The One Where I Bash Halloween

Halloween.  That long awaited eve where tiny cherubs and teenage hooligans alike dance under the moonlight, showered in a cascade of confectionery.  Puffy cheeks envelop dainties of all manner and proportion. Chubby fingers covered in the sticky gloss of booty most divine.  To this great night I say…WHAT IN THE HECK ARE WE DOING?

This ain’t the post about how EVIL Halloween is.  You are perfectly capable of Googling all of that jazz.  (BTW-It IS evil. So there.) THIS post is a jump off from I quote I heard today.  A quote from an extremely wise person.  Here it is:

“People say, ‘Halloween is for the candy and the kids’.  Yeah, so are Chi-Mo vans!”  No kidding!  Halloween is the one night a year that child molesters don’t have to waste any gas money!

“Yeah, taking the kids out for Halloween.”

“What is this…Halloween?”

“Oh, you know, you dress up your tiny tots as Pixar characters, take them around to strangers houses and ask for candy.”

“Really?  Do you drive a long distance to do this?”

“Heck, no, I just go to the neighbors’ houses.”

“Well, alrighty then.”

The whole day is just sad.   Yay, another day that I am REQUIRED to spend a ton of money on costumes, candy and decorations.  My reward?  Oh, getting fat on my kids candy until Thanksgiving.  No thanks.  Not to mention the unspoken “graduation” that occurs. You know the one:

“But Mommy, why can’t I be a Elizabeth Cady Stanton for Halloween?”

“Oh dear, you are a hoot! Everyone knows when you turn nine you have to dress like a prostitute for Halloween.”

(Child wrinkles nose in confusion.)

“Don’t worry dear, Mommy did it when she was eleven!  Be glad!  We’ve come a LONG way!”

“Annnnnnnd, you also get to Trick or Treat by YOURSELF this year while MOMMY makes margaritas.”

“Okay, Mommy.”

“Oh and uh, stay away from old man Crandall’s house.”

In case you couldn’t tell, I have a slightly different opinion about Halloween.  No fear…I won’t judge you for doing it with your children.  Much.




Sustainable Farming Under Attack

I am going to break my own rule and get a little political today.  A fellow Facebook-er put up a link to a video that made me so upset  I could spit red hot nails.

What’s the story?  Quail Hollow Farm, a CSA, located in Overton, Nevada was set to have a dinner to showcase the beautiful benefits of sustainable farming practices.  Farm fresh meats, produce, eggs, honey are produced locally on the farm.  All waste is effectively used as compost to nourish future crops.  Located in a quiet setting, the farm harkens back to the good ole days with a touch of modern flair.  The idea is “if they can do it, anyone can.”  A simple, elegant message that deserves praise in a time of excess and  waste.

Praise, unfortunately, did not come on the evening of October 21st, 2011.  What happened was a fiasco so Orwellian in nature that I struggle to even believe it.  What truly amazes me is that this would happen HERE in the United States when the “People of Tolerance” are in power.

The video link is here.

Here is a link to the article.

Read it.  Even if you don’t give a rip about sustainable farming, take the time to apply it to an area that you do give a rip about.  The government came in, tried to shut down a dinner because the food was not under the caring concern of our champions, the USDA.  The food not only had to be thrown away, it was deemed unfit for pigs.  The health inspector required that bleach be poured all over the food, lest the upstart farmers fish it out of the trashcans and eat it.

Is this America?  I know that sounds cliche, but a statement that makes sense of this situation completely eludes me.  I can understand that environmentalists have a beef with Big Agriculture.  I get it.  But this?  This farm represents the perfect “balance” as championed by environmentalists!  When something as ludicrous as this occurs I have to ask, do environmentalists realize who they are in bed with?  How does it feel to have linked arms with the government so tightly?  How does it feel to have your message hijacked and used to control innocent people?  You don’t see it?  Then tell me exactly what these people did wrong.  Oh, and after that, tell me how the government needs to instruct me on what I can and cannot give to my family.  Where has common sense gone?  If the government doesn’t tell me what I can feed my kids, I may just decide to give them bleach to drink.  Is that what it has come to?  Pish Posh.

I don’t want to live in a land where I am told the wage I WILL be making, the food I WILL be eating, the housing I WILL be living in, the work I WILL be doing, the clothes I WILL be wearing,  the number of children I WILL be having, the number of items I WILL be owning, the amount of money I WILL be “donating”.  That is not freedom.  That is life on the plantation.  And this country has shed too much blood, and fought too hard to go back to the plantation.  Wake up.  Wake up.  Wake up.

Why I NEVER Wash New Clothes Before Wearing Them. (Except Underwear…and Bathing Suits.)


(Certainly NOT me.)

Yeah, yeah, I KNOW what you are going to say.  Gross!!  The chemicals, the possible DNA from STRANGERS!  I beg you, please hear me out.

I rarely get new clothes.  I wasn’t always this fashonically challenged, I used to have quite the healthy, full closet.  I was the friend who dumped all her clothes on you and said “I hardly wear any of this stuff anymore, want it?”  Over time my wardrobe has shriveled.  There are various reasons.  I don’t want to buy “fat” clothes.  I don’t have the money.  I don’t have the time to shop.  I can’t find anything I like, because I am fat.  Those things.  Lord knows, I would do ANYTHING to be thin, except eat right and exercise. The clothes I do have are stained, bleached, ill fitting, and embarrassing.

When I do get something new I have to wear it right away.  I have to go many places and show people that I am ACTUALLY wearing something new.  Why?  Pride?  Insolence? Nope.   I do it because the odds are giant that it will get ruined the first time I wash it or wear it.  My husband says I am cursed.  At least 50 times during our marriage I have put a shirt that I have worn once in the laundry and it comes out with a bleach mark, or crayon smudge that will never. come. out.  Or I will be wearing the outfit for a special occasion and will go do a quick spot clean in the bathroom or kitchen, whoops!, and bleach.  (I have an apron, but it doesn’t help if I forget to wear it.)  There have been more times than I care to mention that my whitening toothpaste has ruined a shirt, pants, or sweater.  It’s drives me absolutely mad.  I have cried over it, but bleach doesn’t care about my tears.

If you see me, and my pants have creases or fuzz from stickers, take a picture.  Cuz, like Bigfoot trudging through the forest, some things gotta be seen to be believed  Lizzie bear in new clothes is one of them.