Autumn Leaves

Today I am thankful for kids who love autumn as much as I do.

In Utah autumn is just a blink between summer and winter so we try to enjoy it fully while it's here. We play in the leaves, bake up pumpkin-infused treats and eat them until we almost turn orange, and marvel over the brilliance of the changing colors on the mountains that surround us.

The photo above is by Thumbelina, taken a couple of weeks ago just down the road from where we live. It is our favorite local tree, towering over a vacant field. In the autumn it transforms from green to the brightest of yellows and then slowly creates a blanket of leaves at its base until the winter winds have blown every last one away. The day Thumbelina took this picture she was admiring the sunset and suggested we see how it looked behind this tree. The word breathtaking comes to mind.

And then this morning I found a little orange booklet on the table, a Halloween book which All-a-Boy has been working on in his class at school, containing the following poem which he authored:

Leaves jump from the trees,
Diving into a suicidal fall,
Autumn has arrived.
Autumn brought its cold winds,
Autumn has brought its gray skies.
I hear the wind knocking at my door,
Like an anonymous guest,
Waiting to be let in.
Clouds hang overhead,
Threatening me with their ice and snow.
I smile.
Autumn is amazing.

Amazing, indeed.

The Spooky Side of Halloween

This is how we usually decorate our house for Halloween each year.


But for this year... nothing.

We decided to use the time required for set-up towards installing a fence instead - something we've wanted for 12 years. So to make it up to our kids we've done a few other things to keep the Halloween spirit alive this year; one of these things was promising the 4 oldest kids a trip to the Haunted Forest. Allen and the 3 oldest kids had gone last year and came back with stories using the phrases 'totally freaked me out' and 'scared me half to death' which pretty much cemented in my brain that I would never have any desire to see it for myself. I mean, seriously, who PAYS for fear? Not me.

Until this year.

After numerous pleadings that I HAD to come and how it would be SO much more fun to go with someone who had never been, I caved. I live to please.

I had been to Knott's Scary Farm in California enough times as a teenager to know that the spooks and creepers can see fear in your face and that's when they target you. So my plan was to never look them in the eye.

Plan: FAILED.

Every creeper in that blasted Haunted Forest swarmed around me like I was the last piece of chocolate in a bowl of Halloween candy. And I didn't have to look at them... they would just breathe on the back of my head and I'd get the shivers and then they'd smell the fear oozing out of every inch of my body and follow me around relentlessly.

Can you say FREAKED. ME. OUT?!

Did it matter that I knew it was just a bunch of teenage boys for hire under those masks and cloaks? No. There is something about the whole atmosphere of a place that can dispel any words I had used to convince myself I could handle this.

Big 9 foot tall masked oxen? Gave me goosebumps. (made me scream) Freaky cloaked ax-bearer? Stalked me. Twice. (made me scream) Creepy clowns? Made me jump. (made me scream) White-masked chainsaw-wielders? MADE. ME. SCREAM. And that's the embarrassing part. I could not stop screaming! I would tell myself how ridiculous it was for a 37-year-old woman to be screaming at every turn in this blasted forest and to STOP IT RIGHT NOW but I couldn't listen to myself! Those stupid creepers made every last bit of common sense just disappear from my brain and I could not help being petrified.

When we finally escaped the maze I was exhausted. Every inch of my frame had been tensed up for the better part of an hour and I just needed to sleep. The next day I was aching as if I had done some strenuous sort of exercise the night before. But I will admit - in a strange way, it was a great time. Because who pays for fear? Me. And everything that was endured at night always looks better when you analyze it in the light of day.

For those of you who enjoy our home each Halloween, don't despair... next year we're going all out with some new features you haven't seen before - as well as a full-blown spook alley. And the best thing? At our house, no one pays for fear.

We give it to you for FREE.

Gathering Leaves

To add a little something to our yard for Halloween, we scatter leaves over everything. The problem with this is that we do not have large trees that produce enough leaves for the desired effect, so I have to gather them from elsewhere.

This year I found the perfect spot - the parking lot of the church in front of my kids' elementary school was blanketed with the colors of autumn! I gathered leaves in small increments until Halloween day, when I hauled a small trailer over with me.

After dropping The Princess off at kindergarten I began to rake, creating swishy patterns on the bare pavement and grass as I swept away their leafy covering. The leaves filled the trailer by the armful until the job was complete.

And then I had a fleeting thought - but it wasn't fast enough for me not to catch it and smile.

I looked around and, seeing no one, climbed inside the trailer.

I covered myself completely with the leaves, these colorful gifts from the trees, and lay there in silence. I listened to the rustling of the leaves on the pavement beneath me, blown about by the wind. I breathed in the smell of younger Halloweens and of autumn, then sighed as I realized I could not stay this way for long, buried in my memories.

I held a silent countdown: 3... 2... 1... and then burst from the leaves, throwing them to the skies and watching with pleasure as they rained back down into the trailer and onto the ground.

I made quick work of recapturing the leaves that were lost. As I walked towards the front of the suburban to drive home, I noticed something I hadn't noticed before. A woman, sitting in the driver's seat of a car that had been there all along, eating her lunch, watching me.

I smiled.



I'm pretty sure she was jealous.