I just learned a historical fact that blew my mind.
Matt is reading a book on the dark ages right now, and he told me that there is a paragraph describing that from ancient times, beer was made almost exclusively by women. But in the 1500s, men decided that they wanted to take over beer making as careers and set about putting the brewers known as “alewives” out of business. So they called them witches and drove them out beer making. Here is a video that shows how the details we associate with witches, such as brooms and cats, directly came from the legacy of the alewives.
So interesting! Makes me want to go buy another pumpkin, carve the word “Patriarchy” on it, and smash that motherfucker.
To be honest, they are in a different neighborhood but I couldn’t think of a word for someone else that lives in your city but not on your block. Citymate? Neighboring-neighbor? I dunno. But I think of them as the owners of the Halloween House and I have to go by to see what they have come up with every year. (I’ve blogged about them a time or two before.) I think this is my favorite so far; they have really outdone themselves. One of these days I need to stop when someone is in the yard. I have so many questions! Mostly to do with budget and storage.
To be a little more honest, I have one more Halloween decoration. It is five feet tall (just shorter than I am) and it looks like this:
The dogs’ names are (from left to right) Zero, Maxwell Silver-hammer, and Queequeg. (I name everything, by the way. I originally named the parrot and cat skeletons Polly and Pyewacket, but only to myself. Then, on a whim, I asked Ethan what he thought their names should be and he said, without hesitation, “Pierical,” pointing at the parrot, and “Port Jackson,” pointing at the cat. So, obviously, those are their names now. He said he didn’t know where he got the ideas for his names but clearly we were both feeling the letter “P.”) I bought the inflatable dogs last year after the fellas moved in because I wanted to make sure we had a fun yard for Ethan and the neighborhood kids. And also because, dogs.
Months later, long after Halloween, one of my neighbors stopped me to say hi and she mentioned the big dogs. She said that her daughter loved them. “And I mean, she loved them. One day, we came home and they were deflated and she started to cry. ‘They’re dead! ‘They’re dead!’ I couldn’t console her!”
“Oh, I’m sorry! I was unplugging it during the day to save power. But you know, they are ghost dogs. So, technically, they were dead the whole time.”
My neighbor responded with that blank look that translates as a reminder to socially awkward people to avoid face to face contact in the future.
At any rate, they are back up for the holiday. And I haven’t unplugged them this year. Not even once.
Once again, that house on my commute won Halloween. Last year they did a pirate ship. This year it was a ghost train. I didn’t remember to get some photos before the big day so the skeleton engineer and passengers have been removed, but you get the idea.
As it seems they have a transportation theme going, I’m trying to guess what they will do next year. I’m hoping for the Hindenburg.
My dog has a condition that makes his trachea collapse when he gets excited. Like… Say… When the mailman comes. Probably to murder us. All dogs know that mailmen are evil and have a freak out but mine does that and then spends fifteen minutes trying to get air back in his lungs without sounding like a Harley Davidson.
Once or twice a day, no biggie. Halloween? Nightmare on Elm Street. (There are a lot of elm trees on my street, but that’s not really what it’s called.)
So I’m opting out. I feel badly about it. Sort of. But this is what I’m doing this year. Candy is candy, right? Getting me to open the door is the least fun part.