Spooky or what!
When I looked out of my kitchen window this morning I saw a ghost. Honestly, I kid you not. It was actually a large, silver-glittery, ghost-shaped balloon
floating above the garage of one of the houses across the road. How very Hallowe'en! Last year, regular readers may recall, I grew quite ridiculously fond of a life-size skeleton pinned in all its Boney Loveliness on the door of the house opposite. He hasn't
returned this year. I wonder what happened to him? Hopefully it wasn't anything Grim and Grisly.
As I have surely mentioned in previous blogs, Mr B and I disagree on our response to Hallowe'en. His approach
is to deter all possible trick or treaters from darkening our doorstep by every possible means. We need (he says) to turn down the lights, draw the curtains and hide under the table, for all the world as if we are back in the times of the Great Depression
and need to avoid the unwelcome attentions of the rent collector.
Me, I'd be quite happy for a sweet little ghoul or ghostie to turn up at our door. Though I am led to believe that, in order to prove that
we are up for a visit, I would first need to carve a pumpkin and instal it on our doorstep, in the place where the Giant Penguin stands to welcome visiting grandchildren. Facebook has been full of wonderful photographs of carved pumpkins for at least a week
now so I have no excuse for my failure to engage in Pumpkin-Related Activity - apart from the fact that Mr B would certainly have had something to say about it.
I have, however, retrieved a rather scary looking
witch on a stick which I was given last year (it came with a plant, in case you're wondering why anyone would have given me such a present and were they trying to tell me something) and have stuck it in the plant pot on our doorstep. I have also invested a
considerable amount of cash (£1 at the Co-op) on a packet of chocolate tea cakes, wrapped in black paper decorated with red and white devils. At least I think they're devils. The horns are a bit of a giveaway.
The trouble is, it's after 6 p.m. already and we have had no takers. I'm not sure it will be good for us if we have to hoover up the tea cakes on our own...
There is a care home in Worthing, I am pleased
to note, which has issued an open invitation to any trick or treaters to visit tonight, with the promise of a warm welcome from staff and residents alike plus treats galore. Well done to whoever came up with that Idea. That's the kind of place I'd like to
live if, some time in the future, it should become necessary. How lucky the residents are, not to be left out of the Hallowe'en fun.
I can, of course, take delight in other people's Hallowe'en Experiences.
I travelled home from town on the bus this afternoon with two excited little devils, each clutching a small orange bucket with which to collect their spoils. I'm not sure where they were headed but their excitement was infectious. The whole bus-load of passengers
were grinning at the sight of them. I've enjoyed the photographs of my (Not So Very Little) Welsh boys and their friends carving pumpkins and of my sister visiting a pumpkin farm with her grandchildren in preparation for a marathon Pumpkin Carving Session.
Plus, have you ever seen a more adorable witch than my Tala, the elder of the Twinkles?
There's nothing for it - next year I must engage my Inner Ghoul. I must float a ghostly balloon over my garage, pin a
Boney One on my door, and carve pumpkins with pride and panache for display on my doorstep.
Failing all that, I suppose I shall just have to join Mr B under the table...