Halloween Musings

Today is Halloween and I find myself reminiscing about Halloweens past.

Through the years I can see my perspective of Halloween changing. There's the innocent youth phase that progresses into the "I want to be cool" teen phase, which moves on to "Any excuse for a party" young adult time, and then a major shift when I became a parent.

My earliest memory of Halloween is of my sister Mary and I both dressed as devils and going trick or treating. Such excitement! Lots of walking rewarded with lots of candy.

That devil costume must've been in my subconscious memory when decades later I sewed my one-year old son a devil Halloween costume.

Ryan 1992

As a kid, Halloween was all about the costume and the candy. What fun to dump out your pillowcase at the end of a hard night's trick 'r treating and dig through the spoils like it was treasure. Sometimes we would find a piece of fruit that had been deposited in our bags by some well-meaning adult. We weren't allowed to eat it in case the well-meaning adult was actually a creep who put needles in fruit. With all that scrumptious candy though, we really didn't mind tossing out the non-candy items.

There was always the worry about the weather. In Texas you were equally likely to burn up in your costume as freeze to death. One year, there was the dreaded early cold snap and I was mortified that my Mom made me wear a coat over my costume!

It was tough when you reached the age where you were too old to trick or treat but still wanted to have some fun. I remember as a teen being asked to help out with a haunted house to benefit a charitable cause. That was perfect! I could have fun dressing up and scaring people under the guise of service.

Then the college years came along and the costumes got more creative and maybe a little raunchier and Halloween was more about partying. Sixth Street in Austin... need I say more? Early years of working at Shell brought more of the adult-themed parties.

And then a funny thing happened when I became a Mommy. Halloween veered full-circle back to the innocent kid-focus, although now it came with the added responsibility and practicality of trying to be a good parent.

I still cringe when I think of the year I was reading too many issues of "Parents Magazine" and I somehow thought giving out little boxes of raisins to the trick or treaters instead of candy was a good idea. Really?

When the kids were very young, Mom and Dad got to choose their costumes. I doubt 6-month-old Ryan would've come up with the Punk Rocker idea if it had been up to him.

Ryan 1991

Later on, we would make the trip to Party City, along with a million other people, and let the kids pick what they wanted to be.

Below, we see five-year-old Ryan in the pirate costume of his choosing while two-year-old Lexi wears a hand-me-down number from a friend and dreams of the day she has a say in her costume selection.

1996

Finally, two years later, Lexi is pleased to be decked out in her store-bought Barbie Cheerleader costume and Ryan keeps getting scarier.

1998

I remember Ryan being indignant that Halloween was not a school holiday. You see, homework was important in our house and he felt the pressure of getting his schoolwork done but still wanting to immerse himself in the fun of Halloween. In college, they call it Work Hard, Play Hard. Ryan learned it early on.

I think back to those Halloween evenings of getting home from work, rushing to put dinner on the table, insisting the kids eat a decent meal so that candy wasn't their dinner, getting those costumes on,  finding batteries for the safety flashlights, spraying mosquito repellant, and all this before the quickly-approaching bewitching hour of darkness when trick or treating begins. What a contrast to when I was young and it seemed like I had to wait forever until it finally got dark and we could hit the streets for trick or treating.

The next thing I know, the kids are grown up and gone and I'm left with my memories of Halloween. The fun continues though. Our neighborhood has some amazingly decorated houses and we had some really cute trick or treaters come by. The elementary school across the street had a costume parade on Friday that I got to watch. 

I got a little creative with my Mr. and Mrs. Pumpkin.

And I still put out a wooden pumpkin decorated by a young Ryan to help me remember Halloweens Past.

Return to The Heights

Once upon a time, a newlywed couple rented a garage apartment in the historic neighborhood northwest of downtown Houston called "The Heights". The year was 1954 and the couple was my parents.

Fast forward sixty years later, when Chris and I, a newly-Empty Nester couple, bought a house in the same historic Heights neighborhood. 

Dan and Edith Bus have both passed on but their spirit is alive and well, in my heart and in The Heights.

Living in this early suburb of Houston, first developed in 1891, is convenient for Chris's job downtown, as I'm sure it was for my parents, working at The Houston Chronicle and Tennessee Gas Company at the time.

I remember my dad talking about living in a garage apartment in The Heights, but I had little interest in the details, being immersed in my own teen-aged life, growing up in Del Rio, Texas. I certainly had no idea I would one day live a mile and a half-century from their place.

I was so happy to discover this photo from their slide collection:

A little detective work on my part revealed that the address above the door matches the address listed in their Wedding album: 718 1/2 Heights Blvd. I went on a quest to find their old place but I wasn't overly optimistic about it still standing after sixty years. 

Would you believe I found it?? I'm guessing that the house on the property was moved there, evidenced by the side door with no steps. But the garage apartment in the rear looks to be the same as the one in the photo, just a more weathered version.

What is even more exciting is the train-themed playground right next door:

Daddy loved trains!!

Now when I walk down Heights Boulevard, I always give a nod to the spirit of my parents "all aboard" the past that has become my present.

Be Happy Where You Are

It finally happened. Our daughter decided it's good to be back in the United States. This was after being back ten months.

We've been hearing:

• I wish we still lived in England.
• I want to go visit London.
• All my England high school friends are visiting London now.
• I miss England.

It was the combination of the Vanderbilt baseball team making it to the finals of the College World Series (Go Dores!) and the 2014 World Cup going on that made her realize her life here was not so horrible. 

It's a whole lot easier to watch sporting events on television when you are in the same time zone as the action. Also, the College World Series baseball games would be difficult to find on the telly in England.

I don't remember her exact wording, but she actually said something like "It's a good thing we are in America now." Hearing those words was like a milestone.

I reminded her how she used to moan about being stuck in England during the summer while all her high school friends were in America for the summer. The grass is always greener on the other side. The trick is to find and enjoy that green grass no matter where you are.

Discover the advantages of your current living situation and make the most of it.

Having your school win a national championship sure helps too!

A Return to Texas

You know you're in Texas...

 When the outhouse has a Texas star on it.

Sorry, no photo available of the bucket of corn cobs inside.

The rooftop fan is a nice touch.

You know you're in Texas...

When the wind chime is made of beer cans.

You know you're in Texas...

When the party features chicken fried outdoors in a giant vat:

Stirred with a giant wooden paddle:

Each piece hand-breaded:

Along with homemade mashed potatoes and gravy, green beans, sides and desserts...

So yummy!

Reuniting with Texas friends makes it all the more special.

It's good to be back in Texas!

A Tale of Crawfish Tails

Hi, my name is Crawford the Crawfish, but some folks just call me Mud Bug.

I'd like to tell you about the joy I bring to Crawfish lovers. It's a tale of sacrifice and a sacrifice of tails but I'm getting ahead of myself.

Once me and my siblings on the farm are done growing, we get bundled up in sacks and delivered to restaurants and stores and in my case to some dude that wants me showcased at his party called a "Crawfish Boil".

The dude meets my truck driver at an early morning Saturday delivery stop at a restaurant. Hmmm, I wonder what this day will bring?

We get taken to dude's house where we get to chill out all day on ice. We are so squished together in the sack that some of us reach our claws out as if to say, "help me!" But I'm thinking, "It's cool, calm down." And we all slow way down.

Then Dude's daughter wants to get her picture taken with me before she has to go to work.

Hey, look at us taking a selfie! I can't decide which one of us is cuter.

After a leisurely day on ice, it's time to move to the spa area. We get to soak in wash tubs in fresh water. We start getting lively again. I hear the large pot on the propane burner in the background will be our hot tub soon.

See that dog in the background? We taught him not to mess with us. These claws come in handy.

I can tell this is going to be a fun party. Everyone wants to pose with me.

Hey look, it's Dude:

Interesting apron he's wearing. Pinch Me Peel Me Eat Me, Ha, I wonder what that's all about?

How You Doin'?

This guy's funny too:

Dude is putting on a spread for our party. Looks like some healthy veggies to enjoy after our day at the spa: corn, mushrooms, potatoes, onion, garlic, lemon. Those giant bottles of Cayenne Pepper are really going to spice things up, Hoo-EEE!

Veggies get to go first in the hot tub. Luckily there's a strainer basket in the hot tub in case things heat up too much and we need to be evacuated.

Uh, sorry to interrupt this story, this is Dude's wife. Crawford won't be able to finish his tale, so I'll take over from here.

I can only hope that the little craw-daddies didn't suffer too much when they took their turn in the "hot tub". I hope they met their untimely demise in a relaxed state, enjoying their "spa day".

In tribute to these crazy crustacean creatures, let me share some photos of them being ceremonially dumped on their sacrificial altar to be enjoyed by the mud bug eaters. These were taken at Brother Dude's Crawfish Boil.

And here is Dude, proudly displaying his handiwork.

Time to pop off the head, peel the tail, and pinch the shell to squeeze out the yummy morsel of meat into your mouth. Sucking of the head and claws is optional. Strange that there's no body, just a head, tail, and claws.

I peeled about 15 pounds of leftover crawfish and ended up with this small bowl of peeled tails. The debris filled up the large bucket.

 It was worth it. Fresh Crawfish Etouffee for dinner:

So Crawford, you sacrificed your tail, but you brought joy to our party.

A Return to Blogging

The Russells have returned from a four-year adventure of living in England. It's great to be back but I have missed blogging about living abroad.

For months I've been meaning to start a new blog. A recent trip to a lovely island in Washington State did the trick to get my creative juices flowing again.

Walking around the cute town of Langley on Whidbey Island took me back to the quaint villages of England. That, in turn, took me back to wanting to share images, both visually and in words.

The town sits on a bluff overlooking a passage of Puget Sound where whales travel each spring as they return from their winter abroad in the warmer waters off Mexico.

Check out the sign. I wish we could have rung the bell.

This statue and his dog are keeping an eye out for whales:

Here is a look down the quaint main street. The "Tavern" sign would of course be a cute Pub name in England, such as The Crown or The Swan.

The Whale would be a perfectly-named pub in Langley.

"Artsy" is a good word to describe the town.

They do a nice job with flowers as well. As in England, the rain in Washington State helps produce an abundance of beautiful springtime blooms.

This patch of heather reminds me so much of the heather in England:

An elegant restaurant overlooks a formal herb garden, reminiscent of the manicured hedges of a European garden:

Thank you, Langley, for launching my RussellsReturned Blog.