Reminiscing about Halloweens past brings its own special joy.
When I was little, as an only child, my mom went all out for my costumes. And she was a seamstress of sorts, so I had the most extraordinary costumes... A majorette with gold lapels, a clown with a striped suit and pom pom buttons, and always princess costumes with sequins and glitter. I distinctly remember shopping for the Simplicity or Butterick sewing patterns at the Fabric Store with my mom. Every year a different spectacular costume, even though we probably only trick or treated around our small block.
My husband, on the other hand, had three siblings, 2 brothers and one sister. He was the same thing every Halloween: a Hobo. (Does anybody really know what a Hobo is anymore?) This meant that he stole into his father's closet, borrowed a shirt, went into the linen closet, borrowed a pillow case, and trick or treated until the pillow case was full. Everytime we talk about it, we laugh again. Boys!
Halloween for my daughters was more like my Halloween, rather than their father's. Our daughters never went as Hobos! They were Supergirls, Princesses, Witches, Roses, Bunnies, Pumpkins, Cats, Ladybugs, and even a Cow! All were carefully purchased from very fine catalogues in early August every year to make sure that there was no last minute panic! Unfortunately, I did not inherit my mother's seamstress skills, but we made the best of it nonetheless.
The Pumpkin Patch was also a fun tradition, and my daughters waited with great anticipation the day when we would visit and choose our Pumpkin, always at the Tapia Brothers Farm Stand near us.
But I think the most cherished tradition of all was carving the pumpkin with daddy. Without fail, the girls loved designing and giggling, getting their hands slimy with pumpkin innards, and carving a pumpkin with their dad. He was the expert. And still is. Lucky girls.