haunted by twelve year olds

While on our anniversary weekend in Annapolis Royal,  we made one last stop before going home. We spent an afternoon at a nearby amusement park.  Upper Clements Park has many of the classics that one might expect: carousel, roller coaster, pedal boats, ferris wheel . . . and a haunted house.

I was intrigued. This would compensate for my disappointment over the poor timing of the lantern-lit graveyard tour. And being a traditional sort of amusement park, I fully anticipated a traditional sort of haunted house.  Walking up the long, winding path toward the house on the edge of the park, my hopes were encouraged.  Suddenly a house, quite an impressive stone house, came into view. 

There was a hearse parked in front.   And a suitably spooky sign beside the door.   I was certain that this would be the highlight of the park.  I waited to be "summoned" inside.

The door opened . . .

As we walked inside, we were greeted by several teenagers in park staff shirts.  No costumes.  No make-up.  Nothing creepy.  Or at least nothing creepier than a group of teenagers in t-shirts.  Odd, I thought.  But I wasn't deterred.  They were obviously saving the real creepiness for deeper inside the house. 

We were asked to "take a look around upstairs".  As I walked slowly up the dark, narrow, winding staircase to the second floor, I was prepared for anything.  Costumed actors.  A terrifying tableau.  Vague whispers emanating from the darkness. I wasn't prepared, however, for what I actually encountered.

In retrospect, I believe the house must have been there when the property was acquired for the park. It was a beautiful stone structure. Too nice to have been built solely for this purpose.  And I believe the house sat there, unused, until someone had the brilliant idea to turn it into a "haunted house".  And it would have been a brilliant idea indeed.  If they hadn't turned it over to a bunch of twelve year-olds.  Because that was certainly the impression we got as we "explored" the haunted second floor.  Three rooms.  A blood-splattered bathroom.  And two similarly "haunted" bedrooms. One of which was black-lit with a "ghostly" figure in a wedding dress sitting in a rocking chair.

That was the highlight.  We couldn't actually enter the bedrooms. Only look at them from the doorways.  As we moved along to look for more horrors, we were greeted by an EXIT sign.  Which led us past the haunted kitchen/mad scientist's lab, with various saws and axes strewn around.   And finally the group of teenagers in t-shirts that had greeted us when we entered.  We appeared to be disturbing their conversation as we left.

At least the sign was impressive.

Motha

So yesterday evening, I sat down and leisurely explored the pages of Martha's new Halloween magazine.  Ideally, I would have done this at home with my feet up, with autumn scented candles burning and with a mug of pumpkin spice latte in one hand.  But real life intervened.  So instead, I found myself at my daughter's softball game.  Where hordes of angry mosquitoes forced me off the bleachers and back to the safety of my car.  Fortunately, I had thought to bring Martha along for company.   I did have my feet up however.  Up on the passenger seat beside me.

But now back to Martha . . .

I was moderately pleased with my purchase. Even if the "Martha as Mothra" cover creeped me out a little. I have issues with moths' wings.  But that's another story.

This year's Halloween offering is not an entirely new one.

But it is mostly new.  And while not up to the level of  past years (which makes me wonder about staff changes amongst her minions) there are a few ideas that caught my eye . . .

. . . including the section on classic B-movie-inspired costumes.  Which I'm sure hasn't influenced my opinion of the magazine in the least.  My personal favourite is "The Vanishing Man".  Clearly a relative of "The Invisible Man", who must have been too busy for the photo shoot.

Yes, this year, Martha is all about classic images and B-movies.  And pistachio cupcakes.

I will most definitely be trying the pistachio cupcakes.

fascinating

Being endlessly fascinated by the pageantry of the British monarchy, I spent a large part of yesterday on the couch, immersed in television coverage of the royal wedding of Prince William and Kate Middleton. An event that has absolutely nothing to do with Halloween. Or so I believed.

And then I saw the terrifying parade of "fascinators". Those decorative head ornaments, each larger and more ornate than the last. And it occurred to me. Given the right atmosphere and lighting, these accessories were potentially more terrifying than any Halloween costume in recent memory.

The award for most horrifying of all would have to go to Princess Beatrice. Not a sight I'd want to encounter on a cold and dark October night.

two birds with one cloak

I've been giving considerable thought recently to the insanity that was the final week of October. The week before Halloween is always a busy one. But this year, the madness was multiplied by the presence of Hal-Con, my city's first comic/sci-fi convention, and judging by the turnout, not its last. With Hal-Con promising to be an annual event and with its likely continuing proximity to Halloween, I need a strategy to preserve my mental health.

And I believe I have one. In a word: Nazgul.





Yes, Frodo's pursuers may be just what I'm looking for. The ideal Halloween/Hal-con compromise.

Costumes suitable for a sci-fi/fantasy/comic convention. With the all-important requirement of complete facial coverage demanded by my teenagers. And of course, menacing, black-robed creatures are always welcome on Halloween night. I haven't quite decided on next year's theme, but chances are good that I can fit in a ringwraith somewhere. Certainly more easily than a Tusken Raider. And best of all, these costumes appear to fall well within the range of my sewing and gluing abilities. If I can piece together four Tusken Raiders, surely I can handle these.

Yes. Nazgul. The obvious solution when Halloween and Hal-Con collide.

Hal-Con

Last weekend marked the arrival of not just Halloween, but also of Hal-Con. The first comic and sci-fi convention held in my city in many years. The timing was unfortunate. Any time of year other than Halloween would have been preferable. Two great passions were colliding. There was no question of choosing one over the other. They would both have to be squeezed into one weekend. I anticipated a tight fit. And complete exhaustion at the end. I was correct.

Hal-Con was a huge success.

Hundreds crowded the Lord Nelson Hotel.

There were heroes . . .

. . . and villains . . .

. . . . and celebrities and icons.

And in the midst of it all, there was a small but intrepid group of sandpeople who arrived from the desert planet of Tatooine.

They had come for the festivities . . .

. . . and for the opportunity to put aside petty differences and reunite with old acquaintances . . .

. . . because Tusken Raiders are sociable creatures . . .

. . . who enjoy meeting new people . . .

. . . and make friends easily. . .

. . . which made the journey across the galaxy worthwhile . . .

. . . and left them eagerly anticipating next year's convention.

If this year's success is any indication, there will certainly be a Hal-Con in 2011. Likely on the same weekend. Most people seemed to think the timing was a great idea. I'd better start preparing now.

down to the wire

With five days until Hal-Con and seven until Halloween night, things have been a little chaotic around here. The four Tusken Raider costumes, however, are almost complete. Needing just a few finishing touches. Like teeth. The creation of the heads has been a challenge, taking more time than all of the remaining parts of the costumes combined. If I had realized just how much time, I might never have started. And would now be putting the finishing touches on my Golden-Age Catwoman costume.

In retrospect, it's been a learning experience. For the most part, an enjoyable one. And as challenging as it was, the real challenge is coming up next weekend, as I attempt to balance my geek side with my Halloween side. I feel a Jekyll and Hyde moment coming on.

Merry Christmas

There are few experiences more joyous, more truly heart-warming, than to open the front door on a hot and humid and hazy 35C day, to step out onto the veranda hoping for the merest hint of a breeze, to look down as your eye catches something amiss, and to see this.

All is not snowflakes and Santas, however. It seems that for a small investment, your entire family can ring in the holidays in true Transylvanian style.

Tusken Raiders on parade

HalCon's entry into the Halifax Natal Day parade seemed the perfect opportunity to "road test" a Tusken Raider costume. And the perfect motivation for actually completing one or two of them. That being decided, the gluing and stitching continued until the night before the parade. Finally, the costumes were complete. Then those always helpful family members casually pointed out that the teeth had been completely overlooked. So early on parade day, makeshift styrofoam teeth were rapidly crafted and inserted and the Tusken Raiders departed for the parade. More elaborate dental work would be required prior to HalCon in October.

The fog had burned off and the sun had begun to intensify by 8:30 a.m. as the Tusken Raiders arrived at the parade's starting point. They soon began to question their ability to walk four kilometres in the heat. But the fellow participant in the classic Battlestar Galactica shirt pointed out that Tusken Raiders are desert people and thus should experience no difficulty under the blazing sun. Yes indeed. So the Tusken Raiders took their places among the 20-something Manga/Anime enthusiasts, the Warhammer Space Marine, and the Klingon. And after some brief conflict with Obi-Wan, they awaited the start of the parade.

Despite a few sadly misinformed spectators who referred to the Tusken Raiders as Jawas, their presence was well-received. Several young children looked fearful. One began to cry. Always an indicator of success. Unfortunately, the second Raider's survival was placed into doubt as he incorrectly held the Gaffi stick, insisted upon waving to spectators rather than threatening them, and referred to himself as the "nice" Tusken Raider. He may have to be dismissed from the tribe. He wasn't even quite sure what a Tusken Raider was until the day before the parade.

Happily, though, these hardy desert inhabitants were able to withstand the heat along the entire parade route. Thanks in part to the cooling breeze which enveloped them as they crossed the harbour bridge. A successful road test behind them, the Raiders retreated to the nearest pub for potato skins and chicken wings.

weaponry

I knew those rusty old curtain rods languishing in the basement laundry room would prove useful one day. As it turns out, with the addition of some unwanted plastic containers, some cardboard and, of course, duct tape, they make quite admirable Gaffi sticks.

distracted

I am both horrified and embarrassed to admit this, but it's mid-summer and Halloween is the furthest thing from my mind.

I haven't planned props or pondered pumpkins in weeks. Even the 100-days-til-Halloween milestone has passed nearly unnoticed.

Why?

Because every spare moment of my time has been consumed by the creation of the Tusken Raider costumes for Hal-con. This has proven to be a far more time-consuming project than I had anticipated back in the cold dark days of winter when, inspired by my son's heart-warming agreement to participate in Halcon if we wore a group costume that covered his face, I committed myself to throwing together four quick Tusken Raider costumes. How much effort could it take?

I'm glad I didn't wait until September to begin.

The speed, or lack thereof, with which the project is progressing is at least partly my fault. My fault for relying on a needle and thread instead of glue, despite my non-existent sewing skills. My fault for improvising, rather than precisely following one of the many Tusken Raider instructional websites. My fault for attempting to re-purpose pieces of household clutter as costume parts, which leaves me absolutely giddy when it succeeds.

But there is a light - an orange flickering light - on the horizon.

I believe I have completed enough of the costumes now to slow down. Take a short break. Turn a fraction of my attention to other things. Like Halloween, perhaps. And I know that any day now the first of the Halloween magazines will begin appearing, which always excite and inspire me. Even the cheesy ones.

attachment issues

I don't trust glue.

I know that sounds ridiculous. I know my distrust is groundless. I know that there is an almost endless variety of glue out there. Strong and durable. Waterproof. Perfectly trustworthy.

Perhaps I should refine my original statement. I don't trust glue . . . on fabric. No matter how reliable it promises to be, I have an irrational fear that my project will be the exception. The 0.01% And that my glue-secured fabric will separate and unravel at the most inopportune moment.

I feel so much more comfortable with a needle and thread. Extra-strong thread. Yes, it makes the process of creating a Tusken Raider head a little more time-consuming. But the way I see it, I'm not just sewing head wrappings.

I'm sewing peace of mind.

the geek family prepares for Hal-Con (update)

After a couple of minor miscalculations and re-adjustments, I'm calling the Tusken Raider robe complete. It appears I over-estimated the size of my head and under-estimated the size of my hips. No matter. A few simple alterations and everything was back on track.

My dining room chair is serving as a model for the photo. The effect is basically the same. Just imagine it a little narrower at the top and wider in the centre.

Onward now to the most difficult stage of the project: the head. I do, however, have a back-up plan. If the head doesn't work out, I can wear just the robe, tie my hair back, and call myself Shmi Skywalker. It'll be perfect. As for the rest of the family, they're on their own.

On a completely unrelated note, I've decided to take up running again . . .

obstacle

While progress is being made on my Tusken Raider robes, having to work around a cat slows the process down considerably.

the geek family prepares for Hal-Con (update)

I suppose I should be grateful to my mother-in-law. And to her lifelong hobby of shopping. This is a woman who is always looking toward the next purchase. Whether she needs it or not. And because she usually doesn't need it, she must find a way to dispose of her rejects. Those items whose positions in her home have been usurped by a newer, better, or more expensive version. Occasionally, these rejects find their way into my house, via her son. Whether I want them or not.

And so it was with the grandfather clock. A tall, sturdy clock. Replaced after years of humble service by a new, taller and more ornate model. I was never particularly enamoured of the grandfather clock. But apparently, my husband was. Who knew? So the clock made its way into our house. But it didn't come alone. No, it was carefully swathed in two large flannel sheets. More rejects. Obviously replaced by higher thread counts. Perhaps she considered the sheets an added gift. Perhaps they were simply employed as clock protection. Whatever the reason, I am more grateful for those flannel sheets than she will ever know.

Because those sheets are old. They are worn. And they are a lovely shade of beige. Almost the ideal shade of beige, in fact, for a Tusken Raider costume. And with Hal-Con less than 150 days away (inexplicably scheduled for the last weekend in October) Tusken Raider costumes have been on my mind lately. Overcome with motivation, I gathered up the sheets, printed off the instructions I had found months ago and neglected ever since, found a pair of scissors and a measuring tape, and set to work.

If all goes well, the robe could be completed tomorrow. Maybe.

Doom

Yes, meeting Doctor Doom at Free Comic Book Day was a thrilling experience. But it also delivered a much-needed wake-up call. I need to get back to my costume-making plans, which have been on the back burner recently. My local scifi/comic con, not to mention Halloween, is creeping ever closer. Doom, you have been an inspiration.

eighteen halloweens

I have discovered a rift in the space-time continuum. There is no other explanation. Because I cannot possibly have an eighteen year-old daughter when I am barely past eighteen myself.

Apparently, however, she will be turning eighteen within mere days. And that has me feeling nostalgic and sentimental. And old. I am filled with an odd mixture of pride and amazement that I was actually instrumental in helping another human being navigate eighteen years of life and reach the cusp of adulthood. Much like the feeling I experienced on her first birthday when it occurred to me that I had successfully kept a helpless individual alive for an entire year.

While I am inclined to reflect upon the past eighteen years through meandering reminiscences and anecdotes and well-worn platitudes, I thought it might be preferable to simply condense those years into a series of photographs. Halloween photographs. As I pored over old photographs and made my selections, I was overcome with memories. And with immense relief that my daughter does not read this blog.

So in honour of her eighteenth birthday, here are Eighteen Halloweens:

1992 - Year Of The Baby As An Excuse For Dressing Up Even Though We Weren't Going Out And Had No Trick-or-Treaters Because We Lived In An Apartment

1993 - Year Of The Felt Bats

1994 - Year Of Insisting Upon Dressing Up As Favourite TV Character

1995 - Year Of The Super-Hero

1996 - Year Of Allowing A Small Amount Of Make-Up To Be Applied To Face (For The Last Time Ever)

1997 - Year Of The Winter Jacket Under Costume

1998 - Year Of Insisting Upon Store-Bought "Cute" Costume

1999 - Year Of The Homemade Ghost

2000 - Year Of Refusing to Wear Mask Or Make-Up

2001 - Year Of The Cardboard Masterpiece (But Still No Mask Or Make-Up)

2002 - Year Of The First Repeat Costume (And Still No Mask Or Make-Up)

2003 - Year Of The Pizza

2004 - Year Of The Cat/Raccoon/Random Animal (And Finally A Mask!)

2005 - Year Of Dressing As A Vampire Using Own Teeth (Braces Went On The Next Day)

2006 - Year Of The Werewolf

2007 - Year Of Insisting On Wearing Beloved Werewolf Mask Again Despite Parent's Alternative Suggestions

2008 - Year Of The Werewolf - Part Three (Parent Has Now Given Up)

2009 - Year Of The Salem Trip (Because I Couldn't Bring Myself To Include Another Werewolf Photo)