I am typing today's entry with one hand. I cannot lift my right arm. Why? Halloween.
I've mentioned this before - I love Halloween. No, I'm not into devil worship - far from it. I'm more the ghosts and goblins and witches on brooms type of fan. I like it because it gives kids - of all ages - a chance to pretend and poke fun at all things scary. At our house, on Trick or Treat night, if you're wearing a costume - no matter how old you are - you will get a smile and a handful of candy - two if my husband answers the door!
So, the Grands were here this weekend and I declared it was time to get out the Halloween decorations. After decades of collecting items for all holidays and seasons, then forgetting where I put them after a year goes by, I went to color coded storage. Of course, Halloween items are in orange and black bins; Thanksgiving in plain orange; Christmas in red and green, etc. It makes life easier for this forgetful old woman. My Grands and I went on the search for all things orange and black.
The one thing I didn't factor in - I am old and out of shape and get hurt easily. For example, I was standing on the hearth, relocating an item from one shelf to a higher one and, as I was reaching up, my left foot slipped off the hearth, sending shooting pains up my back. I'm pretty sure I messed up my arm by trying to lift things that weigh more than two pounds. There was a time when I could move the piano from one room to the next. Those days are long gone.
The next challenge came in the form of - Dash. My granddaughter pointed out there would be a lot of breakage if we put certain items within paw range of our little gremlin. Her solution - putting breakables waaay up high - we're taking practically ceiling height. We were also expecting him to get into everything as we were decorating. Our grandson was busy popping all of the packing material (note to self: buy more before Nov. 1) but Dash was nowhere in sight.
The only spot higher is the ceiling... |
I know most of the hiding places for all of the cats, so we started checking in those places. No Dash. The front door was still latched, so I ruled out escape. He wasn't on the pool deck either. Pap kept telling us he was in the front bedroom, but we couldn't find him in there. While my imagination goes to "escape" my granddaughter's goes straight to "death." I know. She kept saying, "What if he's dead?" I finally stopped in my tracks and asked her what he could possibly be dead from? (Grammar Nazis - let it go...) Her answer, "Well, I don't know, but if he didn't escape what else could have happened?" Her middle name is Wednesday. Need I say more?
We eventually found him, exactly where Pap said he was - in the front bedroom, hiding under the bed. He was clearly afraid of something, but we couldn't connect the dots and we couldn't get him to come out. My granddaughter even tried the ice maker which always brings him running. Nothing.
Later that day, well into the evening, he finally ventured into the family room, slinking as low as possible along the floor. It was now evident - poor little Dash had met his match - scary Halloween decorations -
This scary ghost about gave Dash a heart attack! |
Then there are the things that glow! |
Halloween 2015!
No comments:
Post a Comment