To all, we hope you had a great Thanksgiving Day! This marks a special day for us, as it represents 1 full year of Pennsylvania citizenship for me. A year ago, I pulled in to Cranberry for the first time, mom and dad in the truck, and a truck-full of stuff. Our Thanksgiving dinner was the buffet at the local Marriott. Its hard to believe.
This year, we went with our friends to the Grand Concourse in Pittsburgh for the feast. The place is spectacular. It is a rennovated old train station-- huge vaulted barreled ceiling of stained glass, huge granite pillars holding it all up, etc. The menu was buffet style.
Go here (http://www.muer.com/) and click "Grand Concourse" at the top.
All in all, it was good. Not great, but good. The variety was a bit small, which was a disappointment, but the best part was leaving the mess to someone else.
So, in about 2 weeks, it will be Michelle and the rest of the family's one year anniversary in PA as well. What a year...
Saturday, November 28, 2009
Eating Crow
Its with great trepidation that I relay to you this next story. The reason is simple: it makes me look like an idiot. While I am normally far more comfortable making fun of other people behind their backs, its a bit harder when you have to make fun of yourself. Michelle is pushing me to publish this, though, on account that a little self-deprication is good for me.
Wednesday afternoon, while I was gearing up (or down, depending on how you look at it) for the holiday weekend, Michelle calls me at work. "Cade, the battery in the van is dead again, and I'm stuck in the Michael's parking lot, again."
This same thing happened a couple weeks ago. What is it with this parking lot? Is it cursed?
Anyhow, I decide to leave work a bit early to come to the rescue. My commute is about 45 minutes, but I soon arrive with the truck and jumper cables. My assumption at that point is that someone left lights on. It was cold and rainy, but I soon had the van running again.
Anyhow, I decide to leave work a bit early to come to the rescue. My commute is about 45 minutes, but I soon arrive with the truck and jumper cables. My assumption at that point is that someone left lights on. It was cold and rainy, but I soon had the van running again.
We leave for home, where I tell her to leave the van running in the driveway so the battery can get fully recharged. After 20 minutes or so, feeling it had enough time to charge, I turn off the van and try to restart it.
Dead.
Okay, maybe it didn't have enough time to recharge, I told myself. I jump it again and drive it around, leave it running a bit longer. After some time, I turn it off and try to restart it.
Dead.
I decide it must be a bad battery. This was my last thought, to be honest, because, first, the van is only 3 years old, and second, it is a TOYOTA... these things are supposed to run all the time, right?
Nonetheless, after busting up my knuckles, I take the battery out (it is dark by now... please keep this in mind) and run it to PepBoys where they test it for me. Surprise-- it is a bad battery... "Looks like you need to buy a new one... and what do ya know? We have them for sale right here for only $90!!" Without options, I decide to buy a new one. The PepBoy guy takes it to the counter for me, rings it up, and carries it out to my truck. I drive it home and install it in the van. It took a while because it was dark outside, and I was working with poor lighting.
Once installed, I try to start the van.
Dead.
I go bizzerk! "This stupid piece of crap! What is wrong with it!" I call others for opinions and I get every kind of possibilities from the new battery needing recharged (it could have been on the shelf for a while, losing its charge over time) to a bad alternator. Hoping for the better of the two possibilities, I hook up the battery charger and let it run for 3 or 4 hours. I did NOT want to hear that it might be the alternator... this was a sure way to blow through hundreds of dollars. But, the signs were good when I took the battery charger cables off, though-- the battery was sparking between it and the recharger cables as I took them off, and lights seem to come on in the van. So, I try to start it.
Dead. AHHH!!
I had had it at that point. I jump the new battery (anyone keeping count?), get the van running, and take off in it (it is midnight at this point). Leaving the van in 3rd gear, I blow through our neighborhood and I take it around the country in a big loop, keeping it revved up as much as possible during the trip. I could tell something was wrong with it because the lights still didn't seem too bright and it just felt "wierd".
Fuming mad, and after the 20 minute run around the racetrack, I pull it into the driveway, turn it off, and try to restart it.
Dead.
I stomp through the garage, grab my toolbox again, throw up the hood. I wasn't sure what I was going to do about it, but throwing tools just made me feel better. Off come the cables, out comes the pocketknife (perhaps the battery cables were corroded?), etc. I'm enraged and didn't care what was going to be "fixed", but I had to do something. I only hoped that my temper and ticked-off attitude didn't wake the neighbors. It was about 12:30AM.
I go to clean the battery posts-- positive side first. As I go to the negative side, I feel something odd... near the base of the post, I feel a small piece of plastic. It takes a few moments of contemplation, but soon the blood drained from my face.
It is the battery post cover. Yep, I had failed to take it off. In my own defense, the post cover was black. I saw the red one on the positive side and had removed it. I guess the negative post cover, which was black, was just not colored the right way for a mad ameteur mechanic working in the dark?
I take it off, and what do you know?! The van started up.
I feel like an idiot...
Saturday, November 21, 2009
Invasion of STAN & Sleep Deprivation
Michelle decided a couple weeks ago that our mattress was a piece of junk-- like sleeping on a sack of potatoes. I said it just reminded us of Idaho. But, she didn't "buy" it, and so began the quest for the perfect sleep system. We (or, rather, SHE) spent hours researching and looking and reading reviews. To be honest, not much helped, so we had to go out on a limb. She decided to buy a topper for the mattress rather than buy a brand new mattress. She orders this thing online and, within a few days, we have it "installed" on top of the mattress. Result: it didn't work. Next night, we decide to flip the mattress over and try the new sleep system there. Result: a little better, but not much.
Michelle hears that Costco has a foam topper that everyone raves about, and the next thing I know, we are in Costco picking one up. It gets installed on top of the first topper-- result: not too bad. Next, it gets moved under the first topper-- result: a little better.
Our first weekend came where we could really try out this new concoction of padding. No one had to get up at any certain time. No one had to get to bad at any certain time. The kids were all healthy-- no one was threatening to throw up in the middle of the night. We had Ambien in plentiful supply. We thought we had everything under control. What we did not anticipate was Chrissa.
Being an 8th grader means she had the "opportunity" of taking home one of those stupid annoying little fake babies, the purpose of which is to demonstrate how much of a pain it is to have a child and thus persuade them away from having one too early. This imitation thing reportedly costs $600 and comes equipped with heat sensors (to make sure the kid doesn't get too cold), sleep sensors (to make sure it periodically wakes up from sleep and starts to cry), sensors in its mouth that knows when the fake bottle is near, sensors in its butt to make sure new diapers are being applied, etc. It whines, cries and coos and responds to whatever the "mom" is trying to do to it to get it to shut up. If, for example, the baby cries and the mom tries to feed it-- but the fake baby is crying because it is too cold-- the baby will keep crying until its internal heat sensors rise. The data is downloaded to a computer when she returns to school, and she's graded for her motherly efforts based on the how well she responded to its "needs".
This is one area in school I hope she DOES fail. A passing grade would likely send the wrong message, in my humble opinion.
That 8th grade mother "opportunity" came this past Friday. Chrissa had the alternate choice of writing an essay on something, but she chose the fake annoying little baby route. I told her that the essay would only take a couple of hours work, whereas the baby was a weekend assignment. For reasons unknown to mankind, she still wanted to be the mom.
Our torture began at 10PM on Friday night. Michelle and I had all the kids asleep-- including the stupid annoying fake little baby. We go off to bed to see if the mattress would keep us comfortably asleep.
At roughly midnight, stupid annoying baby (whom I will call "STAN"-- STupid & ANnoying) begins to cry. Michelle and I wake up thinking its Amberlee. Nope… we realize it is STAN. The light in Chrissa's room comes on and, in 20 minutes or so, STAN falls back to "sleep".
Next-- 2AM: STAN wakes up and cries again. This time, however, Chrissa does not. STAN cries for 30 minutes, at which point Michelle goes in and threatens both STAN and Chrissa with sleeping in the garage if they don't take care of things. STAN goes to sleep.
Roughly 5AM: STAN again wakes up, Chrissa doesn't. Michelle and I are tired to the point of not caring, but STAN doesn't slow down. Instead, STAN's cries get louder and more annoying, and he/she manages to wake up everyone in the house (except Chrissa)-- Amberlee begins to cry, followed by Preston, then Ethan.
Chrissa snoozes right through it. Her response the next morning: "Sorry Dad, I'm just a heavy sleeper!"
For a dime, I would have thrown STAN out of the second story window that night, but the only reason I held back was the possibility that STAN would cry in the flowerbed or back lawn and, upon hearing the STAN crying at 2AM, the neighbors would call the police on us-- especially if said neighbor actually saw STAN being thrown out, crying as it plummeted to the ground, and me standing in the window with a smile on my face.
The next morning arrived early, and I set the rules down for STAN and Chrissa: either keep STAN quiet or they both sleep in the basement. I didn't remember signing up for STAN-- Chrissa needed to learn the lesson, not the rest of the family.
The next night was a little better… STAN must have had a sock stuffed in his/her mouth because all we heard was an instance or two of muffled cries through the night.
Back to the mattress. After missing 2 good nights (thanks to STAN and Chrissa) and the opportunity to see if the concoction would work, Sunday night comes around-- our last chance before the week. STAN had been shut off (his tour of duty was only to last 2 nights, which is good because he/she wouldn't have lasted a 3rd) and the kids were put to bed early. Again, Michelle and I think we have all things accounted for, so we go to bed.
At midnight, in comes Preston. For the next 2 hours, he cries and rolls and tosses and turns in our bedroom with a stomach ache. In the end, and at roughly 3AM, Preston pukes all over us, him, and our mattress setup.
Who needs to sleep anyway?
Michelle hears that Costco has a foam topper that everyone raves about, and the next thing I know, we are in Costco picking one up. It gets installed on top of the first topper-- result: not too bad. Next, it gets moved under the first topper-- result: a little better.
Our first weekend came where we could really try out this new concoction of padding. No one had to get up at any certain time. No one had to get to bad at any certain time. The kids were all healthy-- no one was threatening to throw up in the middle of the night. We had Ambien in plentiful supply. We thought we had everything under control. What we did not anticipate was Chrissa.
Being an 8th grader means she had the "opportunity" of taking home one of those stupid annoying little fake babies, the purpose of which is to demonstrate how much of a pain it is to have a child and thus persuade them away from having one too early. This imitation thing reportedly costs $600 and comes equipped with heat sensors (to make sure the kid doesn't get too cold), sleep sensors (to make sure it periodically wakes up from sleep and starts to cry), sensors in its mouth that knows when the fake bottle is near, sensors in its butt to make sure new diapers are being applied, etc. It whines, cries and coos and responds to whatever the "mom" is trying to do to it to get it to shut up. If, for example, the baby cries and the mom tries to feed it-- but the fake baby is crying because it is too cold-- the baby will keep crying until its internal heat sensors rise. The data is downloaded to a computer when she returns to school, and she's graded for her motherly efforts based on the how well she responded to its "needs".
This is one area in school I hope she DOES fail. A passing grade would likely send the wrong message, in my humble opinion.
That 8th grade mother "opportunity" came this past Friday. Chrissa had the alternate choice of writing an essay on something, but she chose the fake annoying little baby route. I told her that the essay would only take a couple of hours work, whereas the baby was a weekend assignment. For reasons unknown to mankind, she still wanted to be the mom.
Our torture began at 10PM on Friday night. Michelle and I had all the kids asleep-- including the stupid annoying fake little baby. We go off to bed to see if the mattress would keep us comfortably asleep.
At roughly midnight, stupid annoying baby (whom I will call "STAN"-- STupid & ANnoying) begins to cry. Michelle and I wake up thinking its Amberlee. Nope… we realize it is STAN. The light in Chrissa's room comes on and, in 20 minutes or so, STAN falls back to "sleep".
Next-- 2AM: STAN wakes up and cries again. This time, however, Chrissa does not. STAN cries for 30 minutes, at which point Michelle goes in and threatens both STAN and Chrissa with sleeping in the garage if they don't take care of things. STAN goes to sleep.
Roughly 5AM: STAN again wakes up, Chrissa doesn't. Michelle and I are tired to the point of not caring, but STAN doesn't slow down. Instead, STAN's cries get louder and more annoying, and he/she manages to wake up everyone in the house (except Chrissa)-- Amberlee begins to cry, followed by Preston, then Ethan.
Chrissa snoozes right through it. Her response the next morning: "Sorry Dad, I'm just a heavy sleeper!"
For a dime, I would have thrown STAN out of the second story window that night, but the only reason I held back was the possibility that STAN would cry in the flowerbed or back lawn and, upon hearing the STAN crying at 2AM, the neighbors would call the police on us-- especially if said neighbor actually saw STAN being thrown out, crying as it plummeted to the ground, and me standing in the window with a smile on my face.
The next morning arrived early, and I set the rules down for STAN and Chrissa: either keep STAN quiet or they both sleep in the basement. I didn't remember signing up for STAN-- Chrissa needed to learn the lesson, not the rest of the family.
The next night was a little better… STAN must have had a sock stuffed in his/her mouth because all we heard was an instance or two of muffled cries through the night.
Back to the mattress. After missing 2 good nights (thanks to STAN and Chrissa) and the opportunity to see if the concoction would work, Sunday night comes around-- our last chance before the week. STAN had been shut off (his tour of duty was only to last 2 nights, which is good because he/she wouldn't have lasted a 3rd) and the kids were put to bed early. Again, Michelle and I think we have all things accounted for, so we go to bed.
At midnight, in comes Preston. For the next 2 hours, he cries and rolls and tosses and turns in our bedroom with a stomach ache. In the end, and at roughly 3AM, Preston pukes all over us, him, and our mattress setup.
Who needs to sleep anyway?
Tuesday, November 17, 2009
Pig Days of Summer
Swine flu has come and gone. But, it lefts its mark on us. Total casualties: 4 (all at the same time). The only ones NOT to get it were me and Michelle. Michelle hates pork, so I can see why she didn't get swine flu. As for me, I have no idea how I avoided it. Maybe I'm too much like a pig for it to have any affect.
Here are our kids, all sick at the same time...
Saturday, November 14, 2009
Palmyra
We were fortunate to have this fall's ward temple trip in Palmyra NY. We'd always wanted to go there, so this opportunity was great in more ways than one.
And, let me just add that, for the most part, the entire weekend went without a hitch. I think this is a Jensen FIRST. We left on time, arrived on time, had no breakdowns (meaning both the car and the kids, and Michelle and I for that matter), were not kicked out of any restaurants, etc.
Well, okay, so it was not entirely without comment.
First stop was Hill Cumorah. We nearly arrived at that same moment as our good friends, the Richards, who were coming from the opposite direction, so we likely ruined their anticipated spiritual experience by tagging along.
You'll see a general lack of Chrissa in these photos because she was petrified of the bees that were still out and spent the minutes we had on top of the hill running from them in the opposite direction.
Toward the end, Preston disappeared. We found him on the opposite side of the Moroni statue, peaking around the corner. We were certain at that point that he was desecrating the statue in some respect-- either through #1 or #2, if you catch my drift. Bear in mind that the kid is still adamantly against any attempt at potty training, so we just hoped at that point that his pull-ups would contain it all. I have to admit, though, that nothing would be funnier than to receive an excommunication notice from the church because they caught our son emptying his bladder on the statue on Hill Cumorah, and we did nothing to stop it.
Yet, we knew better than to try to catch him. The closer we try to get to him during these times of panic, the further he runs in the opposite direction. So we just let it happen, realizing it would be easier to ask for forgiveness than permission.
Luckily, as he came around the corner, we were pleased to see that the pull-up did, in fact, "contain" him. It was a close one-- evidence of the event were present on his backside. We did make him do the "march of shame" back to the parking lot before he was changed. And, he now participates in the unpleasant ritual. This participation in the cleanup is our latest ditch effort to convince him that he's too old to be in pull-ups.Other stops we made: the Smith Farm. Our first time there was rather late in the evening, so we skipped the tours being offered and went right for the Smith house. Finding no one there, we went inside and made ourselves at home. Wrong, we understood, when we ran into the tour guide on our exit. But for 5 or 10 minutes, we had the home to ourselves.
The sacred grove, EB Grandin print shop, Martin Harris farm, Erie Canal, and, of course, the temple rounded out our trip. Great weather, great friends.
See more photos in the slideshow, right side of the blog.
Sunday, November 1, 2009
New Camera
If you'd had the chance to read my previous blogs, you'd be aware of the episode of our camera coming up missing during our trip to Hershey a month or so ago. I won't retell this story, but suffice it to say that the camera came up missing after Michelle said she wanted a new one and I said the old one would work fine. No one claims responsibility for the camera disappearing, but I'm suspicious on my wife's alibi.
Anyway, we bought a new Panasonic Lumix. Its an awesome camera. Relatively cheap, though.
Being fall here in PA, we went around finding great landscapes and took pictures. Michelle's intent was to take family photos and use the trees we were taking pictures of to Photoshop them behind us. Chances were good that we would not be ready before the colors of fall began to fade, so we wanted to make sure we at least captured the colors while we had the chance.
Last Sunday, we went out and took pictures of us. Only after this did we realize that, maybe, we should have taken the time to read the owner's manual first! Our photos were washed out, etc, and Michelle learned that the flash had to be turned on as its factory setting was "off". Oops.
So, since Photoshop is no longer an option, and we do not plan to do anything more with the photos than keep them (no printing or displaying in our home), I'll just have to post some of them here. Just image the fall trees that I had taken and displayed a week ago being pasted into the background of these photos, and hopefully you will be able to see what we had in mind.
See the photo slideshow, on right. Click on them to see them in bigger size.
Anyway, we bought a new Panasonic Lumix. Its an awesome camera. Relatively cheap, though.
Being fall here in PA, we went around finding great landscapes and took pictures. Michelle's intent was to take family photos and use the trees we were taking pictures of to Photoshop them behind us. Chances were good that we would not be ready before the colors of fall began to fade, so we wanted to make sure we at least captured the colors while we had the chance.
Last Sunday, we went out and took pictures of us. Only after this did we realize that, maybe, we should have taken the time to read the owner's manual first! Our photos were washed out, etc, and Michelle learned that the flash had to be turned on as its factory setting was "off". Oops.
So, since Photoshop is no longer an option, and we do not plan to do anything more with the photos than keep them (no printing or displaying in our home), I'll just have to post some of them here. Just image the fall trees that I had taken and displayed a week ago being pasted into the background of these photos, and hopefully you will be able to see what we had in mind.
See the photo slideshow, on right. Click on them to see them in bigger size.
Home Improvement
Michelle is going to kill me for re-hashing this story, but I think it has some funny merit to it-- I just have to tell people.
A few weeks ago, she bought a front door. Not sure how it was going to be replaced, but she bought a door from a Lowe's in Butler, PA-- about a half-hour drive northeast of here.
Repeatedly, she had asked me to take the drive up there after work to pick it up. I kept blowing it off.
Yesterday (Halloween), she decided that we could delay it no longer. At roughly noon, we loaded up Preston into the truck and off we went.
We arrive in Butler and drive past a previously unknown (to us) farmer's market. We HAD to stop. PA farmer's markets are typically overrun with produce of every kind, and since Michelle and I love to eat, we couldn't pass this one up without stopping. Our biggest weakness are honey crisp apples, our favorites. In Idaho, Honey crisp apples usually ran about $3 per pound and are on sale (it seems) for 2 hours out of the year. In PA, they can be found just-picked for $1 per pound, and there are so many of them that you get sick of the thought after a while. Sure enough, this place had HUGE crates of every kind of apple you could imagine, one such crate being loaded with honey crisps. We got a bunch, and had some pressed into cider as well.
Then we loaded up on fresh meat, vegetables, Amish jams, fresh breads, etc. Total cost: $120.
We returned to the truck after an hour in the market and continued in our journey to Lowe's for the door.
Upon arrival, we look around the store and pick up a few odd things we were lacking at home, found a deal on a cordless drill and circular saw combo (which we needed), got a can of paint for the garage, and proceeded to check out. Cost: $160, and another hour was gone.
Soon, we were back in the truck and nearly ready to head back for home when we realized that the DOOR was still in the store.
Back in we went. Michelle got someone to pull the door that she had already purchased weeks ago, and proceeded again to the checkout.
But, just before she was going to leave (I was in the truck waiting at the exit doors), she noticed that the door was wrong-- it had the hinges on the wrong side. She went back to see if there was another door, same style, with opposite hinges. Nope.
In short, we left for Butler with the intention of getting the door that had been purchased and waiting pickup for nearly 2 weeks. Should have taken only an hour. Instead, we came home with: pickles, hamburger, breads, jams, various vegetables, stuffed chicken, stuffed pork chops, honey crisp apples, cider, a new cordless drill and circular saw, and paint. No door.
And, instead of taking only an hour, it took us 4.
How's that for efficiency?
A few weeks ago, she bought a front door. Not sure how it was going to be replaced, but she bought a door from a Lowe's in Butler, PA-- about a half-hour drive northeast of here.
Repeatedly, she had asked me to take the drive up there after work to pick it up. I kept blowing it off.
Yesterday (Halloween), she decided that we could delay it no longer. At roughly noon, we loaded up Preston into the truck and off we went.
We arrive in Butler and drive past a previously unknown (to us) farmer's market. We HAD to stop. PA farmer's markets are typically overrun with produce of every kind, and since Michelle and I love to eat, we couldn't pass this one up without stopping. Our biggest weakness are honey crisp apples, our favorites. In Idaho, Honey crisp apples usually ran about $3 per pound and are on sale (it seems) for 2 hours out of the year. In PA, they can be found just-picked for $1 per pound, and there are so many of them that you get sick of the thought after a while. Sure enough, this place had HUGE crates of every kind of apple you could imagine, one such crate being loaded with honey crisps. We got a bunch, and had some pressed into cider as well.
Then we loaded up on fresh meat, vegetables, Amish jams, fresh breads, etc. Total cost: $120.
We returned to the truck after an hour in the market and continued in our journey to Lowe's for the door.
Upon arrival, we look around the store and pick up a few odd things we were lacking at home, found a deal on a cordless drill and circular saw combo (which we needed), got a can of paint for the garage, and proceeded to check out. Cost: $160, and another hour was gone.
Soon, we were back in the truck and nearly ready to head back for home when we realized that the DOOR was still in the store.
Back in we went. Michelle got someone to pull the door that she had already purchased weeks ago, and proceeded again to the checkout.
But, just before she was going to leave (I was in the truck waiting at the exit doors), she noticed that the door was wrong-- it had the hinges on the wrong side. She went back to see if there was another door, same style, with opposite hinges. Nope.
In short, we left for Butler with the intention of getting the door that had been purchased and waiting pickup for nearly 2 weeks. Should have taken only an hour. Instead, we came home with: pickles, hamburger, breads, jams, various vegetables, stuffed chicken, stuffed pork chops, honey crisp apples, cider, a new cordless drill and circular saw, and paint. No door.
And, instead of taking only an hour, it took us 4.
How's that for efficiency?
(Cr)Happy Halloween
For multiple reasons, Halloween this year was a joke.
Then, out came the trick-or-treaters. THOUSANDS of them (it seemed). Our sidewalks were packed to the point that anyone could have mistaken it for New York City on a typical work day.
Now, for 133 Hazelwood Drive-- our house. In the middle of this spook alley sat our little home, the only decorations being a few fake pumpkins mixed in with a few real pumpkins and some Indian corn that the local deer had half-eaten. By comparison, just down the road from us is a neighbor who had turned his front yard into a grotesque display of The Grim Reaper running over a man with a snowblower, his simulated guts being thrown out of the shoot and onto passers-by. Strobe lights and Halloween music played in the background. Our other neighbor dressed up like Tiger Woods and his caddy, pretending to be playing in the Master's on the front lawn (this meant they had to hush the people walking by while "Tiger" made the shot or the putt) while kids came up to their table for candy. No, this "Tiger" was not already a Black man... she (yes, she) had to donn a lot of make-up of the appropriate color to make it work.
And, despite it being a semi-rainy day, the temperatures were nice. No snow.
In short, we blew it. I wouldn't be surprised to see a neighborhood petition being circulated to evict us on account of us being a Halloween embarrassment.
First, EVERY child we have (that is 4) came down with the flu this past week. Ethan got it first, then Preston, Amberlee, and Chrissa. For about 2 days, Michelle played nurse to 4 sick kids at the same time-- but we've had at least one sick kid for nearly 10 days now.
As Halloween approached, there was real concern that they'd be too sick to do anything. It appeared the only scary thing that would be going on at our house was whether Michelle and/or I would be cleaning up diarrhea or puke, and who/how much of it we'd be required to manage.
But, about 15 minutes before the trick-or-treater mad-rush, out came our kids in costumes that Michelle flung together, and we joined the throngs of kids begging the neighbors for candy.
I would love to say that it went without a hitch, but I'd be lying. Ethan continued to cough. Preston was a bit sluggish as we went from house to house. We were only able to hit about 25% of the houses that, under normal circumstances, we'd likely visit, but considering what these poor kids had gone through, I suppose I should call it a success.
Second, it was our first Halloween in Cranberry, PA. All years prior to this had been spent in Idaho, and Idaho Halloweens are far different than Pennsylvania Halloweens. Thus, we were embarrassingly ill-prepared (no pun intended) for what we were about to face.
Idaho Halloweens are usually spent going house to house in the car due to either the snowfall or the freezing temperatures-- or (usually) both. Plus, you needed that time in the car to thaw out the kids and get them back to within +/-10 degrees of normal body temperatures before they were thrust back out in the cold at the next house.
Furthermore, all costumes had to be sized big enough to allow the addition of winter coats and/or gloves, scarfs, and boots. Looking back, I now realize that the BEST Halloween costume for Idahoans should be an Eskimo... you are able to dress up and stay warm at the same time.
So, as we entered this holiday season, we were already used to the Idaho-way of having Halloween and didn't take the time to think that the Idaho-way is not the norm. Big mistake.
Throughout the week or two prior to Halloween, we noticed the preparations our neighbors were making-- decorations (some very elaborate), strobe lighting, full-sized Grim Reapers in the yard, etc. We thought-- maybe this is the extent of it-- surely people cannot be THAT into Halloween.
About 2 hours prior to the event, neighbors starting bringing out tables, chairs, and more "stuff" to scare people with. The table/chairs allowed the dressed-up homeowners to sit outside with their candy to hand out to kids. Music from half of the neighborhood started to play. All decorations were turned on. Hazelwood Drive, where we live, became a full-sized spook alley.
Then, out came the trick-or-treaters. THOUSANDS of them (it seemed). Our sidewalks were packed to the point that anyone could have mistaken it for New York City on a typical work day.
Now, for 133 Hazelwood Drive-- our house. In the middle of this spook alley sat our little home, the only decorations being a few fake pumpkins mixed in with a few real pumpkins and some Indian corn that the local deer had half-eaten. By comparison, just down the road from us is a neighbor who had turned his front yard into a grotesque display of The Grim Reaper running over a man with a snowblower, his simulated guts being thrown out of the shoot and onto passers-by. Strobe lights and Halloween music played in the background. Our other neighbor dressed up like Tiger Woods and his caddy, pretending to be playing in the Master's on the front lawn (this meant they had to hush the people walking by while "Tiger" made the shot or the putt) while kids came up to their table for candy. No, this "Tiger" was not already a Black man... she (yes, she) had to donn a lot of make-up of the appropriate color to make it work.
And, despite it being a semi-rainy day, the temperatures were nice. No snow.
In short, we blew it. I wouldn't be surprised to see a neighborhood petition being circulated to evict us on account of us being a Halloween embarrassment.
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