Say My Name: "In War Time, 1863," by Jane A. Stickle

Good morning, Quilty Peeps!  Today's post is another in a series exploring and organizing my thoughts around the many quilts I hope to make "Someday," in order to deter myself from wasting time chasing the so-called Squirrel Projects that sometimes distract me.  The idea is that, before I purchase a new pattern or project materials, I'll consult my new Future Quilt Plans page at the top of my blog and decide whether I really want to invest the time in that new distraction project, or whether I really would be happier digging into one of my Bucket List quilts instead.  It has recently dawned on me that I probably won't live long enough to make every single quilt that strikes my fancy, so I want to be more intentional about which quilts I admire from a distance and which ones I choose to make for myself.

"In War Time, 1863" by Jane A. Stickle

"In War Time, 1863" 80.25 x 80.25 Original Antique Quilt by Jane A. Stickle

So much has been written about this iconic quilt.  You can see it in person at the Bennington Museum in Bennington, Vermont (check first before traveling as it's not always on display) and the best history of the quilt maker Jane A. Stickle can be found in the Summer 2013 issue of the Walloomsack Review on the museum's website here.  I know some of you have already made one or more versions of this quilt and others of you have it on your own Wanna-Make lists, but you're likely calling the original antique quilt by a different name.

Jane A. Stickle Named Her Quilt "In War Time, 1863."  NOT "Dear Jane"

One of the many remarkable things about Stickle's quilt is that, very unusually for the period, her quilt includes a label that names her quilt "In War Time, 1863" as well as the number of pieces in the quilt (5,602) and her name, Jane A. Stickle.  The "Dear Jane Quilt" moniker derives from a 1996 book by Brenda Manges Papadakis in which the author extols the virtues of the Stickle quilt and presents self-drafted line drawing reproductions of the blocks interspersed with extensive imaginary correspondence with the quilt maker.  Papadakis was so smitten with the Stickle quilt that she was inspired to learn everything she could about the quilt maker, the world she inhabited, and what was happening around her during the time she made the quilt.  However, Jane Stickle was an ordinary woman of declining fortunes living in times when ordinary women's lives tended to go undocumented.  We know she was childless, we know she was married but living apart from her husband at one point in their marriage when the census listed him as living with some other, much younger wife.  Later censuses show Jane living with her husband again, filing for bankruptcy, and ending her life as a ward of the state.  "In War Time, 1863" was a project she devised to pass time when she was bedridden.  

Papadakis' book Dear Jane: The Two Hundred Twenty-Five Patterns from the 1863 Jane A. Stickle Quilt  and the many classes she taught have been instrumental in sharing Stickle's exquisite masterpiece with hundreds of thousands of quilters worldwide, both challenging and encouraging readers to attempt reproductions and variations based on the original.  If Papadakis had not written about and popularized this quilt, I probably wouldn't even know it existed.  And, to her credit, Papadakis herself refers to Jane's quilt reverentially as "The Quilt" and only nicknames her students and their quilts as "Baby Janes."  The quilt only became known as "The Dear Jane Quilt" colloquially subsequent to the publication of the Papadakis book as quilters around the world fell in love with the quilt and began the journey of making “Dear Jane” quilts themselves.  

Which is all well and good, except what would that look like if Jane Sickle had been a male artist, working in a highly esteemed medium like oil painting rather than the oft-denigrated “women’s work” of needle craft?

The Dear Leonardo Portrait

The "Dear Leonardo" Portrait (instead of Mona Lisa or La Giaconda) by Leonardo Da Vinci?

My beloved Leonardo,

         I dreamed of you with longing today whilst working on my replica of The Portrait.  Who was this woman you painted, and what did she mean to you?  She must have sat in your presence for hours on end as you painted, close enough to breathe the same air, staring directly into your smoldering eyes and inhaling the intoxicating scent of your manhood.  Was she your mother, as some have supposed, the wife of your father's merchant friend Giaconda, or your own secret paramour, smirking at you playfully?  Perhaps she tried to keep a straight face as was customary in portraits of the time, but your ribald stories and dirty jokes broke down her maidenly reserve.  You lived through such an amazing time, what with the Renaissance and the Medici family's campaign to Make Florence Great Again...  Oh Leonardo, if only we were not separated by the centuries, I know you and I would be lovers as I am truly your soul mate now that I am copying your painting and thereby gaining access to your very soul!  I long to lick your paint brushes clean and will never stop searching for more of your precious paintings.

                                                     Your Playmate,

                                                      Rebecca Grace

Now seriously -- Isn't that WEIRD when it’s me writing letters to Leonardo Da Vinci instead of Brenda Papadakis writing letters to Jane Sickle?  Writing to "My beloved Jane" and signing off "your playmate Brenda" comes straight out of the Papadakis book.   (There are no sexual overtones in Papadakis’ letters to Jane, however.  I got carried away with my letter to Leonardo…)

Star of North Carolina: AccuQuilt vs. Electric Quilt Software

Happy Friday, Quilty Peeps!  I took a little design detour yesterday, playing around with a historical quilt block called Star of North Carolina in an updated color scheme of Kona Solid fabrics.

My 58 x 74 Star of NC Design, Using 8 Inch Blocks

I became aware of this block recently when AccuQuilt reintroduced their limited edition 12" North Carolina Star BOB (Block On Board) die as a permanent offering.  "Block On Board" (BOB) refers to AccuQuilt dies that are designed to cut all of the shapes needed for a particular quilt block with a single pass through the die cutting machine.  (By the way, all of AccuQuilt's BOB dies are on sale 20% off, now through January 30th.  This post contains affiliate links).

AccuQuilt's 12 Inch North Carolina Star BOB Die

Barbara Brackman's definitive reference book, the Encyclopedia of Pieced Quilt Patterns, 3rd Ed., identifies this as Block #473 in the Ladies' Art Company Catalog that was published from 1889 through the 1970s.  

The Beastly Y-Seam Block Has a Name: Cathedral Window by Nancy Cabot, 1933 Chicago Tribune

When I was recreating, resizing, recoloring and revising the Moda Modern Building Blocks Sampler in EQ8 Quilt Design Software, swapping out some of the blocks for others in my EQ Block Library, I didn't pay much attention to the information contained in the software "notecard" for each block.  After toiling away at all of these Y-seams, however, I was curious about where this block I'm making came from and I went back to my software to find out.

Cathedral Window by Nancy Cabot, Originally Published in 1933 Chicago Tribune

The 20" block I'm currently working on was designed by Loretta Leitner Rising (under the pen name Nancy Cabot) and it was originally published in the Chicago Tribune in 1933.  Per the newspaper column, she named the block Cathedral Window because it was inspired by the first cathedral built in Kentucky that year, and Cabot suggested "pastel pink or blue with white" as colorways.  I've recolored the block above using a reproduction 1930s fabric so you can see it as the pattern designer envisioned it.  

In Barbara Brackman's Encyclopedia of Pieced Quilt Patterns this block is given reference number 1953, and it's also in the EQ Blockbase program that can either tie into EQ8 software or be used alone to identify block patterns and/or print templates and foundation paper piecing patterns in whatever size you need.  

Cathedral Window is Reference No. 1953 in Brackman's Encyclopedia of Pieced Quilt Patterns

A lot of the quilt block patterns that were published early in the last century involved challenging construction methods such as curved piecing, Y-seams, and partial seams.  Most American quilters would have had strong needlework skills at that time, when sewing machine sales were just beginning to take off and readymade clothing was not yet affordable for most families.  Y-seam construction would not have been as intimidating to the Tribune's readers in 1933 as it is to quilters today.  

Sixteen Y-Seams!

Even so, I was not able to locate a single example of an entire quilt made from this block on the Internet -- but maybe the images are out there, just not associated with the pattern name or designer's name that I was using as keywords?  If anyone knows of a vintage quilt -- or ANY quilt -- made from this block pattern, please let me know in the comments so I can add that to this post.  I'm all about giving design credit where it's due.

Of course, my own color choices for this block are very different:

My Version of Nancy Cabot's Cathedral Window Block in Kona Solids

I love how the exact same block can look completely different in different fabrics, don't you? Here's as far as I got with this block yesterday:

My Cathedral Window Block In Progress

I have completed eight of the sixteen Y-seams in this block, and in case anyone is interested, I wrote a step-by-step tutorial for Y-seam patchwork in yesterday's post here.  

Dashed Yellow Lines Indicate Seams Remaining to be Sewn

Even so, I can't imagine making an entire bed sized quilt from this block, can you?!  I'm linking today's post with:

·       Oh Scrap! at Quilting Is More Fun Than Housework http://quiltingismorefunthanhousework.blogspot.com

·       Design Wall Monday at Small Quilts and Doll Quilts  

·       Monday Making at Love Laugh Quilt

·       BOMs Away Katie Mae Quilts  

·       Colour and Inspiration Tuesday at Clever Chameleon

Small Progress and Big Plans: A Pineapple Block and an Arsenic Green Caroling Frock

Paper Pieced Pineapple Log Cabin: Block 20 of 36 Completed

So, one more paper pieced pineapple log cabin block was finished a few of weeks ago that I never got around to sharing.  Twenty blocks down, sixteen more to go.  My stack of blocks is growing, but I'm setting this aside (again!) -- to start some new projects!

I recently received an email from a fellow church choir member with the subject "Do you like to sing Christmas carols?"  Well, I like to sing Christmas carols about as much as Garfield the cat likes to eat lasagna. 


Rebecca is to Caroling as Garfield is to Lasagna

It turns out that he (Carl from choir, not Garfield) sings with a group that puts together SATB (Soprano, Alto, Tenor, and Bass) quartets to sing at shopping centers, country clubs, corporate events, nursing homes, and private parties throughout the holiday season, and they are short on Altos.  I've been singing Alto for the past year due to ongoing issues with my upper vocal range, and I've been enjoying learning the Alto harmonies.  When I found out that I get to wear a "Dickensian caroling costume" while singing Christmas carols in 4-part harmony, I said yes immediately. 

The Holiday Singers of Charlotte, North Carolina

By the way, if any of you are planning a holiday event in the Charlotte, North Carolina area and you'd like to hire carolers, you'll want to book that ASAP as the calendar is already filling up.  Visit the Holiday Singers web page for details.  If you tell her I sent you, Jeanine will try to schedule me to sing at your event unless I'm already committed to sing somewhere else that day.

The group has a repertoire of about 75 pieces, from the really old, traditional carols like The First Noel and Deck the Halls to classics from the 1930s-1950s, like Let It Snow, The Christmas Song (a.k.a. Chestnuts Roasting On an Open Fire), Jingle Bells, and Frosty the Snowman.  Then there's Vince Guaraldi's melancholy jazz Christmas Time Is Here from the Peanuts Christmas special, Jingle Bell Rock, and the fairly recent Mary Did You Know.  There are only one or two pieces I'd never heard before, but I've never sung the Alto harmony on any of them before.  I love learning new music, and I love the harmonies on those jazz and swing pieces, so I'm having a ball with the music.

But meanwhile, the costume...  What happens when a fabric-loving interior designer with a history degree is asked to come up with a "Victorian/Dickensian caroling outfit?"  Well, first comes research, then pattern perusal, delusional fabric shopping, Grand Plans...  and then a certain degree of panic when I opened the pattern instructions and discovered that this dress is way, WAY over my head.

Inspiration: mid-Victorian day dresses from about the time Charles Dickens published A Christmas Carol in 1843.  There are some very frumpy mid-Victorian dresses that would be entirely appropriate for Deck the Halls (like the brown frock below) but that would feel anachronistic when it was time to sing something jazzy like Let It Snow.  I think my dress should look like a Dickensian caroling costume that Edith Head might have designed for a caroling number in the film White Christmas.



Circa 1862 Brown Dress That I Will Not Be Wearing

The dress does need to be a "day dress,"  with a high neck and covered arms, as opposed to a ball gown with exposed .  The silhouette is a very full, bell-shaped skirt (but not a bustle yet) supported by hoops, with full sleeves and a corseted waistline.  Obviously I'm not wearing a corset, since breathing is necessary for singing, so there's that to keep in mind.  Notice how all of the bodice shaping comes from vertical darts originating at the waistline -- no typical bust darts or princess seams, and that creates a poufy fullness through the bust and shoulders that contrasts with the cinched-in waist.

I found a fantastic pattern designed by Andrea Schew for Simplicity patterns.  The inspiration for the pattern came from this 1863 Godey's Lady's Book fashion plate:

1863 Godey's Lady's Book



Simplicity 1818 Pattern

What I love about this pattern is how Andrea has recreated the distinctive silhouette of the era not by relying on a period-correct corset tightened to the point that the wearer can hardly breathe, but by adding design ease through the bust of the bodice.  Sandwiched between the extreme fullness of the skirt and the angled and boned cone-shaped bodice, the waist just APPEARS smaller than it is.  This pattern is drafted with 2" of ease at the waistline, but 4 1/2" of ease through the bodice. 

Bodice Front has 2" Ease at Waist, but 4 1/2" Ease at Bust for Faux Corseted Silhouette

 

Instructions are included for creating booby pads to fill out that extra space if needed, but in my case the extra room up top means that I should be able to get a good fit without having to do any kind of full or prominent bust adjustment.  Yippee!  All that, AND I get to breathe!

 

I'm going to be making the view on the right, with contrasting ruffles, because in my mind that very graphic contrasting trim best channels the spirit of the two different eras I'm trying to evoke.

Edith Head's Sketch for Rosemary Cluny's Finale Costume in White Christmas, 1954

See what I mean?  The big full skirt, the bold, contrasting trim on the skirt, the small waist, the V-neck...  The only thing I think I'll ditch from the pattern is the very American Civil War looking collar of the chemisette or fichu (the white blouse thingy sticking out at the neck).  If you scroll back up to the inspiration dress from Godey's, I don't see anything that looks like a high white collar beneath that dress.  So I'll probably change that.

Circa 1850

The dress in the circa 1850 photo above is similar to the one I'm making.  Although she does have the white poufy undersleeves, she doesn't seem to have any kind of fichu or chemisette under the neckline of her dress, does she?  Hard to tell for sure, but there's definitely no high collar.  Maybe I'll see how much coverage I get just from the bodice of the dress before I decide whether I need anything under it.  V necklines are much more flattering on me than high jewel necks anyway.  We'll see.

As for color -- something Christmasy and festive, something that is flattering with my skin tone, and something that would be period correct for both 1843 and 1954...  I wanted a natural fiber fabric (modern synthetics hadn't been invented yet in Dickens' day) and something lightweight and crisp that would swish when I walk and make me feel fancy.  And I didn't just want to just copy the colors off the pattern envelope because that would be boring.  And so, ladies and gentlemen, I present to you my ARSENIC GREEN dress fabric:

My Green and Black Silk Shantung with Trims, No Flash

My Green and Black Silk Shantung and Trims, With Flash

When I saw this silk shantung in the clearance section at Mary Jo's Cloth Store, I immediately knew that it would be a good color for both eras.  In the mid nineteenth century, this color fabric was actually made with arsenic dye and it was very expensive, wildly popular, and incidentally, poisonous!

Arsenic Green Day Dress Circa 1865, FIT Museum

Another Arsenic Green Dress circa 1860

The interesting thing to me is not that arsenic was ever used in clothing dye, but that Victorian women KNEW these green dresses were making them sick, and they wore them anyway because this shade of green was the height of fashion and they wanted to look chic, whatever the cost.  Some things never change!

1862 Political Cartoon, Punch Magazine

I found similar shades of vivid emerald or bottle green in my research for the Old Hollywood Glamour era as well, although by that time they were no longer using arsenic to dye the cloth:



1954 Balenciaga

Vivian Leigh's "Drapery Gown" Costume for Gone With the Wind, 1939

Marilyn Monroe's Green Dress from River of No Return, 1954

Now, THERE's a Christmas caroling dress if ever I saw one!!  That dress, worn by none other than Marilyn Monroe in the film River of No Return, recently sold at auction for nearly half a million dollars.  THIS dress actually reminds me of what my grandmother (yes, my GRANDMOTHER!) wore to my wedding...  But I digress.  Don't worry -- although I was briefly tempted, I ultimately decided against trying to incorporate waist-high skirt slits and a plunging neckline into my caroling outfit.  Because December is COLD. Also I don't want to get kicked out of the singing group for showing too much skin.  But see how nicely the green and black color scheme works for both a Victorian and an Old Hollywood vibe?


1838 Morning Dress, World of Fashion

1864 Godey's Lady's Book

Anyway, my dress will be made from the green silk shantung with black silk shantung ruffles and black gimp trim, as well as picot-edged black satin bows, as per the Simplicity pattern.  I found a poly/cotton broadcloth in almost the exact shade of green for the bodice lining, and all of the dress pieces will be underlined with silk organza (if you don't know what I'm talking about, there's a great article about underlining with silk organza in Threads magazine issue #97 from October/November 2001).  Why am I going to all the bother to underline a costume dress with silk organza?  To reduce wrinkling, for one thing, and add some body, primarily.  The silk shantung is very thin.  The organza underlining will strengthen the seams, carry the fusible interfacing in the collar facing so I don't have to fuse to the silk (which would cause the fused silk to lose its shine and no longer match the rest of the dress.  I also need the silk underlining to support the weight of the ruffles and trim.  Yes, it's a costume, but I need to wear it half a dozen times in the space of two weeks without being able to have it cleaned in between wearings.  I can't have it disintegrate into a rumpled, raveled mess. 

In hindsight, I probably should have skipped the local fabric store and sourced my fabric from my interior design fabric resources instead.  I could have gotten fantastic faux silk fabric with great body and wrinkle resistance at a reasonable price, in any color imaginable, and saved myself the considerable additional expense and bother of the silk organza underlining.  Shoulda, woulda, coulda!  Once I bought the silk shantung dress fabric, there was no going back.

As I mentioned earlier, this dress pattern is WAY beyond my garment sewing ability level.  Fortunately, my mom is helping me sew it.  So there's the obvious goal of having a costume ready to wear in time for my first caroling gig on December 3rd, but then there's a larger implied objective of learning new skills and gaining more confidence with garment sewing.  That's worth a caroling costume that costs more than my wedding gown did, don't you think?

Of Christmas Trees, Candles, and Electric Lights

Bing Crosby and Marjorie Reynolds in Holiday Inn, 1942

Lars and Anders were watching Holiday Inn for the first time this morning, enjoying the silver screen shenanigans of Bing Crosby and Fred Astaire.  Anders, my snappy dresser, especially enjoyed Fred Astaire -- dancing in TUXEDOS?!  What's not to love? 

I was startled when I noticed that the Christmas tree in this scene was lit by actual CANDLES.  In 1942?  Didn't they have electric Christmas tree lights by then?


First Electrified Christmas Tree, 1882

Well, my curiosity was piqued, so I did a little online research and found that, although Edward Johnson, Vice President of Edison Electric Company, first wired up electric lights on a Christmas tree in his home in 1882 as a publicity stunt, the majority of American Christmas trees continued to be lit by candles for another half century.  Wealthy people began electrifying Christmas trees for their parties around the turn of the century, but not only did this require hiring electricians to individually string and wire bulbs together, but they also needed to be hooked up to generators.  The first pre-strung lights weren't introduced for sale until after 1917, but even then they were so expensive that some department stores rented them rather than selling them outright. 

Still, Holiday Inn was made in 1942, and it was a big Hollywood studio production -- surely they could afford electric lights for their sets, right?  So here's the really interesting part, the part I knew but had forgotten: The introduction of electricity was confined to urban areas for decades, creating huge disparity between the lifestyles of city dwellers versus the millions of Americans who lived in rural areas.  This was because the power companies paid to create the infrastructure necessary for providing electricity, and it just didn't make good business sense to spend a lot of money running wiring to rural areas that were sparsely populated, with so many fewer potential customers.  It wasn't until after World War II that the majority of Americans had electrical power in their homes -- so, in 1942, the Christmas Trees in "rural Connecticut" absolutely would have been lit by candles, because the farm-turned-inn and the entire town of Midville, Connecticut would have still been without electricity at that time. 

If you're interested in reading more about the history of electric Christmas lights, I found the most complete history here from the NECA National Electrical Contractors Association.

Merry Christmas, everyone!

In Defense of Halloween, an American Cultural Celebration for Children

Norman Rockwell

When I think of Halloween in the United States, this is what comes to mind: Little kids looking adorable in their superhero, princess, or pirate costumes, families making memories carving funny faces on pumpkins and scooping out the goo, school parties and costume parades and contests for the most original homemade costume. Bobbing for apples, the excitement of troops of little ones out after dark with mom or dad, skipping from house to house for trick-or-treating. The loot sorting afterwards, your sister trading you Milk Duds for your Good and Plenty. Watching It's the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown on television a few days prior, practicing cut-and-paste skills in the creation of construction paper bats and spiders, and maybe a harmless spooky story or two. Norman Rockwell captured the spirit of Halloween as a cultural phenomenon of American childhood in several of his iconic covers for The Saturday Evening Post:

Norman Rockwell, Hallowe'en 1925

Norman Rockwell, Hallowe'en 1920

What I love most about the 1920 cover above is the expression of delighted fake fear on the man's face as he pretends to be scared of the little girl in the sheet. Boo!

Let's take a stroll down memory lane and see how our parents and grandparents celebrated Halloween as children:

Halloween circa 1948

Halloween circa 1950

1958 School Halloween Party at the Kansas School for the Deaf

Halloween circa 1960

1960s Halloween

Class picture from a school Halloween party taken in the 1970s

School Halloween Party circa 1979




Carving Pumpkins in 1977

 

That last photo is my family carving pumpkins in 1977 according to our annual tradition.  Susan on the left, me in the middle, and Janice the Manice about to climb into the pumpkin on the right.  I'm pretty sure the way this went down is that we drew the faces on the pumpkins with a black magic marker, and Dad cut them out with a knife.  I think I drew elegant eyelashes on my pumpkin one year and was disappointed that Daddy could not execute these details with the carving knife!




Halloween 1977, Rebecca Grace and Susan Nicole

  

Here we are in our Halloween costume a few days later, posing next to the Jack-o-Lanterns.  Her middle name isn't really Nicole -- that's an inside joke.  :-)  Man, I wish I still had that orange wig; Anders wants to be Ron Weasley for Halloween and I'm still not sure how I'm going to safely turn his sweet blond locks to orange!



Halloween 1979

 

That's me (and part of Janice the Manice) in the photo above as witches for Halloween in 1979, yet the scariest thing in the picture is the hot pink lamp thingy hanging in the background.  

Of course, the best Halloween costumes are always the homemade ones.  My mom made my brother an R2-D2 costume one year, and Janice the Manice was Princess Leah in her nightgown with Reebok sneakers on her feet.  I'm pretty sure that flower thing on top of her head was a little silk flower ring that went around a scented candle from our dining room table.

Donnie as R2D2 and Janice as Princess Leia

Check out this House of Cards themed group costume that won first price in a Halloween costume contest back in 1980:





Lars's First Halloween, duck costume made by me with the help of Mom & Grammy

 

Since the duck costume, I haven't made any more costumes for my kids (not entire costumes, anyway -- I did make some Jedi cloaks a few years back to go with store-bought Star Wars costumes). However, we did have a family Justice League Halloween in 2006, with Anders as Batman, Lars as Spiderman, and I just couldn't resist making an Aquaman costume for Bernie.  I used a Kwik-Sew men's skating costume pattern, with hunter green stretch velvet for the pants and a sequined orange lycra fabric for the top that looked like scales... or disco... depending on your perspective.  I actually justified the purchase of my coverstitch serger in a fit of frustration because I didn't like the way my other hemming options were working on the Aquaman top.  So, all in all, this Aquaman costume cost close to $1,500.  I hope Bernie appreciated it!



Halloween 2006: Anders, Bernie & Lars

 

SO...  I've been stomping around the house all week, complaining about Elon Park Elementary School's anti-Halloween policy, and I had originally planned to write an impassioned defense of harmless holiday festivities at school.  Lars's school had something called a "Fall Harvest" party on Thursday, and parents were sent explicit instructions forbidding any party plates, napkins or decorations with so much as a spider or a black cat on them.  What even IS a Fall Harvest party?  If we celebrate the harvest in October, doesn't that make the Thanksgiving party redundant in November?

If you google things like "anti halloween schools" and "halloween banned schools" you will find, as I did, that a mostly misinformed minority of parents is being allowed to impose their wishes on the rest of us, and the schools are just trying to avoid controversy so they can focus on education.  I actually found where one woman claimed that having a classroom Halloween party is like forcing all children to fast in observance of Ramadhan.  Excuse me?  Whatever the roots of Halloween may or may not have been in Europe in the 16th century or earlier, it has always been a widespread and completely secular holiday in the United States.  No one is suggesting seances and human sacrifices, and most of the little kids would rather dress up as Disney princesses and superheroes than witches or skeletons anymore.  Give me a break.  If you'd like to argue with me about this, feel free to comment.

Anyway, we're looking forward to celebrating Halloween at our house this year.  Our decorations are up outside, and tomorrow morning we're going in costume to a Charlotte Symphony Lollipops concert to listen to spooky orchestral music, then carving our pumpkins in the afternoon.  Sunday after church, the boys will be doing early trick-or-treating with their Kids In Christ youth group to collect donations for Loaves & Fishes to feed those in the community who are in need.  Then after dinner, as soon as it gets dark, it's trick-or-treat time in the neighborhood!

I hope you and your families all have a wonderful weekend, regardless of how you choose to celebrate -- or not celebrate -- Halloween.