Happy (day after) Halloween!
I’m still talking about it, yes. Just today. Halloween decided to happen on a day between blog days, so here we are.
Curiously, we didn’t dress up this year. The most I ended up doing was a lipstick ode to Bloody Kisses (as in the band Type O Negative). That was it. I did the rest of my make-up as I normally do:
(The lip product I’m wearing here is one of my favorite new little things, by the way. You’ll see it on the “October Favorites” list I’ll post next week Tuesday. Also, the color you see is the actual color; the pic is raw and untouched, as usual.)
I made it to Body Combat last night against all Halloween traffic odds. It took 50 minutes to get there! No, that’s not a typo! I’d left even earlier than usual, too. I got to the gym late but missed only half of the upper-body warm-up, so that was good.
Back at the house, we had zero trick-or-treaters, which wasn’t surprising; we’ve never had trick-or-treaters on our street. This year was like last year: I bought Halloween candy just in case, Callaghan harvested the ones he likes, and his co-workers get to eat the rest.
We lit candles and continued with The Haunting of Hill House on Netflix. We happened to be on the Halloween episode!
The most deliciously scary thing we’ve watched this week has been The Haunting of Hill House. The ugliest scary thing I overheard this week was an exchange at the courthouse that included this snippet:
Customer: I’m not stupid.
Woman working behind the window: I suggest that you are.
Maybe the spookiest aspect of this exchange was the casual, low-voiced calmness of it. It was chilling how gracious and refined both women sounded in their quiet and measured tones.
I’ve read that cats respond to your voice in accordance with recognition of your tone. You can say heinous things to your cat, and your cat will feel content and loved if you deliver the words in a content and loving voice. This came to mind when I overheard these two women. I detected no aggravation, no aggression, nothing sharp-toned, nothing uttered loudly. No impatience. No snarling. Just the quiet “I’m not stupid.” “I suggest that you are.”
This is a strange moment in time, I thought. In history. It was a warm day and I’d walked to the courthouse, but I couldn’t shake the chill as I left to walk home.