The air here where we live is warm and dry. An East wind condition settled in earlier this morning and the temperature today reached into the 90’s. The evening was not as cool as it could’ve been, and it bordered on the uncomfortable–still, Peanut was out for her fifth Trick or Treat romp. Well, that’s not true. She went Trick or Treating for her first time in 02, so this was actuallly her fourth. She was rather an infant back in 01 and while I have a pic of her in an absolutely adorable Winnie the Pooh outfit with a big smile on her face, she didn’t do much candy munching.
Tonight, as has become our tradition of sorts, Aunt Laurie and I packed up little Cinderella, Scoop the wonder dog, an old squeaky radio flyer wagon and headed out while Sue manned the candy gifting station. An hour later, Peanut’s haul was impressive with the pumpkin bucket, her vessel of choice for the occasion, weighing nearly what she does. Lots of little Angels and Devils out, too–a statement which, when I look at it, has more truth than perhaps I intended.
All this after a day in which Peanut was gifted a hand-me-down of an old Barbie R.V. complete with disco floor fold out, speakers and a spa in the back. It came from an older girl whom we know, and today was spent in a sort of sugar stupor, reveling in the glory of her pre-school Halloween parade, Trick or Treating, helping mom set up last minute decorations and the Barbie R.V. Evidently, in the 70’s and 80’s, the marketing tool of choice was to put Barbie and her friends, the inestimable Ken at the wheel, in a gas guzzling R.V. to roam the countryside and stop, willy nilly, fold out the disco floor, turn on the mirror ball and start boogying. Nothing could have appealed to little girls of the age more, I suppose. One must remember that these were in the heady days of 75 cent gas and t-shirts that read, “keep on truckin'” and “Happiness is a full tank of gas!” My brother actually had one of those little beauties in his vast and expansive shirt collection. Doubt he remembers it now. What was it, I wonder, that made us fall in love with movement in the 70’s? CW McCall’s “Convoy” and even the Grateful Dead’s “Truckin'” as well as lesser versions of songs that all had to do with getting from here to there-as though the ultimate nirvana was being out on Interstate 70 driving down the front range of the Rockies, headed for Kansas. Sure, there’s something romantic in that, I guess–but out of all the romantic images one could conjure, it’s not really the highest on the list, is it? Besides, I would have thought that we got that out of our system back during manifest destiny, westward expansion, displacing Native Americans and all that.
Temps appear to be headed up again tomorrow, so short sleeves and sun screen will be the order of the day–and that’s November around here. It’ll be colder this July with the Pacific fog rolling in off the coast than it will be tomorrow. Still, Peanut will be fighting a sugar hangover and enjoying the fruits of the harvest, as it were.