|Not my friend's scarecrow, but I'd have waved.|
Last week, I waved at a friend lounging in an Adirondack chair by her front door. Friend didn’t wave back, which earned her a second glance. Oops. I’d greeted a straw figure dressed in skinny jeans and flannel. Hey, the fedora was a nice touch.
Halloween decorating isn’t about a Jack-o-lantern or two. The ambitious drape sheets over helium balloons to create ghosts. Spooky music plays from porches, and dry ice fogs pathways. My friend gave her scarecrow black plastic eyeglasses for a hipster vibe.
Halloween’s tomorrow, so time’s already running out for straw folk with pumpkin heads, zombies in cast-off clothes, and life-sized witches. That means I won’t wave at a non-human until the animated Santas, Grinches, and elves appear late next month. Hoo, it’s coming up fast.
My ninety-year-old mother doesn’t get out as often as she’d like. She reads, watches a little television, and listens to the radio. I don’t know where or when she became a fan of golfer Phil Mickleson, but whenever he’s mentioned and whatever the context, she says, “He’s such a nice man.” Now Phil has competition. The Voice introduced my mom to singer/songwriter/record producer Pharrell Williams. “He’s such a nice man,” she says.
Not long ago, I whined in this space about hummingbirds so hungry, I couldn’t mix, heat, and cool sugar water fast enough. Now, the birds have migrated, and I miss them.
I keep thinking of a line from a song sung by Joni Mitchell: “Don’t it always seem to go, we don’t know what we’ve got ‘til it’s gone.”
Note to self: When the hummers return in the spring, appreciate them.
How's your fall going, and where do you stand on Halloween decorations?