On All Hallows' Eve

It is hard to believe that All Hallows' Eve is upon us yet again. It seems like only yesterday I was turning off all homefront lighting, disconnecting the doorbell and quietly reading a book in the back of the house. Time certainly flies, doesn't it readers.

Despite the many negatives of the holiday, I set about decorating the property this morning in the style of All Hallows' Eve. I enlisted the help of my new washwoman Isabel, whom incidentally fought me every step of the way. She asked why go to such exhaustive measures to decorate the entire property for just one day when she has to come early and take it all back down the very next? I tried to help her understand that decorating for holidays keeps one young, which in turn keeps a sparkle in the eye. But on the other hand, having seasonal decorations up for more than a couple of days is not only irritating, but also a safety hazard. From the look on Isabel's face I'm not sure she agreed.

Although Isabel insists that she is Spanish, I believe her to be German. I see it in her walk and refuse to discuss it further. I assumed her Teutonic eye would be a big help to me in staging sinister and menacing props around the house, but boy was I wrong. Not only did she not offer any ideas of her own, she seemed absolutely terrified all morning and afternoon and spent much of the day in nervous prayer. Luckily I was there to offer direction.

The trick to successful decorating for All Hallows' Eve is to go for a kind of Satanic Ritual look without going overboard. Having a startling and memorable decor is the goal, but compromising one's good-standing in social circles and the afterlife is to be avoided when possible.

In the snapshot above I've mixed a hellish raven and ritualistic black candelabras with heavenly crystal stemware and civilized silver leaf pumpkin votives. It's quite unsettling but very elegant. Nothing this tasteful could be soulfully inappropriate, now could it.

And finally, nothing says "October" like a plaque that says "October". Decorative signage inscribed with seasonal words or motifs placed in foyers and entryways lets visitors know exactly what they're in for, without a lot of sociological explanation from the homeowner. This allows the host and guest to engage in satisfying personal conversation much more quickly.

On Politics

From the very beginning, it has been my intent to steer clear of the subject of politics within this blog. I envisioned this site as a kind of "safe place" where both intellectuals and idiots could come together and stand hand-in-hand in the soft, indirect glow of my aesthetic judgement. (Over the years I've discovered that neither the felicitous nor the foolish have even the slightest clue about what constitutes pleasant indoor lighting.) Finding a sort of middle-ground on which to communicate, to help, and to enlighten, has been always been my goal, exhausting though it may be.

But as we approach November, I find myself feeling much more impassioned about expressing my opinion on the sort of politics I am encountering. Thus, I have decided to break my own rule. I will no doubt lose some of my followers as a result, but I truly believe that if I don't take a stand now I will not be able to sleep at night, despite my well-documented low-caffeine intake. So please hear me out.

You see readers, I have not won "Yard Of The Month" one single solitary time this entire year, and here it is practically November. And without any doubt, I place the blame squarely on neighborhood politics.

As an example, I live across the street from a woman named "Miss Hannah" who claims to be in her mid-90s and pridefully makes a great big show out of the fact that she still mows her own lawn and rakes her own leaves. Her pride however comes with a subtle sense of judgement which I have felt on occasion and don't particularly care for. She has won "Yard Of The Month" twice since March, and while I was happy for her the first time, after her second win I had a very uneasy feeling that biased neighborhood politics were coming in to play.

Despite the skillful work of two young gentlemen from the neighboring village of Pooler, whom I kept on an around-the-clock landscaping retainer during the months of June, July and August, my front yard seemed to go unnoticed month after month. In September I even paid Miss Hannah (a fair sum of $112) to mow and rake my front yard and install two flower beds, a cobblestone path and a water feature -- but even this seemed to do little to win the admiration of my neighbors. In fact it even seemed to upset some.

But in keeping a keen eye trained on the social maneuvers of the neighborhood, I have observed that the Y.O.T.M. Sign is consistently awarded to a select few who appear to have the time to exchange casseroles, baked goods and gossipy trivialities with one another on an almost daily basis. But as I've always said, scratch the surface of any "good neighbor" and one can almost always find a sinister and calculated intent of raw manipulation lurking beneath. Quite frankly readers, it's a game my scruples refuse to allow me to play.

So, in an attempt to end such blatant bias, I faxed the Neighborhood Yard Chairlady three weeks ago and proposed that we award two signs each month: one for Yard Of The Month, and another for Favorite Friend Of The Month.

I am still awaiting a response.