Katie Pumpkinhead’s Pumpkin Patch

  Post-Halloween depression is something I've dealt with for my most of my life.  Even when I was much younger and didn't have the language to describe how I was feeling, I remember the agonizing feeling of knowing I would have to wait another year upon returning home for the evening on October 31st. There were many Halloween nights where I would cry that it was over, or go to bed wishing the Halloween night I'd just experienced was a dream, so that I could wake up and do it all over again for real. There was the year I tried to extend it with  Halloweek , and the year when I was  fourteen , when I think I really started to figure out how to express it, and recognize the longing that I felt all year round. I even once started writing a story about a little girl discovering she was actually a witch, after grappling with post-Halloween depression for several years in a row.  This has always been who I am.  But recently I saw something that bothered me a bit, ...

Here we stand, at the edge of summer. It's that time of year again, when seasonal depression kicks in and the only consolation is the promise of Halloween soon hitting store shelves. This year, more retailers seem to be getting into the spirit of "Summerween", offering actual spooky themed summer merchandise, particularly bedding. I've seen sheets and pillows from TJMaxx , and blankets from Walmart . It's not a motif that I, personally, can really get into, but I'm happy that it exists. Nothing makes me happier than seeing the normalization of being spooky all year round. I'd like to think that soon it will be commonplace for a sheet ghost or skeleton to pop up on different holiday decor throughout the year. Valloween has already caught on, and Summerween seems to be the new thing, so why not Creepmas, Springoween, etc.? I have always said that for me, personally, Halloween is just my style, and is no different to me than it is for other people that decora...

 Five years ago today, I started this blog.  I've never truly been one for "New Year's resolutions", or New Year's at all, really, but just before 2020, I promised myself that I would start blogging again. I've loved to write since I was six years old. I very clearly remember the first little "picture book" I put together. I had actually just watched an episode of Lamb Chop's Play-Along,  where Shari Lewis gave instructions on how to make a little flip book of sorts of a girl jumping rope. I've always been a DIY disaster, so my attempt at recreating this little scene did not go according to plan. It frustrated me, but I somehow got the idea to turn it into a story that I titled "Jill's Bike". I don't remember the specifics of the story, but I believe it was about a girl, obviously named Jill, getting frustrated with her attempts to jump rope, and finally deciding to go and ride her bike instead. It was a short little story, ...

 In 2018, I thought I was dying. It wasn't a health scare, at least not a physical one.  I was losing myself. 2018 was a truly transitional time for me. At the time, I was living with my parents, along with my boyfriend at the time, who I'd been with for over a decade. They say you never know what the next day is going to bring, and April 2018 was proof of that.  Around the middle of the month, I made the decision to end my relationship, for several reasons, one being complicated feelings I had for someone else. I was in the process of figuring all of that out, when, not more than a week later, my father abruptly decided it was time to retire, put the house up for sale,  and move to Florida.  I don't do well with change on a good day. But dealing with all of this at once was rough. I was facing a breakup, a possible new relationship, and suddenly potential homelessness, all at once. (If you know me at all, you'll understand that moving to Florida was never a con...