
Oh how I love Halloween! The one time a year you can dress up and pretend to be someone you aren't. You can be a superhero or a nurse or an animal or even president! I remember years of dressing up when I was young...the plastic/vinyl costumes we wore with our winter coats and the hard plastic masks with the elastic band that went around your head. These costumes came folded up in cardboard boxes with a see-through window so you could see the mask. I remember finding the costumes every year that were stored away and picking out who I was going to be that year. Putting on the mask with the eye holes that never quite lined up with your eyes and the tiny nose holes that really didn't let you breathe very well. But my favorite part was the little slit for your mouth...just the perfect size to stick your tongue through! Now that I think about it though, I wore costumes that were probably worn by my older sister or brother before me and I bet they did the same thing with their tongue...ummmm...ewww!
I need to rant about a few things, so you have been warned.

I remember my 15th birthday, and for me to remember that far back it must have been something special. Actually, I remember the gift my grandma gave me for that birthday...a charm bracelet. Back in those days charm bracelets were very popular and I desperately wanted one. My birthday was often spent visiting my grandma (my mom's mom) because with an August birthday and a grandma that lived in a big city it just made sense to visit and go birthday/school shopping while there.
Doesn't seem to matter where you go to church as an adult, because if it is a different church than where you went as a child it is just a church. The childhood church is your home church...no matter how many years you spend away from it. I am not a "Bible-thumper, shout it from the roof tops" kind of religious person, in fact I don't go to church on a regular basis, but that doesn't mean I don't have religion, and it doesn't mean the church doesn't mean something to me. (In my opinion, people should do a little less Bible-thumping and roof top shouting and just start living like Jesus did) I personally have been a member of three churches in my lifetime, but the one I consider "my" church first is the one where I grew up in, the one in Marathon. Sure the Albert City church is mine as well, the one where my children were baptized and where they were confirmed...maybe someday where one of them will be married, who knows? But the Marathon church is where I spent every single Sunday when I was growing up, every single one. The church with the big stained glass windows...

The church with the huge chandilier...I spent many Sundays hoping those chains were strong enough!
The church, where as a wife and new mother, I brought my family to visit.
January 21, 1989...Brian was two months old.
October 27, 2011