For now let's stick to the facts: if you drove down my street trying to find my house, it would not be the one you'd assume from someone who keeps a year-round blog of spooky.
In fact, you might think I'm THAT HOUSE, but you'd be wrong. You know, the one with the huge wood pile and a lumberjack with an axe in his chest laid out across it? The one with the headstones and at least one decomposing skeleton breaking free? The one with the mummy in a coffin? The one with the perfectly selected lighting effects?!
But no. That's the house I pass every night as I walk my dog. And stand in front of. And stare. And now, apparently, take pictures of. And get giddy beyond all reason because it's so danged fun!
So here are a few shots from last night's walk, taken in super-stealth mode (read: not very stealthy, but very quickly done) because I got embarrassed at having my camera out with the owner putting some finesse on his yard haunt.
I'm hoping to post more from my 'Halloween Tour of Homes' from around my area, but that would require people stop being all scroodgy about decorating their front yard.
...Oh hi, kettle. I'm pot.
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