I didn't have time to mention it yesterday, but Halloween went well. Well, at least things started off well.

As soon as I got home, it took only a minute of scrounging through every kitchen cabinet to find something suitable to hold the candy I had intended on buying ten days earlier, but ended up buying ten minutes earlier. I quickly filled the salad spinner with four bags of fun size Snickers and Milky Way bars. Then I emptied the spinner into the pumpkin bucket after M reminded me we had purchased one last year for Halloween.

Inspired by the neighbors who had converted their driveway into a candy distribution center (complete with a fire pit, buffet table and camping chairs), I thought it would be neat to have our own candy outpost. I dragged out two outdoor chairs from the garage and a third chair from the dining room (for the candy) and set them up on the driveway.

We had been sitting there for less than a minute when the neighbors, who were trying to be neighborly, invited us over to have some of their buffet. We weren't hungry, but to not to be out-neighbored, we wandered over to chat. Unfortunately, my neighborliness caused me to accidentally leave the candy unattended.

Three minutes into the conversation, off the coast of my vision, I spotted four pirates, who happened to be dressed as pirates, come ashore and breach the nonexistent fortifications of the candy outpost. They quickly discovered the unguarded pumpkin bucket sitting in plain sight and set about plundering it.

In fact, they were in mid-plunder when I said to them in a strong, yet neighborly voice, "Hey! How about taking a few pieces each and leaving the bucket, okay?" It sounds wimpy written down, but trust me, said aloud, it only sounded half as wimpy.

One of the buccaneers, the one running in the opposite direction with the bucket tucked neatly under her arm, pretended not to hear me, but stopped short when one of her shipmates, a stocky fellow who wore an eye patch and carried a cutlass, exclaimed, "Aye! Ashley! Leave the pumpkin! There be plenty of ports with booty to loot, pillage and sack." His brief, yet moving speech gave me pause as I wondered if I had misheard him in the chaos of the moment or if somebody in the neighborhood had stolen my idea for HalloWriMo treats.

Anyway, Ashley gave a frustrated, yet hearty "Arrr!" and returned the bucket. She was just about to depart when, in a final act befitting a brigand, she ruthlessly grabbed one last handful of chocolate bars before casting off.

I soon regained my wits and reclaimed the bucket, which I happily discovered wasn't empty like I feared. Only a quarter of the candy had been swiped. Thankfully, the rest of the evening was less eventful. We had a wide variety of characters visit and ask us for candy. Some asked nicely, some too shy to speak pleaded with their eyes and a bold few brushed aside all formalities and simply helped themselves.

For my own amusement, I kept a mental inventory of the trick-or-treaters who came to our driveway. We had a horse, a farmer, a chicken, three babies with bottles, a lindy hopper, a Jedi Knight, two Batmen, a Barbie cheerleader, a Power Ranger, three Supermen, an undead football player, the Flash, a policeman, a firefighter, three Buzz Lightyears and one disturbing child dressed in a contamination suit.

There were plenty of others who visited; too many, in fact, because within an hour we were out of candy. After I gave away the last piece, we disassembled the outpost as quickly as we could and retreated to the safety of the house. The rest of the night was happily spent ignoring the doorbell, hiding in the living room (with the lights out and away from the front windows), enjoying dinner and watching DVDs.