Home. Made.

Home. Made.

If given a challenge to list every Halloween costume I wore up to the age of, let’s say, 15 ??


A clown


That’s all I can recall, probably because somewhere down the line, pictures were snapped to capture this precise moment with brothers and sisters in their equally impressive

(albeit politically incorrect)


with Youngest Sis representing a little further down the line

and  ahhhhh, those truly were the days, my friends, they really were.

Mom adored Halloween and as I sit here reminiscing, I’m quite taken with her designing skills too. Homemade was our garb, pure and simple and most likely thrown together at a last minute, I changed my mind, request.

I mean, our local Ben Franklin  had it’s choices of masks and crinkly, crunchy plastic wear and we probably took advantage of those selections every other year or so, but most times, I’d gamble, it was my parents and their !! let’s try this !! know-how that got us skipping out that door

& ’round the block we’d goooooo, double checking each treasured sweet along the way. The house that kept it’s lights off during trick or treating hours was always true to form, the lady with her pennies instead of candy, yep. And as we grew older, the trek through the neighborhood expanded and that goldmine of goodies = YES !!

Once we settled back home, the bargaining (and whining, I’m sure) began. I’ll trade you two of these for … and there our All Hallows’ Eve attire would be tossed, to be washed and folded and tidily placed into a maybe being worn again box. And with those garments went, all that thought. And all that care. And all that busy ! busy ! busy ! for our last day of October annual fun !

A clown. A vampire.

Yep, Mom and Dad, I may not remember every, single Halloween outfit I’ve ever donned, but appreciative of your efforts, I’ll forever be

’cause there’s absolutely !! no better anything !! than the memories of HOME. MADE.


Simple Things





2 Replies to “Home. Made.”