Trick or treat, bah humbug

The memory of "Tall Betsy" haunted me for years. At night when I closed my eyes, I would see her bobbing towards me just like she did that Halloween night when I was four-years-old. The tallest, scariest ghost I had ever seen. Well, the only ghost I had ever seen.

In reality, "Tall Betsy" was the ghost my older brother created using a broom, a pillow, a sheet and some string. It was a Halloween prank he had learned from our grandmother.

Some folks love Halloween and the pranks, decorations, and candy that goes with it. Others do not. I fall in the "do not" category. Maybe it was "Tall Betsy's" fault but I simply never got into the holiday.

I thought that would change when I had children of my own and I could get caught up in their excitement. But it didn't. At least not in the beginning.

My first real Halloween experience as a mom came when my daughter was three-years-old. She wanted to be a fairy princess. I found the perfect costume complete with a white gown and sparkling crown. My husband and I were more excited than she was. "Get your crown! It's time to go trick or treating," we called. "No," she said adamantly, "I don't want to wear it." No amount of convincing could persuade her to wear the crown.

It was cold that year so she became just a little girl in a blue coat with something white hanging down from underneath.

The following year, she wanted to be a witch. My husband and I waited patiently for her class to come filing out of the building for the pre-school Halloween parade. Out came Batman followed by Cinderella and Snow White. Where was our little witch? And then we saw her. She was no witch at all. She was wearing the dress she had worn to school. Seems she didn't want to participate in the Halloween parade. Seems she felt a lot like I did about Halloween.

But when it came to my son, it was a different story. Through him, I gradually gained an appreciation for the holiday. At three-years-old, he wanted to be Barney the Purple Dinosaur. On Halloween night, dressed in his purple dinosaur costume, he took off running to the first house on the hill. I will never forget the sight of his tail swishing back and forth as he ran.

He continued to run joyously from house to house all the way to the end of the street. I didn't mind carrying him home since his feet were hurting from wearing Barney slippers instead of his tennis shoes. He was happy and so was I.

Even after he gave up Trick-or-treating, he still had the Halloween spirit. With the help and encouragement of his father (not mine), he put together a delightful prank, a table with a bowl full of candy and a secret hole in the bottom. When kids grabbed the candy, he grabbed their hands from under the table. It was the best prank I had seen since "Tall Betsy."

In his senior year of high school, my son convinced me to carve pumpkins. Until that year, my children had only been allowed to paint their pumpkins and even that wasn't an annual event. I actually enjoyed the entire process and proudly displayed the first jack-o-lantern I had ever carved on the front steps alongside son's. (pictured below)

By the time I got a glimmer of happiness out of Halloween, it was over. My son went off to college. These days my only concern is how much candy to buy to have just enough so I won't eat what's left in the bowl.

Now when October 31st rolls around, I'm simply reminded that I no longer have children in the house to enjoy it ... or not.

Missing my children on Halloween!

Lessons one quote at a time

I love quotes. I love them on a sign. I love them on a frame. I love them on a pillow... on a boat and on a mote. You get the picture. Thinking back to my recent time alone in London, I find quotes help me best explain this first time experience.

"Do one thing everyday that scares you." - Eleanor Roosevelt

When my husband said we could extend our trip abroad as long as I was willing to spend three days in the middle of the week alone in London while he traveled to Germany on business, I quickly responded, "Sure! I can do that."

Over the next few weeks, my confidence crumbled. I lay awake at night fretting about the trip. Looking back, I'm happy that I didn't allow my fear to get in the way. While one scary thing a day may be a bit much, doing something outside of your comfort zone every once in a while is a good reminder that you can do whatever you put your mind to.

Repeat!

"Keep Calm and Carry On" - One of three morale boosting posters designed in 1939 by Britain's Ministry of Information after the outbreak of the war. Although posters with this sentiment were printed, they were never posted. Fortunately for me, the posters were discovered years later and "Keep Calm and Carry On," is now printed on just about everything, everywhere you go in London.

My first morning alone, I anxiously got in the shower and thoughts of the day ahead ran wildly through my head. What will I do? Where will I go? How will I get there? By the time I turned off the water, I was in full-on panic mode. That's when I pulled back the shower curtain and had my Janet Leigh in "Psycho" moment.  Someone was standing in the doorway. I jumped and screamed.

Turns out, it was just my night shirt on the back of the door. I laughed out loud (somewhat odd when alone) and said to myself, keep calm and carry on. My new mantra came in handy over the next few days, when I got caught in the rain without an umbrella, when I thought I had lost my special locket, and when I took the train in the wrong direction.  I kept calm and carried on. Thanks London for the constant reminder.

Lead us to a place, guide us with your grace
to a place where we'll be safe.

"Sanctuary, sanctuary." - Quasimodo, Hunchback of Notre Dame

My most treasured memory of my time alone was the day I spent at the National Gallery but more importantly where I found myself afterward. For hours, I admired the artwork of famous artists like Van Gogh, Rembrandt and Monet. I thoroughly enjoyed the company of my hand-held audio guide that I held to my ear to learn about the famous pieces of art.

Much to my dismay, my new friend "audio guide" wasn't allowed to leave with me as I stepped outside at the end of my visit. Standing on the beautiful Trafalgar Square, my old pal panic returned. I had no idea where to go next. With a couple of hours to spare before I headed to the theater, I felt lost. 

I kept calm and carried on across the street. People were walking into a church and I followed. Inside, people were sitting quietly and I joined in. I felt a sudden calm and a sense of welcome. Suddenly, I wasn't alone or lost at all. Looking around, I saw six other single women who had found sanctuary in this beautiful church.

When I returned home, I looked up the church in my trusty guidebook. Seems I was sitting in one of London's best loved and most welcoming churches, St Martin-of-the-Fields. Since 1914, the church has been a welcome sight for the homeless. It certainly welcomed me.

 Connection to home.

E.T. phone home - E.T.

Each night I felt like the wrinkled, little Extra Terrestrial chanting, "E.T. phone home, E.T. phone home." I anxiously counted back five hours. Ten o'clock PM meant 5:00 PM Eastern Standard Time. That meant they were home. My son and my daughter both patiently listened to my daily play by play. It felt good to speak out loud and share my experiences of the day. They were my connection to home and I will be forever grateful for their encouragement and support.

We gain strength, and courage, and confidence by each experience in which we really stop to look fear in the face...we must do that which we think we cannot." - Eleanor Roosevelt

Well said Mrs Roosevelt. Thanks to my solo trip, I'd like to quote Huggies Pull-Ups, "I'm a big kid now."

I'm a big kid now!

Where did my bees go?

When I was trying to decide the title of my blog, I wanted to include bees.  Bees in my bonnet that is. The things that annoy me... the daily irritants that get on my nerves.

The interesting thing is, now that I have a place to air my grievances, I'm having trouble finding something to gripe about.  Sure, I get annoyed at the people standing in my way in the aisles of the grocery store. Don't they have any spacial awareness? And, no, I don't want to see anyone's barefoot on a car dashboard. I hate feet. And, yes, it bugs me when I have to cross into oncoming traffic to go around a cyclist on a two lane road.  Why bike ride on a two lane road at 5:00 in the afternoon? That solid yellow line means something to me.

But, these little things just don't seem to be bothering me as much lately. It has been a while since that day I felt the need to ram my cart into the girl who was wandering aimlessly through Target while talking on her phone keeping me from getting by.

Perhaps by giving myself a place to share what irritates me, I have cured myself of being annoyed. Now when I hear other people complaining, I want to counsel them to let it go. Life is too short to get bothered by things we cannot control.

I'm keeping the word "bees" in the title. It just has a nice ring to it. Not to mention, the picture of the little bee my son added to the title is so cute.

And, I imagine I'll be back in touch with my complaining side before I know it. But for now, I'm enjoying not bee-ing annoyed.

Where's my bonnet?