Monday, October 31, 2011

The Witching Hour Is at Hand!

Halloween photos of Carli are bewitching.

But Bryce just likes to clown around a bit on the big day.

Hope your Halloween is both FuN and MaGiCaL!


photos by tendershootz

Saturday, October 29, 2011


Jenny's really gone batty with her Saturday Centus this time around. The only prompt is a picture (of sorts), and we've got 25 words to make sense of it. She calls it "Study in Black." I call it cruel!



She jerked awake.
Absorbed the night.
Pitch black.
So dark it threatened her.
Fumbled for daylight.
Flipped a switch.
her blindness.


Bookie's comment made me want to add this note: The poem can be taken literally or figuratively. Blindness is one of my deepest fears. Both kinds.

Friday, October 28, 2011

A Proud Grandma

photo by Heather at tendershootz

These three grandkids of mine are full of fun, and I love each one dearly. Anyone who knows them would agree that they are energy, excitement, and enthusiasm personified. Incorporated, too. Yep, the electrifying presence of Jeremiah, Carli, and Bryce charges up (and drains!) this old grandma's batteries like nothing else in the world.

What's more, they make me laugh. Out loud and often. Every single one of them owns and is learning to wield a first-rate sense of humor, a good thing because it appears to be a requirement survival tool in this family. Their father, in fact, is certifiably crazy hilarious, a trait that got him out of more than a few scrapes in his younger years. (Got him into a few, as well.) He is also a big tease, as are these wonderful kids. Their mother, of course, is a saint for putting up with all of their shenanigans...and even documenting them via many of the wonderful photographs I share with you.

My three youngest children haven't tested the waters of parenthood yet. When they do, I will be every bit as dotty about their kids. And why not? I certainly can't control it, which is fine because I don't even want to. After all, uncontrollable (unconditional) love is what being a grandma's all about, right?


Thursday, October 27, 2011

The Terror of All Hallow's Eve

©2011 Susan Noyes Anderson

It was All Hallow’s Eve, and poor Dexter was sick.
“Son, you’ll have to stay home,” Mother said.
Though he begged and he pleaded, her mind wouldn’t change.
Just the thought of it filled him with dread.

Halloween with no candy! No tricks and no treats!
It was ghastly. It couldn’t be true.
He looked so upset that his mom said, “Don’t fret.
I’ve got plans…really BIG plans…for you.”

“My job will be yours this year. Answer the door,
hand out candy, and have lots of fun.
You can still wear your costume and frighten your friends.
I’ll go upstairs and get some work done.”

Dexter liked this idea. A Halloween grin
split his face like a bright jack-o-lantern.
He would scare all those guys and girls right to the moon.
(Maybe he’d even shock ‘em to Saturn!)

He donned his Grim Reaper robe (yikes!) and prepared
to be freaky as freaky could be.
“Thumbs up,” said his mom. “You are creeping me out!
Take these treats. Don’t give out more than 3.”

She walked up the staircase, and Dexter sat down
to await the first knock on his door.
When it came, he was ready. He jumped up at once,
moaning loudly as he crossed the floor.

Dex creaked the door open and howled eerily
at a horrid green witch with a mole.
She grabbed at the candy, took more than her share,
cackled twice, then let go of mom’s bowl.

He touched something slimy and cold. Looking down,
on his hand was a gooey, green gel.
It turned into spiders that ran up his arm
when he let out a squeak and a yell.

Her eyes glittered black, then the witch Dex was meant
to be scaring took hold of her broom.
It was twitching! He slammed the door shut in her face
and ran up 13 stairs to his room.

He wanted his mommy, but Dexter was 8.
Things were different than when he was small.
He’d overreacted. That witch was some kid
with a really great costume; that’s all.

The bell rang again, and he walked down the stairs
feeling silly and far more prepared.
This time would be different. Dexter, the Grim Reaper,
would be the Scar-ER, not the Scared.

He swung the door open. Count Dracula! Lame.
He could shock that kid out of his shoes.
“I want you,” Dexter hissed, but the Count only smiled.
“Zat is perfect, for I vant you, too.”

The air seemed to change; his dark eyes glowed deep red
as he raised his long cape and leaned in.
Dexter gulped. Were those fangs there before? Were they real?
Was that blood dripping down the fiend’s chin?

Dexter ran from the house past a ghost in the tree
to the corpse hanging on an old swing.
He could still smell the sweet scent of vampire juice
when the skeleton started to sing.

The words that it sang were horrific; they crawled
up your spine...chilled you down to the bone.
Each note held the music of terror and trouble
that claimed you and made you its own.

Dexter raced for his back door in fear and leapt in.
No more Halloween creatures. No more!
The night had gone wrong…awfully, frightfully wrong.
He felt sicker than ever before.

He yearned for his mother to put him to bed…
safe, warm bed…with a sweet lullaby.
When he flew up the stairs and ran straight to her arms,
Dex bid ghosts, ghouls, and goblins good-bye.

“You’re burning up, son, and you’re trembling, too.”
Mother hugged him and brushed back his hair.
It’s Halloween night. Everything’s “just pretend.”
Then she kissed him and looked toward the stair.

(Did her eyes hold a rosy new glare???)
Oh, Dexter. Poor Dexter! BEWARE.



Happy Halloween to the most spooktacular grandchildren ever!
with toads loads of love and creepy good wishes
from your Ghostma and Ghoulpa Anderson

for more fall posts, click here

Wednesday, October 26, 2011

Peace, My Child

©1997, Awaken Your Spiritual Power, Susan Noyes Anderson

I thought I walked this earth alone,

beneath my burdens bowed,

until I found I could not bear

their weight and cried aloud.

And echoing through the darkness

that had framed my solitude,

I heard my cries...first soft and low,

then gaining magnitude.

I prayed for peace within my soul,

deliverance from the night;

and finally, in the distance,

I beheld a flickering light.

The light grew strong and stronger still,

‘til it enveloped me.

The rays were warm and comforting;

I felt my anguish flee.

Let not your heart be troubled,

neither let it be afraid;

for I have known and loved you long

before this world was made.

Peace I leave with you; my peace

I would to you impart;

and ye shall seek and find me

when ye search with all your heart.

The voice spake from deep within;

I felt His calm o’ertake me.

With newfound faith, I knew at last

my Lord would not forsake me.

From this day forth, I’ll walk with God,

the Savior by my side.

Alone no more, His helping hand

will ever be my guide.


The preceding poem was a guest post that I created for House of Sarager. I am publishing it here because I turn my blogs into books every few months and wanted to include it.