Hell-o-ween

Oh, the humanity!

My attempts at participation in the uniquely American celebration of Halloween, wherein adult woman do their level best to dress as tartly as possible and adult men try to work through their body dysmorphia issues, have been pretty lame throughout my adult years. It's just never been one of those things I've been able to get behind and that's probably a good thing.

Tonight will be no different. There will be no dressing up. We're here in Connecticutistan this year, unlike last year where we were behind the Zion Curtain and I got to accompany my grandson on his search for treats. It will be a quiet night here in our cul-de-sac.

It was a very different story twenty eight years ago at a Halloween party in Provo, Utah. I shared the story behind "The Blisters" in this post from 2014. Read it if you must want a refresher on the details that led to this homage / parody to the Sister side of the #mormonmafia. I suspect Lou Dobbs would recoil in horror were the three Blisters to show up on his doorstep. That said, it would have been a crowning achievement for the #mormonmafia. Interwebs, where were you in 1988!?

Suffice to say, it will be a far quieter night here than it was all those years ago. I look at that picture and laugh and am grateful for really good times. At the same time, I fear that if the three of us recreated that picture today, I'd actually fill out that dress better.

I gotta go for a run.

Emerging

As the month of September drew to a close, I lamented that I was feeling devoid of thoughts about what I should continue to post here in the Den. I had no idea that this musing was going to turn into a month-long absence.

I'd like to say that I've spent this month off soul-searching and delving into the recesses of my mind for more content. Rest assured, I have not. I'd like to say I've taken some courses in the fine art of blogging to improve my minuscule piece of the Interweb. Rest assured, I have not.

Honestly, I've spent a lot of time lamenting the fact that now that The RM is home, I don't have that content to share. I loved those weekly updates. Loved them. Further, I've spent too much time comparing myself to other bloggers who are far better writers than I that have eloquently and passionately shared their perspectives on the upcoming U.S. presidential election / potential Civil War (thanks for that dog whistling Trump fascists). This whole thing of comparing myself to others has long been a crippling weakness for me (stories about my reacting badly to those comparisons is enough fodder for a year of blogging) and you'd think at the age of 50, I would have figured a way out of that trap. I haven't. How's that for progress?

Progress or not, it's time to emerge from my self-imposed time in the dark. It's time to come back into the light, as it were. I'm not changing the world here. This is not the place to find a cure for cancer. It's just a place where I write stuff. And it's time to write again.

One

When I stumbled into the morass of writers block, I didn't think I'd fall so deeply in. I've never been away this long! I'm still fighting my way out of it but I do have good reason to post today.

It's a big birthday for one of our Denizens. You only turn ONE once and our sweet baby Jane turns one today. We are so excited for this little girl. She is full of such promise, joy, and plain old good stuff. It slays me to watch the way she takes in every little thing her brother does. He's going to have his hands full with her. Seeing her personality develop reminds me of her mother. It reminds of just how blessed I am to be that little girl's grampa.

She's got an amazing life ahead of her. I'm lucky to be a part of it.

Happy birthday, Jane!