Halloween Reset

The first year it was a ghoulish free-for-all. The next five annual Skinner Girls' Halloween Bashes found us desperately trying to outdo the previous year's over-the-top menu and decor for themes including, in order, 101 Dalmatians, A Midsummer Night's Dream, The Nightmare Before Christmas, The Harry Potter Conglomeration (my personal favorite), and Wallace and Grommit. But this year, we're drawing the line. It's back to sweet, simple, no-holds-barred Halloween horror; come as your favorite creepy thing. Oh, and bring something with frosting. Or gravy. Or carbonation.

For the first time in seven years of Skinner tradition, M and I won't be crouched in the basement every night of October, lost in a sea of fabric and craft supplies. The sewing machine won't be zinging for hours, no more bloody, pin-pricked fingertips, no hot-glue blisters, no more locking four confused, neglected dogs outside the laboratory door so they don't spill paint or glitter or get tangled up in the Singer's accelerator. We've had a blast making group costumes in the past but this year it's every man for himself, which leaves me free to resurrect Mom's masterpiece Cleopatra from 1996 (just to prove it fits) or recycle another of my favorite costumes from the San Diego years.

It's been the busiest fall in recent memory for me, what with travel, moving, and a major motorized purchase to agonize over. But the real reason we just have to back off this year (and it's so worth it) is that for the next six weeks, Morgan will be spending weeknights at a hotel in Murray, while by day she trains for her new job: drafting from home. After more than a decade mired in remarkably miserable office environments, she'll be working for an engineering firm out of Salt Lake City that is so desperate for experienced drafters with good work ethics that they're meeting her halfway and allowing her to telecommute. There will, of course, be a probationary period, but after a year in the Evanston branch of a San Diego firm working on southern California projects, I'm confident she'll have no problem communicating via phone, e-mail, and IM and fulfilling their wildest Microstation dreams as efficiently and beautifully as she does everything else.

So this year we're asking for more treats than tricks. We're on our fourth location, Roger and Amanda's spacious, inviting home, which worked so well last year, especially since when we ran out of oven or refrigerator room we could just walk down the hill to Rae Dell's and commandeer her appliances.

Anyhow, invitations are inevitable, appetites and costumes are recommended but not required, and watch out for Roland. If you're not careful, you may find yourself with a Basset in your lap, and he has no regard for your costume.