I am going as my favorite sitcom character.

I model my "Flying Nun" Halloween costume. My paternal Grandmother, Tatjana, sewed the garment, and I made the headpiece.

Tatjana stitched a matching, white bag in which I collected the candy. It rained that afternoon, and as I trick-or-treated, I dragged the cloth bag along the wet sidewalks and through the puddles. When I returned home, my Mom confiscated the wet candy and threw all of it away. She offered me whatever was left over at our house, but that was no consolation. I wanted the thrilling variety of my gathered stash, which surely contained treasures that my Mom would never buy.

Suburban Chicago, October 31, 1967. That's a taxidermied mountain goat head hanging on the cherry-paneled wall of our Rec Room. We bought the object in Glacier National Park. On the ledge sits the great old radio on which my Mom used to listen to Opera at the Met.