Halloween

I know, I know.  Hello.

I love Halloween - and there are specific memories from childhood that I love. (And gah, do I love the internets for filling in the holes!) Here are a few for you:

Skeleton Parade
Jack Prelutsky

The skeletons are out tonight,
they march about the street,
With bony bodies, bony heads
and bony hands and feet.

Bony bony bony bones
with nothing in between,
Up and down and all around
they march on Halloween.


ON HALLOWEEN
Nina Willis Walter

The witches fly
Across the sky,
The owls go, "Who? Who? Who?"
The black cats yowl
And green ghosts howl,
"Scary Halloween to you!"

And then, my absolute favorite...

Gram, this is for you.

I never took a real spring break. Well, maybe "traditional" is a better word. I spent my spring breaks with my Gram in Punta Gorda, FL. It was great. We'd tool around in her best friend's golf cart. We'd play cards and eat pretzels with peanut butter. We'd drink highballs and sit in the sun and visit the weird and random around her community. We'd volunteer at her church. Those weeks were some of the best memories I have of my Grammi. I wish I had been able to do it as an adult -- or at least apologize for the stubborn, hard-headedness of my collegiate youth.

In addition to spending quality Grammi time, we'd go shopping. Gram, who hated shopping for herself, would encourage me to wear teal capris and sweetheart necklines. Never black. (I looked like death warmed over in black). I loved it. And I learned that sometimes, even though a t-shirt and jeans would make me more comfortable, sometimes the situation warrants a little more.

So next week, I'm wearing bright colors. I'm wearing a sweetheart neckline. I'll be wearing lipstick (which is also due to my mother's influence: always wear lipstick when you need to feel happy). And when I have lunch with Grammi's sister and brother-in-law (my favorite great aunt and uncle), I promise not to wear black.

Confession #122

I have a confession to make (no, not that one). After canceling cable, I started watching Hulu with wild abandon. I discovered great new shows and one of them... One of them I am addicted to.

As in, have spent the last two weeks watching three seasons worth of one-hour programming. Y'all, the show is Greek on ABC Family. I'm not proud, but I'm not denying the love affair I have with Casey Cartwright and her nerdy brother Rusty.

I was in a sorority, and while it took me a while to warm up to the whole thing - this show brings back many silly, ridiculous and precious memories. I don't actually "recommend" this show - unless you need something to watch that is the equivalent of a twinkie or two-day old pizza. And since sometimes you need a twinkie-binge, now you'll know what to do. Enjoy responsibly!

a moment

Family Stone

Thanks to my Netflix membership, I've been enjoying Christmas movies up the yin yang. We're talking about back-to-back Holiday Inn and White Christmas features, which by the way, I don't recommend. I adore both, but they were shot using the same set, so it's a little strange.

Love Actually had it's moment, as did Meet Me in St. Louis. And now folks, we're on to The Family Stone. (man, is IMDB convenient!) I love The Family Stone. I remember how it was billed as this raucous comedy, when really it's a sweet family love story. Not romantic love, family love.

There's a scene where one of the daughters joins her napping mother. Each time I watch it, I swell with the memory of taking naps with my mom. I can remember the feel of the quilt on her bed, the softness of her pillow and the comfort and safety of those moments. Even though I know I'll never take another nap with my mother - and it's sort of sad - I love how a movie can take me back so viscerally.

That's why I love Christmas movies. You watch them every year, surrounded by familiar objects (my coral painted santa, three wise men and snow babies have been around forever). It smells the same - like evergreen and chocolate chip cookies baking.

And the best part about watching the same movies, over and over, year after year? While the movies don't change - Bing still croons and the Haynes Sisters still dance - you do. Each year, I'm older and supposedly wiser and I bring a whole year's worth of experiences, mistakes, expectations and growth to the tradition.

I know - after this hellacious year - I'm getting something out of this. Mainly comfort, but maybe next year (c'mon 2010) I'll get something even better. Whew, I knew I could make this post end with an optimistic slant.

ps. "You have the freak flag, Meredith, you just don't fly it." - The Family Stone

Tell me a story.

This is one of the coolest things I've seen of late: StoryCorps. Friday (Black Friday to all you shopping people), November 27th is the National Day of Listening. To celebrate, StoryCorps is asking you to record family and/or community history.

Whoa, you're thinking. Have you seen what's going on at Best Buy at 5:00 AM? Duuuude, Target is even having Black Friday sales.

Yes, yes -- but trust me, this is way cooler. During the Great Depression, writers were dispatched across the nation to record stories. It's why slave narratives were recorded, why Gullah was recorded (and some say saved) and was the start of authors like John Steinbeck and Zora Neale Hurston. The Federal Writers' Project seems like something you'd dream about -- and die to be a part of.

As a blogger, I know I'm in some small way contributing. But, my grandparents don't blog. And my aunts don't blog. And I'm pretty sure the old lady across the street doesn't blog (although I could be surprised). So this Friday, I'm calling up my grandparents - and maybe even K.'s - to ask them to tell me a story. And I'm going to record it. Check out the DIY kit here to get ideas on how to record the conversation.

You can do it. Be part of history.

I SO wish I was there

Ahh, Williams Brice. I can hear it, I can smell it, I can feel it. The student section is on their feet, bouncing on the aluminum stands. Across the field, season ticket holders and raising their arms -- high-fiving and smiling from ear to ear. It's buzzing in there - louder than the Swamp, I don't care what you say. Nearly 100,000 people in the stadium and close around it -- most cheering for the boys playing in garnet & black.

GAMECOCKS! GO GAMECOCKS!

We're playing Florida today, which is big. What's bigger is we've dedicated the game to the Wounded Warrior Project. We have special uniforms, honorary game captains - and you can even leave a message for our troops. Click the image below.

I love the University of South Carolina and I adore her supporters. It doesn't matter if we're losing, WE ARE THERE. If we're winning, it's just the icing on the cake. There are no empty stands at Williams Brice. We come to play.

Here's a toast Carolina, forever to thee.

On Sesame Street

Have you noticed the Google header lately? I thought it was cute -- featuring Cookie Monster, Big Bird's legs, and today - Bert & Ernie. And then, NPR featured an interview with various actors and performers from over the years. And instantly - I MEAN INSTANTLY - I was back, sitting on my shag carpet in the den of my house on 206 Anglewood Drive, watching Sesame Street with my brother.

I'm sure I never realized it at the time, but later my mom told us that she sent us down to the den to watch Sesame Street in order to calm us down before my dad got home. Sneaky? Yes. Effective? Definitely.

I loved Sesame Street as a kid. Who didn't? I loved Oscar, and the Count, and oh man - the Cookie Monster. I know I learned the basics from other sources, but I can't deny that Sesame Street shaped and formed my early learning experiences. And while I'm not planning on my own family anytime soon, the idea that my kids will watch Sesame Street too is sort of neat.

Y'all have any memories from Sesame Street? Turning 40 is a big deal...

The nose.

I was an awkward pre-teen (we were pre-teens then, not tweens). No really, I was. It took some time to grow up into my features -- my huge ears, lips and nose. I was super tall, and ridiculously skinny and dripping with wannabe attitude -- complete with Limited sweatshirts, sweater tunics and patterned leggings.

My family loved me through it - and that includes my no-bullshit Grami. I remember her failed attempts to pay me to grow my fingernails; I'm a still a biter. She would take me shopping, but refused to buy me black - telling me I looked like death warmed over. It took years to figure out whether death could be nuked in the microwave or required reheating in the oven.

During this period - affectionately called the Year of the Snoz, I found a picture* of my grandmother. She might have been in her early twenties - she could have been younger. And she was beautiful. Gorgeous. Lovely. And best of all - I realized I had her nose.

Not my father's slim nose or my mom's cute slightly upturned one -- I had Grami's nose. And I knew it was going to be okay. Just one of the countless times my Grami made my life okay.

I miss you, Grami. Thanks for the nose.

*Nope, don't have the picture. Wish I did. Carol was a looker.

October's Party

And with little time to spare - an October tradition...

October's Party
George Cooper

October gave a party,
The leaves by hundreds came.
The chestnut oaks, and maples
and leaves of every name.
The sunshine spread a carpet,
Miss Weather led the dancing
Professor Wind the band.

The chestnuts came in yellow
The oaks in crimson dressed
The lovely Misses Maple
In scarlet looked their best;
All balanced to their partners
And gaily fluttered by;
The sight was like a rainbow
New fallen from the sky.

Then, in a rustic hollow,
at hide and seek they played
The party closed at sundown
and everybody stayed.
Professor Wind played louder
They flew along the ground
then the party ended
in jolly "hands around".

What's your Christmas tradition, baby?

The hubby and I are spending our third Christmas together. And last night, we were giggling in front of our tree and the fire and talking about memories of Christmas past.

Our family traditions are different. In his, the kids wake up and tear into their stockings while the parents suck down coffee and wake up slowly. It's festive and lovely and there is lots of laughter. We eat eggs benedict with Christmas Eve's leftover ham. And then the family gathers in front of the tree to open presents. Honestly, it's a bit more sedate than my memories, but then again - we all are over the age of 25 and I wonder if that has a little bit to do with it. I have never enjoyed Christmas as much as I do now. I'm guessing, again, that it has something to do with my age.

In my small bag of tricks I bring from my family, the kids wake up the parents, but the kids have to wait upstairs - with clean teeth and brushed hair and made beds, while the parents have their coffee. We wait for the sound of Christmas bells and my father to utter, "Ho Ho Ho!" to know that Santa has finally left the area and we race down the stairs to recover our stockings. I've also never met a family that treated the nativity like we did. Baby Jesus never arrived in his manger until Christmas morning. It was placed under the tree while we slept, so my brother and I always checked to make sure he was there. You know, finally.

Luckily for me, my first Christmas away from my family included the bells and the cookies and trappings that were important to me. My mother-in-law called me and asked what made Christmas for me and she included my traditions into her festivities.

When K. brought up the fact that Christmas will be much more fun once we have little ones - besides gagging - I thought of the beauty of combining our respective traditions and making new ones for just our family. I'm always on the lookout for new ways to celebrate. Am I the only one who not only leaves cookies for Santa but also a small slice of cheese for Santa Mouse?

I love Christmas. We're leaving today for the warmer south and will be down there a week. I hope all of your Christmas wishes come true - and that you are surrounded by the warmth and love of those you hold dear. Happy Christmas!