The other day, Michael and I stopped by one of our favorite local grocery stores that happened to have large bins of pumpkins out front, all claiming to be from a local farm. We call the store the Fancy Hen House because it’s on the ritzy side of Kansas and is nicer that other Hen House’s. We usually end up here when we’re scrounging up Saturday night’s dinner fixings because it’s fancy, but not fancy/pricey like Whole Foods. I said out loud as I was walking by the first bin of pumpkins “It’s too early to buy a pumpkin.” Then I picked out three small white pumpkins because I wanted ghosts. There were a few very very large pumpkins right by the entrance. I looked down at one and realized that they were pretty cheap for that size of a pumpkin. I looked up at Michael and described an idea of using one of these giant pumpkins as a head for a skeleton body. Michael said that I did not have the right skeleton pieces to do this. So then we argued for a few minutes about what skeleton I needed. I thought I had convinced him that we needed to buy that pumpkin, but then he said “If you can pick it up, you can buy it.”

I did not buy that pumpkin.

Yet.

A few weeks ago, I was thinking about October and how maybe I just wouldn’t decorate this year. I’m busy. If I put it all out, I have to take it all down and that thought made me tired. Micheal and I were out running errands while I was thinking these things and one errand was to stop at Lowes for an air filter. As we walked up to the front doors, Michael asked me where could I go inside that would be the most distracting. I told him “Halloween!” and then he left me there while he hunted down the right filter. When he found me, I’d left Halloween and was wandering the garden section holding a mum. He said “What happened?” I shrugged and said “There’s not much over there to inspire me.” So I thought I’d just leave it this year.

I have been in robot mode since the beginning of September. My head is down and focused on the tasks at hand, getting one task completed and moving on to the next. I’ve taken little time to look up and around. You may have noticed this some with the lack luster photos I’ve been posting lately. One morning this week, the sunrise with the clouds was spectacular. I zipped past my friend Erica on my way to work and she texted me to ask if I’d taken pictures of the sky that morning. She’d been out trying to find a good shot of the sky when I’d passed by on Valerie. I had to tell her that I didn’t stop to take any pictures and I felt disappointed in myself. People keep asking me how the art showing is going and I just shrug and say “okay.” Because nothing is really happening. Pictures are up, but I’m not standing around the Starbucks watching and listening to peoples’ comments or reactions to the work. Instead of being excited about the reception next week, I’m fretting about all the little details I need to take care of before then. I’m leaving little space for feelings other than numbness.

Seeing all of those pumpkin bins at the grocery store created a shift. Then I remembered that I’d spent hours last year glueing googly eyes all over my Halloween wreath and I felt a little bit of joy as I thought about that wreath. I have to put that out at least. Oh! There’s also Suzanne. She’s got to come out of her box in the basement. Michael hates Suzanne, which makes me cackle. Tuesday evening, I drew faces on my little white pumpkins while Michael told me about his day. Wednesday evening, Michael came home with a life size posable skeleton that he presented to me as a gift. I named her Jane and spent the rest of the evening posing her. She sat on the couch and played a game of Two Dots before moving to the desk to start on a writing project. Yesterday, she waited in Michael’s closet for him to come home from work. “What the fuck, lady! What the fuck!?!” was his hello for Jane and then he started having regrets about bringing her home. I think we’re going to be the best of friends.

It feels nice to be reminded to leave some space for a bit of playfulness. It feels nice to just lift my head up and expand my view beyond my current tunnel. And it’s not hard to carve out space for any of that, but it is easy to forget to do so. If I get home before Michael today, I’m putting Jane in the washing machine and making him start the first load of laundry.