Hello and welcome to another late Monstrous Monday post. It is the season for monsters, after all. I have not been in a particular Halloweeny mood recently, which is too bad, because it is my favorite season. Yesterday I was struck with yet another bout of Don’t Wanna Do Nuthin’. I kept bestirring myself to At Least Do One Thing, with varying degrees of success. Here is the result of one fairly successful foray:
My mantle.
I was happy to find the lights to hang. They were in a bag on the knob of the door to my attic, where they have been since I took them down from the porch, an embarrassingly long time after Halloween (then again, they only went up Halloween Day; feel free to judge me). I don’t know if you can see Santa Claus in the background. He stays there all year round. I always think he looks like he is saying, “Good grief!” In this case it is probably because he is wondering why it took me till nearly halfway through the month to get a single Halloween decoration up (although in general, I think it is because that long piece of paper he is holding is the Naughty List).
The well dressed skeleton.
I looked for a picture of the mantle decorated by my late, dearly missed husband Steve but could not find one. He had a flair for decorating. Here is the Halloween outfit he put together for Bonita, our skeleton. She has been embracing nudity lately, but perhaps I will help her into some seasonal duds before too long. Bonaparte, her small, admiring friend, you may have noticed on the mantle, sitting in a mug from Adirondack Railroad. I think he is irresistibly cute.
The Ghost of Christmas Past? or Present?
I close with another decoration of my own: our other Santa Claus dressed as a ghost. I purchased that Santa the first year we lived in this house, 2005, walking home from the store with him tucked under my arm and feeling rather pleased with myself. My mother gave us the other Santa one Christmas, having purchased him at an antique store in Pennsylvania when she was visiting my sister Vicki.
I guess this post has not been particularly monstrous, unless you dislike reading about personal reminiscences and the other drivel that comes out of my typing fingers. Sometimes one can only type what comes out. However, if you’ll stay tuned, I hope to have other Mohawk Valley Adventures later this week.
Mohawk Valley Girl 