Old and Crotchety

And, just a few years away from hiding in the bushes with a garden hose on Halloween.

I use to love Halloween. I would give a nod to dressing up (in ways that would be acceptable in the business world). I spent several nights in a row carefully carving out elaborate jack-o-lanterns. I invested in bags and bags and bags of candy . . . the good stuff too.

But, 8 years ago, just a week before Halloween, some asshat broke into my home. Beyond the many things of great and small value taken, he also destroyed my desire to be generous on Halloween.

Now, I don't like people touching my house. I don't like people I don't know wandering my neighborhood. I resent that my neighbor gives out candy, because he is the only person on the street giving it out and if he'd stop, no one would even bother to cruise our street. (I live in the sort of neighborhood that people truck loads and loads of little grimy, freeloader hands into.)

I am the grinch of Halloween now.