The day before Halloween has always been filled with excitement as final touches are made on costumes and goodie bags are readied to be passed out to the neighborhood children. The scene is much different these days since those giggling young ones have now moved away and have wee trick-or-treaters of their own. The neighborhood is quiet and serene, unaware that in other areas of town, door bells are ringing like mad as costumed children scurry from house to house hoping to stuff their paper bags with candy.
This, however, does not deter me from celebrating. I still decorate inside and out: pumpkins on the porch, spooky wreathes on doors, lit pumpkins in the foyer, and my jack-o-lantern pail, perhaps my favorite Halloween treasure, outside on the picnic table. Even the kitchen has its own jolly pumpkin.
Sweets, always a temptation for me, find their way into my cupboards. Of course! True, there are no trick-or-treaters to prepare for, but I do put together and deliver goodie bags to the handful of family youngsters still here in town. I have to buy the treats at the last minute because, due to a tremendous lack of will power on my part, the treats seem to, um, vanish.
For example, last night, just knowing that there were Tootsie Pops lurking in the kitchen, was more than I could stand; I ate four. Not too bad. Today I hit the cookies. I ate three. Again, not too bad. I mean, I didn't eat them ALL.
Now the treat bags are filled with their sweets and tied with orange raffia, ready for delivery on Halloween...tomorrow.
That means that I am alone with all these sugary delights for the entire evening.
Uh-oh.
I am now officially in a Christmas mood and able to put community celebrations on a back burner in order to concentrate on my own holiday . I have done all of the decorating and most of the shopping...whew...but the gift wrapping, the baking (what little I do), and the holiday cards are still not on my agenda. Maybe today?
As we completed our masterpieces, they were merrily hung on a nearby railing to await transfer to the final display area where, hopefully, future visitors to the gardens would be reaching for their checkbooks to take home one of the glorious wreaths, a bargain at $35.00.
The saddest task, however, has been picking all the unripened tomatoes...now covered with rain and not seeing red any time soon. There they sit on the kitchen counter in a forlornly green group, wishing that they could have had the opportunity to ripen blissfully on the vine as in years past.
It all begins with a going-soft collection of grape and cherry tomatoes that really need to be used and my urgent craving for a hit of pasta. Though I was aiming for 2 cup's worth of these colorful beauties, I didn't quite make it, but I am close.
The next dilemma is to determine what ingredients I have on hand to turn my tomato medley into a little piece of heaven. So, out to the garden I go to gather delicious smelling Italian parsley, basil, thyme and oregano. Olive oil, chicken stock, tomato paste, and a ton (note the technical term) of garlic next appear on the counter. 
