French la Vie

Happy Halloween!

Halloween is not the same in France. I am use to it. The differences between France and the USA are becoming harder to notice, not because they aren't there, but because France is becoming more familiar than what I use to call home. After twenty six years of living in France I am nearly at the half way point. I moved to France when I was twenty nine. Since I have an accent when I speak French, the French often ask me, "Where are you from?" It is becoming harder to say, "California", when I feel each foot planted in a different land.

 

Above is a Halloween photo of when I was two. My Mother loved to make Halloween costumes. I am so glad she put an undershirt underneath my bikini top.

 

 

Here I am a year later: Trick or Treat! I am dressed as an Indian maiden. My mother made my costume from a burlap sack. I grew up on a farm (see the cows in the background,)  feed sacks made great Halloween costumes.

Note my little hand sticking out, I am not posing. I remember this moment like yesterday… That costume itched! I stuck out my arm because my Mother told me not to scratch, but that costume was rough! Dig the moccasins?

 

I put on Halloween parties when my children were little. But since it wasn't French it was hard to grow excitement when the others looked at me oddly about bobbing for apples and eating pumpkin pie, or saying: Trick or Treat.

 

This is me at three years of age, the last Halloween photo of me and my Mother's Homemade Halloween costumes… I bet you thought you were going to see me in costumes from the age of two to fifty some… sorry gouls. Though I wish I had a photo to share of when I was dressed as a lady bug at twenty-eight. Or a photo of myself dressed like a mermaid and out of gas on the freeway at midnight, or the time my Mother dressed me up as Marilyn Monroe when I was around five years old.

My Mother made matching Mr. and Mrs. Ghost costumes for me and my brother. My brother Marty is younger than me, my Mother wanted me to dress as the Mr. Ghost since I was taller. I threw a fit and refused to be the guy at Halloween. My Mother was disappointed but agreed.

I love the eyebrows, don't you?

Around four o'clock this afternoon, a sprinkling of children start coming by the house, when I open the door rarely are they in costume, and instead chanting, "Trick or Treat!" they say, "Bonbons!"

Last year I wanted to say, "No costume no bonbons". I didn't because I did not want to be thought of as the witch. 

 

What will you do this evening?