Halloween
It’s the 31st of October. With a full moon hovering eerily above, and the wind whistling through the trees it can only mean one thing. It’s time to close the curtains, switch off the lights and hide under the bed for the next 48 hours. Not to avoid visits from any ghosties and ghoulies that may come a-knocking as the witching hour approaches, but to escape the gaggle of giggling, pestering brats that are more than likely to turn up on the doorstep. Yes, trick or treaters. Why on earth do we have to put up with this ridiculous yearlannoyance that has seeped over to our shores from America. Why couldn’t it have stayed there so that I wouldn’t have to put up with the incessant ringing of the doorbell while I am trying to have dinner or catch up with Nigella’s Kitchen on the box? And I say 48 hours because if they don’t catch you on Halloween, the cheeky sods are usually at it the next day, and the day after that. In fact they can be rapping at ...