Anyway, my Grammar Nazi has been temporarily subdued and I've tidied away my shiny jackboots and Springtime for Hitler song sheet. Today it's all about Hallowe'en.
It's just about my favourite time of the year and when Tartarus is away, Sonshine and I go the Full Nine Yards for Hallowe'en spookiness. This year we had a skull with flashing eyes to add to our collection of pumpkin bowls and 'ghoul' lights (thank you Wendy!) and the house was looking suitably scary.
However, we had a lot to get through before our Hallowe'en was done: Sonshine was going out for his Hallowe'en with the Meerkat - dressed as The Honey Monster and the Cookie Monster. The Meerkat's mother is a dab hand with the sewing machine and she just ran up a couple of fabulous costumes.
She makes me feel about as domesticated as a field mouse.
Just one of those people who are effortlessly good at everything they do.
I am surprised that we are still friends. Maybe she pities me :-)
Anyway I had some Tarot readings booked in the local bookshop and the lovely Karen had suggested that I dress up. Now, as Chairman of The Tarot Association of The British Isles, I spend a lot of my time defending Tarot as a skill and persuading people that we are not all gypsy fortune tellers.
And this was me preparing for my Tarot reading gig:
stereotypical? Not moi!
There were seven reading slots available and they were all sold out.
Although each reading was scheduled to last around 15 minutes, it takes a lot out of you (especially when you've not done face to face readings for quite a long time). By the time 8.30pm came, I was pooped, but happy. Karen and I might do something similar again soon :-)
Once we were back home and Sonshine was showered (it's a very sweaty being a cookie monster) and in his bed, I could turn my attention to the real focus of the night - my Samhain ritual.
This time of year is when I remember all my dead relatives - the ancestors - who stretch far back into time, each of them paving the way for ME. From unknown faces in old sepia-toned photographs who once laughed and loved and were vibrantly alive to those further back, utterly forgotten to memory, they are all important to me.
To you too.
Their choices enabled US to be who we are today. So what harm does it do to pour them a little sherry and then tell them that you appreciate them once a year?
A little prayer is offered up for the spirits of those who have gone before, and I toast them. Then the sherry is poured on the earth outside.
Mad? Maybe. But then, I have got a pain au chocolat called Kevin in the bread bin. And no, I didn't dress him up for Hallowe'en.
But enough of me, what did YOU do for Hallowe'en?! Spill!