At two this afternoon, we finally lost power. It seemed like a fated thing, long overdue, after hearing the laments of still-power-less neighbors from the other half of the block for the past seven days. I was rocking Greta when suddenly there was silence—her white-noise machine just died. I heard a beep of something shutting down. From the kitchen, silence.
And so, tonight, we went trick-or-treating in pitch blackness. All we could see of the (few) trick-or-treaters who ventured to our block were flashlight beams; the only signal candy-offering houses could give was a candle or lantern in the window. It was truly eerie, the street absolutely dark; Lucia kept pointing out the stars in the sky. We left a bowl of candy on our porch while we were out, and our house was truly Halloween-y: yesterday we carved our two biggest pumpkins into jack-o’-lanterns, and their glowing, jagged-tooth faces looked spectacular against the fully dark night.
Lucia was very brave in these extraordinary trick-or-treating conditions. She donned her ghost costume excitedly, chose her plastic pumpkin as her candy bag, and off we went. (Greta also wore a ghost costume, but she stayed snug in the stroller.) I am very pleased with how my very first homemade Halloween costumes for the girls turned out—white-fleece ghost robes with a felt-letter BOO! sewn onto the front. Lucia glided with me to each house and gave a loud, enthusiastic “Trick or treat!!” to whatever neighbor opened the door. She was thrilled to get candy. “I have so many treats!!” she said each time. “My pumpkin is full!!” We went to about six houses before she declared herself tired and ready to go home. The whole way home, she kept saying, “Treats! I LOVE trick-or-treating! Hooray! Hooray!” (Unfortunately, the influence of a much-loved Halloween episode of Dora also came through, as she said several times, “We did it! We did it! Lo hicimos!”)
Lo and behold, our power went on shortly after we walked in the door. (Ours turned out to be a planned outage as repairs were going on; our unlucky neighbors’ houses are still dark and cold.) I had to bribe the girls back into their costumes for a few pictures. All in all, a very interesting suburban trick-or-treating experience. Lo hicimos!
This blog began in 2006, when I quit my job and sold all my furniture to move to Barcelona with Andrew, skipping town blissfully and dramatically; then we skipped town again, to California, and then, finally, back to Brooklyn. Now I'm in a rambling old house in the suburbs, with two babies and a husband and the suspicion that we won’t be skipping town again anytime soon—at least not the kind of skipping town that involves packing boxes and moving trucks.