It's the most wonderful time of the year! That time of year when kids put on scary costumes and go around to houses begging for candy! Of course it's Halloween!
My 2 little guys of course will be dressing up and heading out to get some candy from our neighbours. D will be a dragon. He's the dragon from the movie, "How To Train Your Dragon." Which means I have to pet his dragon head when he wears his costume, and train my dragon. I was trying to train my dragon to pick up his toys, but apparently dragons are not trainable to do that sort of thing. My dragon also breathes fire or he tries to. It's more like a dry cough, hairball style. M is a cow. Which is wrong, M is a bull. All I need now is a china shop. He is dressed for exactly what he is...a bull in a china shop.
Their warm fuzzy costumes, and Halloween made me think of my Halloweens growing up, in the past, eons ago.
Cue the dream music, waving lines, up and down and let's flashback to a different time, different place.
I grew up on a dairy farm, outside a little town, like the coal miner's daughter, but not quite the same. My dad didn't have the black lung like coal miners did, but he did have farmer's hands, which were rough, and calloused, and hurt like a son of gun, when he spanked. Or so I've been told, I was of course always an angel, not worthy of spankings... I was the dairy farmer's daughter and so was my little sister.
Growing up in the country, you don't get trick or treaters to your door. I was always some what jealous of the town kids. Houses decorated, jack o lanterns lit, the fun of answering your door and shellling out to kids.
Store bought costumes were not asked for when I was growing up, Halloween and trick or treating was a custom my dutch parents were not brought up with. My mom went along with this Canadian tradition and did her darnedest to make sure we kids got to go and have our night of candy. Mom was a busy lady with four kids, limited resources, her ideas of costumes consisted of using our barn clothes, tin foil, whatever odds and ends were in the sewing basket, and orange red Tangee lipstick for clown makeup.
When Halloween night would arrive, us kids would be all a twitter, looking forward to our night of begging for candy. Of course, we would be dressed as farmers, throw on your barn clothes, rubber boots, your barn toque, your winter barn coat and we were ready to hit the streets of our small town. Yes, it was slightly awkward when we were asked what we were.
"What are you 2 dressed as? Aren't you John's daughters from the sixth line?" townfolk would ask.
"Why we're farmers and yes, he's our dad," my sister and I would reply.
"You're dressed as farmers! Aren't you farmers all the time?!" they would ask.
We tried changing it up from year to year. Still in our barn clothes, but when you add a stick with a hankerchief stuffed with rags tied to the end of your stick, you're a hobo. When you take your barn clothes, the stick with the stuffed hankerchief stuffed with rags tied on the end and paint your face with your mom's Tangee red lipstick, you become that French speaking clown from the 1970's that you used to watch on TVO and even though you didn't understand that weird mime clown, you watched him anyway because there was nothing else to watch. Still barn clothes were the main part of our Halloween costumes. Tin foil taped to our hats...TA DA! Alien Farmers!!!
One year, I don't know where my mom got them, I think she got them from a lady at her work. At this stage in her life, mom went back to being part of the work force. She came home with the most wonderful costumes my sister and I had ever seen. She held out for me a beautiful pink full length spaghetti strapped evening gown, and for my sister, a velour forest green with gold threading jumpsuit. I was a princess that Halloween year, with my bristol board, tin foil covered cone shaped crown with an old sheer curtain glued to the top. My sister was my jestor. Also with a bristol board cone shaped crown on her head. No barn clothes that year! We were trick or treating in style! We flounced up and down those sidewalks, knocking on doors and we answered mightly, that YES! we were John's daughters from the sixth line! And NO! we don't know how many cows he's milking right now, but we'll be sure to let him know that you asked!
Grade Eight was the last year I got out trick or treating, and that was the year I got to go with my friends and I was trick or treating in a different town. We were giggly girls dressed in garbage bags and on the look out for boys. I remember it being cold that night, and garbage bags don't offer the same protection agaisnt the cold as barn clothes do. I was missing my barn clothes costume that night.
My boys in their store bought costumes will have a wonderful time trick or treating. By the time this is posted, trick or treating will have come and gone. The night of Halloween my kitchen looked more like a dressing room. It was like a night at the Oscars, with the numerous costume changes that had taken place. D was a dragon at one point, but that was quickly discarded and he was busy trying to cram his too small spiderman suit on his big self, and then was happy to discover that I had remembered about the too big Ninja costume and he happily put that on with me making modifications to keep it from off his arse. M started his day out as a penguin, morphed into a zebra, and finally settled on his Batman costume with Spiderman mask. It was when I looked at the pile of costumes on the floor, that I missed the days of just slipping on your barn clothes and being the farmer.
From the 4th line,
Arlene
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