Something has (finally!) happened with the weather this week. The whole of the country seems to have bathed in a Indian summer since late September and, frankly, I've been getting sick of it. I love frosty mornings: wrapping up all cosy in big jumpers and snuggling back into bed with purring cat shaped living hot water bottles.
Well mother nature decided to get her act together for Halloween and the air flow swung round to give us a nice blast of arctic air. The temperature starting dropping on the 31st as the trick or treaters were coming around. I like living in a neighbourhood where it is actually kids that come around - not teenagers asking for money wearing masks and hoodies. Most of them were under waist high and many had made quite an effort with their costumes. I decided to dig out my full length, hooded black velvet cape (you know the one we all have in the back of our wardrobes) and answer the door looking like that. At one point I opened the door to two little girls - they couldn't have been more than 6 or 7 - they were both struck dumb by being greeted by me in my get up. After a little awkward silence they managed to ask if I was a witch - I assured them I was, but a nice one - and then they took some sweets and scarpered. Husband's pumpkin generated considerably less trepidation, but did receive a significant number of compliments.
When Husband got home he put his wedding garb on, and I found my 6th-form red velvet ball dress; we looked a right pair! I'm glad I have a husband who likes dressing up. If only we'd had somewhere to go.
I made it back to work today after six days horizontal - bar greeting trick or treaters of course - it was good to be back in the land of the living, although it took a 500ml bottle of lucozade and a finger of fudge to get me through the day.