The weekend started off with Milwapa collation at our house. I had tastefully decorated the downstairs with my (increasingly) extensive collection of 12" monster action figures. New this year were the "Barnabas Collins", Christopher Lee as "Dracula", "Dr. Phibes," and "Willie Wonka." "Willie Wonka" you say? Well--I think that when you take the figure of the vaguely sinister Depp in the Edwardian outfit and replace the candy cane with a long knife and a doctor's bag, he makes a good Jack the Ripper--.
We also had out some of our ceramic Halloween houses and the Jack-O-Lanterns of the season. Georgie always does the traditional Schnobrich pattern: Round eyes, traingle nose, grinning mouth with one square tooth. I try to do a different monster each year, and managed a creditable "gargoyle" pumpkin.
Once the collation was well underway, I fired up the DVD player and inflicted a slide show of our Vienna trip on the helpless captives (the horror!). They retaliated by producing Wierd Al Yankovick's new DVD/CD which was played. Three words:"Weasel Stomping Day". This cheerful and totally non-PC video is funny and gross in that bad-little-boy way Weird Al can carry off.
In the evening, Georgie and I went to the annual Lytheria Halloween party. I went as "V" from "V for Vendetta" and made a good entrance declaiming "Remember, remember the fifth of November!" (Scary thing, all I needed for this costume was the mask. Years ago, a Halloween party had actually fallen on Nov. 5, so I went as Guy Fawkes and still had the hat and wig. The boots were from my Ren Faire garb, and doesn't everyone have a long black cloak?) I wore the mask most of the night, and was surprised at how many of the other guests found it unsettling--.
Georgie, having had one of those ideas that would not go away, went as "Grendel's (Soccer) Mom." She made crude-looking skin shoes, and covered a simple dress with scraps of hide and fur, draping it with a gray-green shawl reminicent of lake weeds. The killer, of course, was her spiel: "Hi, I'm Grendel's mom. Grendel's a good boy. I think the anger management classes are working for him. Little Rolf's your boy isn't he? How's he doing? I'm glad the scazrring won't be too bad--." To that effect, delivered in that sincere, parent-teacher conference voice--. I must get her to write it down so I can post it. I didn't take pictures at the party, but pictures were taken, so I will post or link to some when I get them.