Alien-infested cats and sad pumpkins

Happy Halloween! It's my favorite holiday... I'm not coerced into spending time with family. I have a good excuse to watch all the horror movies I want. (Not that I don't already, but they're even more fun this time of year.) I can put out skull and spider decorations without seeming too weird and read endless articles on Dinosaur Dracula reminding me that a low-stakes holiday like this has the potential to make every day for at least a couple months seem a little more magical if I take a minute to make it secretly spooky.

Besides, when else can I dust off pictures of neck-less black cat cookies from "Good Housekeeping's Book of Cookies" (1958)?

Not only neck-less, but also with a tentacled alien bursting out of the area where the neck should be! (Okay, those are supposed to be coconut whiskers, but I have never seen such wildly splayed and apparently writhing whiskers.)

But to be honest, the arrival of Halloween Proper makes me feel kind of like this little guy:

The saddest cookie jack-o-lantern ever! Look at those blank eyes and drooping mouth. The season is almost over. The orange and yellow leaves will blow away. I'll still watch horror movies, but the sounds of chainsaws and screaming carry best in the October air. Jack-o-lanterns will turn back into ... well ... pumpkins.

I can feel your pain, jack-o-lantern cookie, especially since I'll have to spend a big chunk of my high holy day grading papers.

If you have time for one last October adventure, here's Good Housekeeping's recipe to make your own cutout cookies:

For chocolate cats, add four squares of melted unsweetened chocolate to the shortening mixture.

Then whisper an ancient incantation to awaken the spirit of the essay so maybe it will come over and give me a hand with grading so I can get out and enjoy the last few fleeting hours of Halloween.