It's 10:55

... and I've just finished prep for the last of the "Three Big Things" I've had added to my plate for tomorrow. I seem to have morphed from rabies czarina to the go-to girl for all things red, sore and oozy (sorry for any unfortunate pics this brings to mind.) Wash your hands, people.

Good news:

The San Diego branch of the family seems fine. The fires came within 3 miles of their house, but seem to be headed the other way now.

Odd things I've overheard in the past few days:

From the radio, giving a great example of euphemistic writing:

On December 2, 1859, Mr. John Brown died during an important civic event being held in his honor, when the platform upon which he was standing gave way suddenly.

In the drug store, not really getting the irony:

Child, to man stocking shelves with tiny candy bars: Are you gonna celebrate the devil's birthday?

Same child, not perceiving that she had the man's full attention: Are you gonna celebrate the devil's birthday? Are you gonna celebrate the devil's birthday? Are you gonna celebrate the devil's birthday?

Man: Am I what?

Mother, to children who appeared to have consumed quantities of candy before this shopping excursion: Are WE gonna celebrate the devil's birthday?

Inquisitive child and her sibling, emphatically: Nuh-uh!

Mother: What ARE we gonna do on October 31st?

Children: We're gonna dress up and go to church!

Mother: That's right -- we're gonna celebrate Hallelujah night. We're not gonna do no devil stuff on Halloween; we're having a Hallelujah night party.

Kids: And we get candy!

Me, not aloud... So, your kids are dressing up and going somewhere to get candy. How is this NOT trick-or-treating? Looks like it's (1) more candy with (2) less exercise.

I wonder who should protest the Trunk-or-Treat or similar parties, in the same way that conservatives get so upset about Winter Festivals held in place of Christmas Pageants....hmmm.

Halloween Note:

A few years back, our previous Presby church used to hold Reformation day parties, marking the date when Martin Luther nailed his 95 theses (pronounce that word correctly, SLED man!) to the church door in Wittenberg. Izzy and I entered the costume contest, dressed in academic robes (a la Medieval clergy), and carrying between us a galvanized metal tub. Empty. When asked what we were supposed to be, we stated that we were the Reformation. Pointing to the tub, we'd say "See, no baby, no bathwater." We won the contest.