Halloween

I don't believe in apologizing for not keeping up on this blog. It's my little free write sounding board, my little claimed space in the internet void. Even if millions read it, it would still be my sounding board. And a way for our fams to see what it is that we really do up here in the crazy, Mark-Zuckerberg-Steve-Jobs-Arnold-Schwarzenegger-inhabited slice of California when they don't feel like chatting on the phone. So internet void, I'm not exactly remorseful about my absence, but I am raring to engage in a brain dump, and for that, I say, you're welcome.

October was stuffed like an empanada with things! We're lucky to have friends here that we really love. And who invite us to do Halloweensy-ish things! We've been turning these



into these



(Ours is Jack Skellington. Also pictured are the haunted house and the all important SF Giants pumpkin!)



(our two pumpkins side by side. Jack Skellington with a jack-o-lantern sipping a cold lemonade on a beach somewhere in the South Pacific)

with the help of these



and these

(picture of adorable fun ward family who not only fed us a remarkably delicious meal, but carved pumpkins with us. My heart melted when child T climbed up next to me, glanced inside the pumpkin I was gutting, and gave me a thumbs up and said, "Yo going a gweat job!")

We also turned these



into these (the Apple Pie Apple a la Rocky Mountain Chocolate Factory. My tastebuds swooned and I got cavities just by looking at it)



and watched



with the some fun friends!

(again, not yet pictured. Caramel appley hands make for non-existent camera work)

Last night we attended a Halloween party. We spent hours coming up with things to be. Simon and Garfunkel? No. Bella and Edward? No. Bird and a Bee? Negatory. Then a few nights ago, it occurred to us. It was so simple, it was as if the inspiration muse had knocked on our door and held a poster board up to us with the idea scrawled on it in black sharpie while a boombox blared holiday music (like that dude in "Love, Actually").

Feast your eyes, kids: Reynolds Wrap.




Harry had some aluminum foil accents. I went for the full out body wrap. And boy was I sweaty by the evening's end. Too much information? Too late, friends.

We managed to make a pot full of white chicken chili and submit it just in time to be judged in a contest, thus the mess behind me. My word may not mean much, but I promise, our apartment does have a livable state of cleanliness all of the time except for tonight. Yikes. Not my proudest background for a picture, but this was when I was on the verge of unwrapping myself due to complete unbreathableness of a plastic wrap dress. Oh, and the chili didn't win, but the pot was completely clean at the end of the night, and I'm satisfied.

I feel fully Halloweened out. In the best sense.