The English Maximalista

It is a crisp Autumnal morning, over here at the love shack. Mr Maximalista is out of town for a few days, so it’s just me and Sadie at home, left to our own devices.

What better opportunity for me to dig out the Halloween decorations, whilst Mr M is not around to roll his eyes at my enthusiasm for being a willing consumer of that ode to million-dollar pagan commercialism, more commonly known as Halloween.

Now, before you start rolling your eyes at me as well, allow me to defensively preface the following paragraphs: I don’t put ghostly inflatable decorations in the front garden (too frugal to spend the $$$), nor do I line our front path with oversized plastic pumpkins (too lazy to put forth the effort). 

But if that’s your thing, good for you! I’m not yucking your yum!

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A hundred years ago, when I was a little girl growing up in rural England, we barely acknowledged Halloween. The big Autumnal event for us Brits was Guy Fawkes Night, aka Bonfire Night, on every November 5th.

Gosh, I was just hit with waves of nostalgia, thinking about evenings drawing to a close by 4pm, the smell of fallen leaves rotting beneath naked trees, and of holding my mother’s hand when we walked home from Brownies. 

The highlight of my childhood Autumn days was watching the steady growth of the massive bonfire being built on the green outside our house, excited for when it was set ablaze on November 5^th. If it wasn’t raining, we might be lucky enough to see the Guy Fawkes Night firework display held at the golf course near our house.

Aah, yes. Happy days.

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Needless to say, things were a little different once I moved to the States. Americans were like, “Guy fucks WHO?” 

So when my daughter was little, I embraced American Halloween: it was fun and new to me. We used to decorate our farmhouse with cute witches and ghosts. I say ‘cute’ because I feel a bit apprehensive around authentically scary-looking decorations. 

I know, I know. I am pathetic.

The Top Banana has always LOVED shops like Spirit Halloween, but I am not a fan… and not because of snobbery, or anything like that: it’s because I’m a jumpy little chicken, okay?

Honestly, I was quite filled with relief when she got old enough to go into those stores by herself, because some of their decorations are simply too creepy for me! I would be skittish at the unexpected noises coming from the ugly plastic ghouls, when we walked down different Halloween aisles.

And oh yes, gentle reader, rest assured I absolutely avoided the back of the store, where all the largest and spookiest decorations are typically displayed.

My daughter still loves Halloween, and is amongst the first in her neighbourhood to decorate her front porch. She eagerly anticipates that first opportunity to carve pumpkins; in fact, she has already been pumpkin picking twice this year… and I fully expect her to go again, before the season ends. 

God, I love that kid!

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When the Top Banana was at primary school, her school district used to hold a Halloween parade around the square, which literally stopped traffic in our tiny town in Wisconsin. (Again, need I mention that this was not the sort of thing that went on, where I grew up in England?)

I embraced the school Halloween parties, and the joy of Trick or Treating. The English Maximalista doesn’t need much of an excuse to dress up as a pirate, and take candy from strangers.

Nowadays, I still stick to those cute witches and ghosts for my Halloween décor… until November 1^st, when I switch the display over to pumpkins and autumnal tchotchkes, in preparation for my favourite American holiday: Thanksgiving! (More about that in another blog!)

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Sadie loves when boxes appear out of the rafters, because she is terribly nosy and loves to give everything a good old sniff. After she has inspected the exciting items getting pulled out of our storage bins, she will inevitably find a conveniently comfortable perch to watch Mama. 

From that spot, she will keep her beady eyes open for interesting objects, filing everything away for future scrutiny and potential destruction, when she has the room to herself.

Our dining table is the perfect spot for me to decorate, since it’s the first thing one sees when one walks through the front door… Plus it has the added benefit of being just out of Sadie’s reach.

Lots of love,

M xo