once a witch always a witch?

      dentures?  no just mini marshmellows and apples.

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boy do i wish i had a picture of me in my halloween costume when i was in 4th grade.
i was a witch. if you are older than 40, like muwa, you probably know that you didn't just go to the
store and pick out a costume. oh no- nuh uh. i grew up in rural MN. on a farm-in the middle of nowhere-(kind of -at least not within walking distance of any neighbors) and there was nowhere to get a costume. so you figured it out -you scrounged around in closets and trunks and and it needed to be free, or close to it. so here's the dealio, our choices always consisted of something like: a hobo, a cat or pipi longstockings(if you were lucky enough to have long hair and some stiff wire). well a witch was what i wanted to be. i remember looking everywhere for some cardboard to make the hat. how hard could this be? HARD as it turns out. it was a production let me tell you, but with some help from my gram and several Wheaties boxes we fashioned a hat. it was black, it was tall and quite fabulous.

what i never took into consideration, was what it was going to be like to get in and out of the car in the wind, over and over that spooky, blustery Halloween night. not only did my hat break in half and blow away...at the last house of the evening, my little cousin, sister and I got out of the car, started towards the house and the wind caught my paper bag full of treats and blew it into the nexxxxxxxxxt county! one very sad little witch slunk on home where my gram made my big sis split her loot with me.  i owe her, for the candy and the cavity. 

                                                                xo, beth