Some of the people who read this blog really like Halloween.  This household revolves around Comic Cons, Halloween, filmmaking, and various other costuming ventures.   Sometimes I can get an entire costume with accessories finished in a season and other times a costume doesn’t come together for years. One that I have been working on is another pirate costume; one for my other son, Shaun.  Shaun’s costume got put on hold for Todd’s black Spiderman costume about two years ago.  Here is the pirate coat in its completed form.

My other son, Todd, is basically in charge of making his own garments, but although I have taught him to sew, working with stretch fabrics can be a challenge.  I took over sewing the main costume for him after he painstakingly painted the fabric to resemble the print from the original suit. 

 This costume still isn’t finished and was also put on hold as Todd was trying to figure out the best method for the webbing.  He is back to work on it, so hopefully he can have it completed by Free Comic Book Day and Phoenix Comic Con in May.

Yesterday was my day for errands.  Although it is September, here in Glendale the temperatures are still hovering around 104 degrees. A couple of everyday practices, such as keeping the blinds closed to keep the house cooler and getting out early before it got too hot, collided with my intended fashion sense. Having used the headboard lamp in order to see the grocery ads in my bedroom, I was temporarily blinded when I flipped the light off and grabbed my shoes. I wandered the house for a few minutes while I gathered up my essentials for my outing and headed out the door. 

I had to make a couple of quick stops, so I decided to have my prescriptions filled at the local pharmacy first. The drug store was busier than I had normally encountered it because it was now lunchtime. After turning my prescription over to the pharmacy technician, I decided to cruise the store and price some items.  Eventually I wandered my way out to my car and drove to the next stop.  As I was leaving, I noticed a young man looking at me with a slight smile on his face.

The bank inside the local grocery store was where I was going next.  As I was hopping out of the car, a flash of color caught my eye.  I looked down to notice that I was wearing one each of the same shoe in different colors.  I was horrified that I was in a public place and people could see my mistake.  What would people think? That I am an idiot, someone eccentric trying to make a fashion statement or a person who really doesn’t care what she looks like?  My first thought was that maybe I should hurry home and change into the correct shoes.  I decided to abandon my ego and just laugh at my error whether anyone noticed me or not.

The bank teller was alone so when I approached her, I mentioned how I was laughing at myself because I had left the house with two different shoes on.  I tried to explain that my bedroom was dark and I hadn’t noticed the difference in colors.  She laughed and tried to be sympathetic by asking, “One blue and one black?”

My response was “Not even close, one black one red.”

What a humbling experience this was.

Here are some of the attendees.

Batman and catwoman, of course

The Joker and his goon

Why so serious?

Don't be scared. Open your eyes!

See, they won't hurt you!

How many Jokers can we have in one night?

My mother also loved roses and birds.  She must have planted more than thirty roses of all different hues and fragrances around the perimeter of our home.  The smell of roses in the air would almost knock you over on a lovely spring morning.  In a way, the rose, could actually be an analogy for my mother.  She could be very beautiful and engaging on the outside, but she definitely had her thorny side. I think she loved birds because they were free to spread their wings and she always felt tied to her responsibilities.

In June of 2002, Mom became ill at the nursing facility where she was being rehabilitated from a recent hospital stay.  They rushed her to emergency at the nearby hospital.  When I got there she was being her worst prickly self, acting rudely to the hospital staff as well as to my sister and me.  I decided to give her some space and let her cool down before I went back to visit her the next day.  I didn’t even know what room they had put her in, so I had to call the hospital to find her.  After seeing the condition she was in, I felt really bad that I had not come sooner.  I spent the next two days over the weekend by her side in her room because the nurses seemed to have abandoned her.  By Monday, she was being quarantined and her vital signs were slipping.  After the last three years on and off in several different hospitals when I didn’t think she would survive, this was the one time I thought that she would be back in the nursing home recuperating.  It had been a painful journey for both of us and now it looked like it was coming to an end.  The nurse suggested I find a hospice to help ease my mother’s last hours in a more pain-free state.  I opted for the one within the hospital to cut down on moving her too much as she was in extreme pain.  With my husband at my side, we walked by my mother as they wheeled her bed downstairs to the last room she would ever see.  The birds outside the windows were singing especially loud and I watched Mom try to turn her head to see them. As we entered the hospice, the nurse informed us that Mom’s room was ready. My husband and I looked at each other and smiled.  Somehow my mother had intuitively known that the last day of her life would be spent in room number “five” also known as the “rose” room at 5555 W. Thunderbird Road.

Two days later, I noticed a couple of my indoor cats hovering around the back end of the arcadia door. I shooed the cats away to see about ten flies flitting around on the inside of the glass door.  I grabbed the can of insect spray and blasted them.  The cats had now found something else to grab their attention in the nearby window.  As I pulled the blinds away, there were several more flies.  What is going on here?  Where are all these flies coming from?  There were lots of flies outside, but how are they getting into the house?  With this many flies in the house, I would think I would have seen one buzz by me.

When my son, Todd, came home later that day, I told him the creepy story of the flies before I went to lie down.  My head never hit the pillow when I heard, “Hey Mom, come here and see this!” As I rounded the corner, I could see my son over by the arcadia door.  I couldn’t believe my eyes!  There were about twenty more flies crawling on the glass.  As the last fly succumbed to the insect spray, I cautiously moved towards the living room window.  The wooden shutters were closed with a couple of slats open.  A scene from Alfred Hitchcock’s The Birds crept into my mind as I slowly opened the shutters.  I slammed the shutters closed and ran for the bug spray.  When the toxic fumes cleared, I had annihilated over thirty flies just in the living room.  We estimated the body count was somewhere around sixty plus altogether.

So are flies lucky?  Well obviously not for them, but the next day I received the papers in the mail telling me the loan that I had tried for over fours years to refinance was now paid in full.  Somehow through all the goofs and delays, I managed a five percent interest rate.  My monthly mortgage payment has almost been cut in half.  Along with the papers was a big check I wasn’t expecting.  A week later, I got another big check from the escrow account.  Where did all the flies come from?  We never found out and they never came back.  Be careful when you ask God for a sign, you just might get one (or sixty).

A highly anticipated video game with the original cast of Ghostbusters and realistic animation was also released the same day. 

June also heralded the 20^th anniversary of Ghostbusters II.  Now the fans are just waiting for Ghostbusters III to be made and they will be in Stay Puft marshmellow heaven!

The Arizona Ghostbusters did their part at the nearest Game Stop to help collect donations for the Salvation Army and promote the release of the video game.  A blow-up movie screen was on hand to view the film as the Salvation Army painted kid’s faces, provided popcorn, and “pet slimers” for a dollar.

In September 1977, there was a book published called “The Amityville Horror.” I wanted to read this book, but with daily care of a young child, that seemed impossible so I passed on buying it. By 1981, my oldest son was two years old and I was pregnant with the second one. I found myself often tired and not wanting to get out of bed much, but it was around the holidays so I eventually needed to go shopping for Christmas items.  It was now a couple of years since the book was published in paperback and it was no longer prevalent on the store shelves, so I had quite forgotten about it. As I was standing in line at the cash register, I caught a glimpse of the book on a bottom shelf and decided to buy it.

George and Kathy Lutz moved into the house in Amityville on December 23, 1975.  This was close to the time I had actually bought the book…just a coincidence perhaps.

With my son playing quietly beside me in the bed, I was able to find some time to read.  As I was making my way through the chapters, I thought about the unusual stuff that had happened to us in our own house.  I kept thinking that if this Amityville story was true, then these people went through some weird experiences. One chapter talked about the house being plagued by flies despite the winter weather; another, about the Lutz’s five year old daughter who developed an imaginary friend, a demonic pig-like creature with glowing red eyes; and then, the priest who blessed the house would run a high fever whenever he would think about the house.

Naturally, these incidences made for an interesting story, but they didn’t really make an impression on me until the crisp December morning when I walked into my kitchen and found dozens of flies congregating on the inside patio doors.  It freaked me out to say the least as I managed to swat to death the last fly, only to come back an hour later to more flies.  A week or so later, my two year old told me he saw a pig looking in his bedroom window. I never talked about this book to my young son.  By now, all I could think about were the strange demonic happenings in the Amityville house.  I began to run a fever and got very sick with flu-like symptoms.  This lasted about 24 hours and no one else in the house got sick.  I wasn’t sure at this point whether I wanted to finish reading the book, but continued on.

One of the last lines of the book read, “On January 14, 1976 George and Kathy Lutz, with their three children and their dog Harry, left 112 Ocean Avenue leaving most of their possessions behind.” As I closed the book, I realized that the day’s date was January 14, 1982.

Ghost in NH cemetary?

I told Todd it kind of reminded me of when people see the Virgin Mary in a tortilla or just recently a couple claimed that one of their Cheetos looked like Jesus. These people named their new found prize “Cheesus.” Todd huffed and thought that sounded disrespectful to our savior.  I was surprised, yet kind of proud of my son’s reaction only because he never had any real formal religious upbringing and I didn’t know if he felt the deep reverence Christians have for Jesus.  Somehow, I had instilled this in him without really trying.  As I was patting myself on the back, Todd came back in the room and said, “Well at least they didn’t call it  “‘Jeeto’!”

James Marion Winter was in the Army during World War II and the Korean War.  The only stories I have of him were through my mother and I’m sure her memories became sweeter with time, painting him bigger than life for me. I know he was a captain and at one point used to run cable lines ahead of the troops for communication purposes.  There was a time during WWII that he was doing his job high above the ground when a mortar shell exploded nearby knocking him down.  He managed to live through that but sustained injuries from vertebrate crammed into his brain.  He either had a benign tumor already or developed one from his injuries.  He lived for years until the headaches became so severe that doctors at Fort Simmons Army Hospital in Colorado decided to operate.  Unfortunately, the doctors in 1953 did not have the skills and resources for delicate brain surgery like they do today.  My mother was nearly nine months pregnant with me and had an eighteen month old child back in Arizona.  It did not surprise me that she wanted to keep his memory alive as her knight in shining armor.

I had no real emotional connection with my Dad until Saving Private Ryan came out.  The opening scene took place at a military cemetery.  My thoughts were flooded by a similar memory of my sister and I in our twenties roaming the cemetery in Denver looking for my Dad’s grave.  From that moment in the movie, I began to cry.  Tom Hank’s character became the image of my Dad and the tears were non-stop as I held my son, Shaun’s hand, through the entire movie.  I found the emotional connection with my Dad that day as I literally sobbed for another two hours when I got home.  I have never been able to see Saving Private Ryan again.

The horrors of war take a toll on everyone.  Please be grateful for all of the men and women who serve this country so we can live the lives we have.  Savor your memories of those who have fallen and never forget that they did this out of love for this country and their families.