Halloween at Grandma's House

I know it's July, but for some reason, around this time of summer I always start daydreaming of Fall.  Particularly Fall in Alexandria, where I have so many memories of celebrating the change in season.

Halloween was always celebrated well in my family.  My mom would make a big pot of gumbo- I still associate the smell of onion, bell pepper, and garlic browning in roux with Halloween.  My sister and I always carved pumpkins with my dad.  We would pick out our pumpkins in the beginning of October, but weren't allowed to carve them until the last week of October, so they wouldn't rot.

In high school, many afternoons my mom and I would seek shelter after school somewhere cool in the Fall (in Louisiana it is not necessarily cool in October...)
We would go to local craft stores, sipping drinks from sonic and looking at autumn wreaths as well as other harvest decorations.  Something about the craft store made you feel surrounded by the season in an all encompassing and relaxing way.

When I was still young enough to trick-or-treat, I would wait until dusk and go out with my sister and we would make our neighborhood rounds.  After that, it was always a family tradition to go to my grandma's house and gather with friends and family.

By the time we would get to Grandma's, it was dark outside.  Her house, framed by ancient oak trees, looked more majestic on this night than any other night of the year.  Her neighborhood reminded me of the neighborhood in the movie To Kill a Mockingbird, or maybe the one in Meet Me in St. Louis during Halloween.  Windy and old, dark and warm.  I remember walking up her cement driveway, still in costume, and peering into the window that faced the driveway.  In the window were light-up plastic jack-o-lanterns, and behind them were dozens of family members and other children in costume.  I remember the way the oak tree leaves smelled on the warm driveway, and the way that her candy corn smelled in her antique bowls.  Not to mention the smell of coffee, other baked items and anything else that a family member had brought to contribute.  It was as if she had every nook and cranny decorated for Halloween.  Hanging plastic devils and witches, cut out black cats- all tucked into corners of her house, making it magic.  I would stare at her decorations, intrigued by them, by how old and quirky they were and how much I loved them.

Grandma was always there to greet us, full hair and makeup and boasting personality.  She was so cheerful and delighted to see us always.  It seemed that her house was meant to be filled with family, always bustling away with laughter and old stories that we told again and again.

We would stay at Grandma's house until we were sleepy, and we went home feeling like Halloween was adequately celebrated.