This Halloween was clear and chilly, and a Saturday. In an alternate universe, it would have been the perfect day for trick-or-treating, but the sidewalks were empty.

I used Halloween as a motivational tool this October, and had one of the most creatively productive Octobers I’ve ever had. I cranked out costume piece after costume piece, outfitting three kids in head-to-toe gear and making enough other stuff for the others to have at least one new thing each, the rest of their costumes a mishmash of odds and ends from their drawers and other costumes. The kids got dressed early and went for mid morning stroll around the neighborhood, to the amusement of the neighbors.

As a consolation prize for not being able to trick-or-treat, our city had set up candy and pumpkin stations at all the local parks. In the afternoon, we drove to a nearby park to meet friends. We could have walked, but I was sewing up until after we should have left even if we were driving.

We met our friends, collected candy, walked around the pond, then parted ways. This fall has been particularly beautiful. The walk around the pond was long enough to feel good but short enough that none of the kids had time to run out of steam. The leaves were glowing in the afternoon sun.

If a walk around the pond and getting a bag of candy by standing in a socially distanced line were what happened every Halloween, it would have been a very satisfactory afternoon. Instead, there was quite a lot of complaining. I would like to focus on how beautiful it was, but it was a tough day. It’s one thing when COVID ruins your own life. You kind of get used to it, the isolation and constant anxiety. But when it alters family traditions, especially new and fun ones, it’s hard.

I felt defensive as my kids complained about our plans for the day. I’d spent hours sewing their costumes, which turned out great, and the level of discontent really grated on me. You have amazing costumes. You have candy. Technically the end result is the same.

I know, it’s not the same. I’m just as disappointed as you are.

There were a few meltdowns today. More than one was had by me.

There is all of this beauty and creativity coming out of my body right now, because it feels like the only thing I can do to combat the whirling chaos that is our world. Sometimes the creating makes it OK. Sometimes the contrast between beauty and chaos is just a reminder of how off center everything is.

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Originally I started the blog with the kids named by number. That hasn’t felt right for a while, and I haven’t figured out an alternative that provides them with some measure of privacy. As a result, when I mention the kids on the blog, I haven’t really known what to call them.

Here’s a quick breakdown of the costumes labeled by what they are sort of supposed to be, if you’re interested in that sort of thing:18th c. Witch costume/18th c. Hermione Granger: knitted fingerless mitts I had on hand, knitted witch hat I ordered (inspired by 16th c. alewives’ hats), the cape from last year’s Victorian stroll, and a handsewn red apron. The blue petticoat and brown bedgown are primarily machine sewn and hand finished. Underneath are a shift, bum pad, quilted petticoat, pantaloons, and my 18th c. jumps. I’ve been working on building this costume since late summer, gradually adding pieces. The only thing I did for Halloween was lengthen the sleeves of the bedgown for warmth.The Nurse from Romeo and Juliet: I slashed and spread my 18th c. jumps pattern to make a boned bodice. It’s a layer of cotton canvas, a layer of cotton batting for warmth, and two layers of cotton broadcloth for the lining and outer layer. She wore her green petticoat from the Victorian stroll with another of my petticoats and a bum pad underneath for floof. She’s wearing a handsewn Dutch milkmaid cap, a handsewn apron and neckerchief, and a cape I made for her for the Victorian stroll. The only thing I made new specifically for her for Halloween was the bodice, which I blazed through in about 24 hours.18th century maiden: I’ve been working on this costume for a couple of months. She’s wearing a quilted petticoat, a linen petticoat, a pinner apron made from one of her dad’s old dress shirts, a cotton bedgown, a handsewn neckerchief, an Ecuadorian hat and gloves we had on hand. Unseen, is pantaloons, a tulle petticoat we had on hand, and a purple and blue bodice made from my jumps pattern (for a pattern that came in just one size, I’m getting a ton of mileage from it), this time shrunk to her size. It’s layered cotton canvas, cotton batting, and quilting cotton layered for warmth and it’s the cutest thing ever. I made the bodice and added length to the sleeves of the bedgown for Halloween, but everything else I’d made already. Elizabethan Sea Dogs: I shrank the Reconstructing History Elizabethan Sea Dogs pattern to kid size to make the green jerkin. It’s supposed to have tabs at the bottom, but its wearer was adamant he did not want the tabs. I made it with khadi cotton, a layer of canvas for stiffness, and lined it with cotton batting for warmth. Underneath is an oversized button down shirt, and some shorts I made years ago.

I took the frock pattern from the same Sea Dogs pattern set and made an incredible garment for my nine-year-old son, linen lined with cotton batting and quilting cotton, warm and soft and fantastic. He decided it was too hot to wear.

He wore the 18th century sailor’s slops I made from cotton canvas using my pantaloons pattern but adding a waistband with buttons in the front and lacing in the back. I did my internet research, figured out what I wanted to make, and made it, and they turned out really well. I made him an 18th century pirate shirt from some cotton muslin, and instead of the fantastic frock I made, he wore his waistcoat from the Victorian stroll. They’re both wearing knit head wraps I had on hand, inspired by paintings I found in Black in Rembrandt’s Time, published by the The Rembrandt House Museum.For the three-year-old, I labored over a jerkin for him as well, made in the same method as his brother’s, and using the tabs his brother didn’t want. He was willing to wear it, but flatly refused to wear anything even remotely matching or historical for the remainder of his outfit.