The rain is back. I woke to a dreary day. The high will be 55˚, a tolerable temperature despite the damp. The low, though, will be really low, 38˚. That is bundle up weather.

Last night I actually had kids, around 11 or 12 of them. I managed to give out all my Chuckles without having to open the chocolates bars. All the kids were in costume. It felt like a regular Halloween for just a while.

Today is a down day. I haven’t any lists. I have plenty of food, human, canine and feline, so I won’t need to get dressed today. I’ll stay in my comfy flannels with the designs of Santa on skis and Santa ice skating. They were the only cleans one left in the basket. I’m also wearing a Red Sox sweat shirt and my slippers with the holes. It is a good think I don’t get company.

I was pleased when I woke up early today then I remembered I had changed the clocks, fall back.

When I was a kid, Sunday was my least favorite day. I had to go to church so my morning started out badly, but if I went to church with my father, I got my favorite donut and a ride to and from. He’d also give me a dime or a quarter for the basket. I remember he’d get to my row, move the basket down, and when it was in front of me, he’d wiggle it, and I’d put in my dime.

Sunday dinner was the highlight of the week. The house always smelled great no matter the main course. My favorite has always been the roast beef. My mother always made mashed potatoes to go with the roast. She was a liberal user of butter, but I never complained. I liked to watch the butter melt on the mound of potatoes on my plate. It was sort of like a weird volcano. For veggies, I’d take the peas or the green beans, one of the few beans I’ll eat. Sometimes we had corn, either niblets or cream corn. In my whole adult life, the only time I’ve bought cream corn is when I’ve made one of my cornbread recipes. Something about the look of cream corn disturbs me.

I am the only one awake in this house. It’s pretty quiet and just a little bit lonely.

If I were to look up the definition of a fall day, I’d find a picture of today with its blue sky and warm sun. It is a perfect day for Halloween.

Ghosts and goblins wander on All Hallow’s Eve when the veil between the world of the living and the world of the dead allows the dead to come back to earth to walk among the living. Footsteps become ominous. Look behind you just in case. If you see a shadow, run.

My brother and I were out late every Halloween. I remember leaves covering the sidewalk and piled in the street gutters. The leaves were yellow. Footsteps echoed. We’d see lots of other kids as we wandered, but as the night got older, we’d see fewer and fewer. My brother and I always decided to keep trick or treating thinking fewer kids, more candy.

We had favorite houses stored in our memories from year to year. The red house on Main Street was my favorite. It had a porch with columns across. An old lady always answered the door with bowl in hand. She’d let us pick the candy bar we wanted, yup, a five cent bar. The black and white house near school also gave out 5 cent bars. From that house, we’d cut through the town hall playground to the fire station then we’d work our way down Main Street.

When all the outside house lights went dark, we’d start for home, our treat bags slung over our shoulders. I remember so clearly those walks home. They were quiet. Our footsteps were the only sounds. The night was dark. I remember the shine of the street lights reflected on the sidewalk. We were never afraid. We had candy.