It's the goth high holiday, yet nothing much is going on at the Rockethome. We've had but four tykes so far, despite the eerie skull candleholder we put on the porch. (It's been hanging around the house since Thanksgiving, when my mom saw it at the supermarket & couldn't resist.) The one good thing about the time change is that full dark came at 5:30, leaving plenty of time for trick-or-treatin'. The sucky thing is that it's bloody cold today. I can just imagine the conversations going on right now: "But the turtleneck wrecks the costume! But I can't wear a parka; nobody will know what I am!" It's the Canadian Hallowe'en experience in a nutshell.

My neighbour Patrick had it all figured out. He would go around dressed like a lumberjack in his father's gardening clothes, which allowed for plenty o' padding though not so much that he couldn't dash from house to house with my brother. I was always 3 houses behind.

There's something about that childhood experience on Hallowe'en that's impossible to duplicate in later life. The feeling of walking up driveway after driveway, knowing that something good would happen. If you turn back you could see a parent or maybe a neighbour loitering on the street, keeping an eye on you. The strange, soupy way that other people's houses smelt as they opened up their screen doors and warm air puffed out. The 3-second glimpse you got into another suburban world. And then the sugar high, the lunch treats for days afterwards, the moment when the last ill-gotten chocolate was eaten. I miss it. And in a way, I'd never want to go back there. At least I never have to explain who I'm supposed to be anymore in exchange for goods and services.

And of course, we must never forget that almost every Hallowe'en of my childhood was marked by tears, as I never quite looked the way I wanted to. Hmph. Story of my life.

Oh, I'm so full of crap. It comes from the useless feeling of being bored on the holidays I guess. I'd like to go home now, if only for the one night. I've started having the dream again, the dream of being in Toronto and lost or out of touch or ill-prepared. I think I need my next vacation.