Some of the Things I've Been Doing Instead of Reading Descartes

1.  Shopping for groceries with my true love.

This conversation took place in CVS approximately a month ago, give or take a week.

ME:  You know, this year I'm thinking of giving out some cute, cheap little toys instead of candy.  Kazoos or something.  I always liked stuff like that every bit as much as candy, and I always feel guilty giving out candy.

HIM (noncomittally):  Hmm.

ME:  But the thing is, we didn't get any trick-or-treaters last year, not one.  In fact, the whole time we've been living here we've only ever had one set of trick-or-treaters.  If we don't get any again this year, then we'll be stuck with a bag of little toys.

HIM:  Oh, just get candy.

ME:  What kind of candy?  Since we're probably going to end up eating it ourselves, and since I probably won't be able to eat any at all, we should get something you like.

HIM:  I like Reese's.

ME:  Okay, great, then we'll get Reese's.  Should we go ahead and get them now?  We could wait 'til closer to the day, but then what happens is we forget until Hallowe'en night, and then we end up rushing to the store and by the time we get there they've taken all the Hallowe'en stuff away and are putting out the Christmas stuff already.

HIM:  Let's get it now.

ME:  Okay.  (crosses to display and grabs bag)

(a few minutes later, at the checkstand)

CASHIER:  If you buy two, you can get the second one free.

ME:  Oh, I don't really think we should do that.  We never get that many trick-or-treaters, and we'll only end up eating them ourselves.

HIM:  (goes back to display and grabs second bag)

(a few hours later, at home)

HIM:  So, where did you put the Reese's?

ME:  I'm not going to tell you.  Those are for the trick-or-treaters, unless none show up.  We don't need to be eating them now.

HIM:  I really want a Reese's.

ME:  Well, I hid them in plain sight.  I'm not going to tell you where, but if you find them on your own, well, there's nothing I can do about it, is there?

This is where I hid them in plain sight.  See the bag on top of the fridge?

This is what the inside of that bag looked like well before yesterday:

We had no trick-or-treaters this year.

2.  Studying forensic science.

This may be why we had no trick-or-treaters.  (Click to enlarge.)

I bought these gel-cling decorations at the local grocery store.  I was particularly delighted with the bloody hand prints.

Problem is, kids today are so sophisticated.  Even though I have by now surely watched every single episode of CSI: Crime Scene Investigation, a fair number of CSI NYs and CSI Miamis, and long before either of those the entire first and second season of Waking the Dead, I don't seem to have gotten the blood spatter right.

Look at that top photo again.  I was flummoxed by the dripping slash splashes, had no clue where to put them.  The dried blood also confused me.  I just don't have enough information to confidently choose whether those should be closer or further from the center of the splatter, or how far apart any of it should be in the first place.

Obviously, I need to watch more TV, 'cause I'm just not getting it.  And on top of all that, I had to limit how many decals I put on the lower pane of the storm door, within reach of the kitty.

Clearly, the local children were not impressed.  Fortunately, we had already eaten all the candy anyway, so not really a problem from our perspective.

3.  Spending time with animals.

(Some of my readers, and you know who you are, are rodentophobes and may wish to skip this section even though I assure you no rodents real or imaginary will pop out of your monitor from this website and attack you unless you let them.  You've been warned.)

At the West Concord 5 & 10, scene of so many pleasant shopping experiences, I recently discovered that no, I did not have everything I needed for Hallowe'en, or indeed for any time of year.  Because any season is the right season for a Jumbo Rubber Rat.

Especially a Jumbo Rubber Rat that squeaks.

I know it is a Jumbo Rubber Rat because the label on its tail says so.

The label also says other things, for example, that this Jumbo Rubber Rat was made in China and cost less than four bucks.

I do not understand everything on that label.  I do not know whether those round symbols in the upper righthand corner are meant to convey recyclability or that this Jumbo Rubber Rat is himself made of recycled materials.

Either way, I'm glad I got the Jumbo size.  I don't think Sam could give a rat's ass.  Or a cat's ass.  Either one, actually.

4.  Learning to embrace my inner demon.

A couple of weeks ago, it was a brilliantly sunny autumn Sunday, and since I wasn't passed out or throwing up, my true love and I decided to go to Harvard Square to explore the annual Oktoberfest celebration.

We didn't get very far because in my now once more oversized suction socket, neither crowds nor cobblestones turned out to be that much fun to hobble around among at a pace slower than a desert tortoise's.  However, we did have some fun.  My true love enjoyed some Indian food, and he bought me a present.

Why, yes, that is a fiendishly lovely (though cheap and mass-produced, of course) red and black mask from Italy, where they know how to make such things.

No, I won't show you what I look like wearing it.  That could be too revealing.

5.  Figuring out how it all fits together.

But let's take a look at the other arm of my perfect red leather chair.  It's been awhile since you've seen it, and work has progressed.

Perhaps you can guess who the artist sculpting away at it might be.

Perhaps we should call CSI Concord, MA.

Comments

[Ron Sullivan]

Thank you so much for the mask, Hon. In return, I've bought a rat to rub your jumbo!"

Ouch, that chair. I hope Matt never develops such a habit. Knock wood. I dunno; he just might have had a new career as an antimacassar if he'd started that on out definitely-NOT-perfect red leather.

[Sara]

Actually, clawing the perfect red chair is not nearly as bad as peeing on every single vertical surface within ass-shot, upholstered or not. Seriously. And this and the rugs (none of which are heirlooms) are all he really goes after. And it's not as though we were expecting to turn around and sell it for a profit, you know? We try to stop him when we catch him, but I refuse to get myself into knots over what I consider to be an ultimately trivial annoyance.

As for the mask, my true love bought it for me because I openly coveted it. Nice when that happens. :)

[laurie]

I think this is one of the things I truly love about your blog: That I can tell that you really did spend a lot of time contemplating how to get the blood splatter exactly right.
And that you say things like "as bad as peeing on every single vertical surface within ass-shot."

[Sara]

hahaha

Well, of COURSE I tried to make it realistic! I liked my first results so little I even took everything off and did it all over again. I sought input from my true love standing at the top of the stairs, since he has watched at least as much crappy TV as I have, and he gave me some useful ideas, but we ultimately disagreed about the placement of the handprints. He felt they should be close to the approximate height of the victim's face, as though s/he had fallen forward onto the door immediately upon being slashed, but I felt there had to be evidence of enough time having passed between the injury and the desperate reaching for the door for the hands to actually have gotten bloody. I felt it should look as if the person had either tried to staunch the flow of his or her own blood and then fallen against the door, or as though the person had tried to drag him- or herself up from the floor, perhaps even desperately reaching for the door handle, after falling in a pool of blood. So I really think the handprints were all right. It's the spray that fails.

Oh, well, there's always next year. ;)