A Hallowe'en in Pictures

In quiet moments during the past few weeks, I have composed many posts in my head. Unfortunately for my poor head, the time to sit at my computer and commit these ideas to text has not been readily available. A post about Hallowe'en circles then crosses the path of a post about my latest running exploits as I try desperately to clear enough space to think about what to cook my kids for tea! For the sake of children's diets, I really need to start rounding up the wayward words and spill them out onto my computer screen.

So it begins...

I love Hallowe'en. In many ways, I prefer it to Christmas. I find skulls and spiders far more appealing than snowmen and sparkles. If it ever actually snowed at Xmas, the snowman thing would make more sense to me. Spiders and skulls ALWAYS make sense. And then there's the difference between providing  a few  trick or treat sweets compared with the outrageous expectation that we should be spending hundreds of pounds on gifts to put the same smile on the faces of friends and family. Hallowe'en all the way!

As well as dressing up, our Hallowe'en this year had spooky food (how I wish I had taken a photo of my daughter Charis sucking brain shaped jelly up through a straw)

 pumpkin carving,

 arts and crafts,

 scary story telling by torchlight

and a special adventure at local place of interest, Hawkstone Follies, where the trees are tall and gnarly, the heights are enough to make your legs wobble and the caves are dark. Perfect.

An unexpected stand out moment for me this Hallowe'en was the Mummy Contest, where 17 year old Charis and 4 year old Dylan 'volunteered' to be wrapped in toilet tissue. Dylan refused to leave his bandages  on long enough to be properly photographed but game Charis had a little dance in hers to show the look off to full effect. The real fun started after the loo paper was shed and Dylan decided that "a sandpit of Mummy skin" was excellent fun!

The pumpkins are now in the compost and costumes and decorations are packed away in the loft for another year. There are probably still traces of bog roll under the sofa.