|Halloween with my coworkers|
Ives lives for these moments with his son and daughter--taking them to work with him, treating them to movies and museums, trying to give them everything that his foundling childhood lacked. He is in the business of making memories for his kids because he himself has no memories of his real mother or father. That is why holidays like Halloween and Christmas, which revolve around family, are so important to Ives. Abandoned as a child, Ives wants to make sure that his children feel loved and cherished. Wanted.
Today is my wife's birthday. Unfortunately, we have not been able to spend much time together. I worked. She worked. Since it is the day before Halloween, I was able to play dress-up for the medical office, as you can see. It was great fun. In the afternoon, my wife and I attended my son's elementary school costume parade. It's an event where all the parents are packed into the gym and each classroom of kids march through in their Halloween costumes.
There were Batmans and Darth Vaders and Spidermans galore. My son chose to be a white ninja. He was the only white ninja in the entire school. My wife and I sat in the bleachers and cheered for him. He waved at us as he paraded by. I was easy to spot. I was the only Cat in the Hat in the building.
And then, my wife and I went out separate ways. She went to work. I picked my daughter up from dance class, gave my son a bath, made sure each were fed. Now, I'm sitting on my couch at home, waiting for my wife to come home. There isn't going to be cake or ice cream. No presents. It will just be me, my wife, and Jimmy Fallon. A quiet night in preparation for the craziness of All Hallow's Eve tomorrow.
Once upon a time, a pumpkin farmer named Jack grew tired of growing pumpkins. He was tired of everything that had to do with pumpkins. He was tired of eating pumpkin soup and pumpkin pie and pumpkin seeds and pumpkin bread. He was tired of the smell and color of pumpkins. So Jack decided to become a lemon farmer.
Jack tore up his pumpkin patch and planted lemon trees. He fertilized and watered. He covered the trees when there was frost. He read books about lemons, collected lemon recipes. When he went to bed at night, he dreamed of lemon bars and lemonade and lemon meringue pie. For a year, all Jack did was eat, sleep, and breathe lemons.
In October, when Halloween time arrived, people began showing up at Jack's farm to buy their pumpkins. When they found out that Jack no longer grew pumpkins, they went down the road to the other pumpkin farm. Jack called after them, "Come back! I have lemon pudding!" But nobody came back.
Jack never sold a single lemon and ended up working for the pumpkin farmer down the road.
Moral of the story: When life gives you pumpkins, don't be a dumbass and make lemonade.
And Saint Marty lived happily ever after.
by: Edgar Allan Poe
It was many and many a year ago,
In a kingdom by the sea,
That a maiden there lived whom you may know
By the name of ANNABEL LEE;
And this maiden she lived with no other thought
Than to love and be loved by me.
I was a child and she was a child,
In this kingdom by the sea;
But we loved with a love that was more than love-
I and my Annabel Lee;
With a love that the winged seraphs of heaven
Coveted her and me.
And this was the reason that, long ago,
In this kingdom by the sea,
A wind blew out of a cloud, chilling
My beautiful Annabel Lee;
So that her highborn kinsman came
And bore her away from me,
To shut her up in a sepulchre
In this kingdom by the sea.
The angels, not half so happy in heaven,
Went envying her and me-
Yes! - that was the reason (as all men know,
In this kingdom by the sea)
That the wind came out of the cloud by night,
Chilling and killing my Annabel Lee.
But our love it was stronger by far than the love
Of those who were older than we-
Of many far wiser than we-
And neither the angels in heaven above,
Nor the demons down under the sea,
Can ever dissever my soul from the soul
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee.
For the moon never beams without bringing me dreams
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
And the stars never rise but I feel the bright eyes
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side
Of my darling- my darling- my life and my bride,
In the sepulchre there by the sea,
In her tomb by the sounding sea.
Off the Top of My Head