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October 25, 2004
The Halloween party was last night. No one knows how many showed up. They had a band at one point, and then threw the band out. A forgotten cymbal rests in a corner of the family room. Daughter spent the day cooking with two friends. Four crock pots of Sloppy Joe and enough beverage to fill the bathtub. They were everywhere, camped under blankets in the crawlspace, wandering the basement, encamped in Junior's shag pad, overflowing the family room, plinking on the piano in the living room, gathered in the garage, and running barefoot in the rain across the lawn.