porch and compliment them with  orange and yellow mums.  Scott hangs the Halloween flag. This year I added a lighted spider web on the front window.

This Saturday evening, I’ll fill the black plastic kettle with candy. Scott will pull a lawn chair up in the front drive and welcome costumed little people until the kettle empties, while  I do my best to keep the dogs settled on the sofa with the TV turned up just loud enough to drown out the noise of ghosties and goblins.