Since shopping is my favorite hobby, you’d think I’d be able to find a Halloween Ghost-themed windsock or hanging lantern for my cherry tree; with its spindly bare branches it looks appropriately spooky this time of year and serves as a perfect backdrop for a hanging ghost. But these wispy spirits have eluded me for years. I could probably find a random one online and pay a thousand dollars for shipping to Canada, but it perplexes me as to why a simple hanging ghost decoration isn’t readily available in my local department, dollar or specialty party store? Believe me, I’ve checked and found everything else—banners, buckets, costumes, door decorations, fencing, figurines, flags, hanging heads that feature light and sound, inflatables, lawn ornaments, masks, props, strobe lights, tombstones, treat bags and window clings.
When I can’t find what I’m looking for, I resort to desperate measures.
Several years ago I saw a ghost windsock hanging from the ceiling of a now defunct party store, and after pleading and begging for several minutes convinced the woman to sell it to me, even though it wasn’t for sale. It belonged to the store’s private collection of decorations and was the only one of its kind.
Over the years I lost it in the bowels of my basement, and decided to make my own out of a white shower curtain and a lot of sweat and tears.
When it comes to crafting and sewing I know enough to be undaunted by most patterns, but not enough to do a really great job. (Yes, I need to use a pattern and very specific instructions.) Plus I inherited my father’s clumsy fingers when it comes to fine motor coordination. So my friends and family are very kind with their remarks, but if a seriously gifted seamstress or crafter took a close look, they would laugh in my face at my crooked stitches and fraying hems.
No matter, it looks good enough for my purposes. I don’t think the neighbourhood kids will notice how uneven the ghost’s streamers are. If they do, I’ll give them extra candy for being so observant.
This year, while de-cluttering my basement, I found my original Ghost Windsock, so now I have two of them hanging proudly in my front yard. If I ever run across another one in my shopping travels, I’m grabbing it.
So, Dear Blog Reader, if you should come across a ghost windsock, think of me. And perhaps you should buy it for yourself, because apparently they’re as rare as four-leaf clovers.