Happy New Year!

Happy new year, everybody!
Samhain has passed. We're all on the dark side now... :o).

When I last wrote we were full of excitement about Pickle's first experience of trick-or-treating. We left treats at the bottom of our path (the route to our door being too genuinely dangerous for kids high on sweets in the dark) clenched between the teeth of a skull and lit only by the world's most menacing apple. (A Crawley Beauty, if you were wondering.)

Just before we set off, Thomas rushed to get his mask. Sadly for those of us with a sadistic sense of humour, he noticed and evicted the hibernating wasp before he put it on. But as you can see, he failed to notice the massive spider about to crawl into his eye.

Strangely, given how attractive he looks in that mask, Pickle cried and he had to take it off. Then, when we met up with our friends, one of them had full Sith face paint and she got truly terrified. Slightly mollified by being in my arms rather than in the buggy, we carried on, but every painted face caused her to cling to me in such desperate horror that we soon turned back. If I didn't know face paint existed, I'd have been running for the hills too - if only to avoid catching something!

Samhain is our anniversary of being together (five years now), so we'd planned a babysitter so we could go out once she was asleep. But, after her traumatic evening, we just couldn't bear to risk her waking without us there.

Fireworks night was far more successful, but Thomas has taken the camera to the sea, so more of that when I'm here next.

And that may not be soon. I'm in the midst of National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo to those in the know) and attempting to write 1667 words a day. As a compulsive editor, I can delete faster than I can produce words, so to give me any chance, I've resurrected a novel which I've been ignoring for months... or, actually, years. It turns out to be a) bordering on chick lit and b) bordering on good. Still trying to work out how those happen simultaneously, but that's how it is. I'm up to 11,885 words, which is on target (to save you the maths) and appreciating being online so much less. Maybe it's the 'net rather than the screen which gets to me.

If I stay on target, I'll give you an update on my progress; and if I don't, I'll make my excuses on the other side. (Now those I could write about at great length!)

Wish me inspiration!

Harvesting

Autumn's toes are getting chilly now. The fine ladies of this town are sacrificing hair for hat. The mornings are beautiful when at last they open their eyes to us.

And the colours bring joy enough to see us through to the other side.

In our school playground, apples patiently queue in an admirably English manner. Some have arrived in such number they burst from every door of a car; others are nestled in a basket with just a few friends.

All are destined to be pressed. Here Yuli Somme, felter extraordinaire and creator of the most beautiful natural woolen shrouds, blithely ignores the instructions written on the funnel - with no unfortunate consequences.

The resultant mush is packed in a stack of gridded tins lined with muslin,

each carefully wrapped,







































then squeezed by young and old working the tightening wheel. The nectar is carefully poured into bottles 

and the leftovers taken away by the firstcomer for excellent composting.

This is our freezer. More is in our fridge. More still is in our systems already, keeping the doctor away, we hope.

Fueled by this seasonal sugar bounty, we have been getting creative. Pickle spent ages using the stick end of the brush to make the most beautiful design of dots and dashes. Them she stuck the brush in the black and covered it all up. I make art because I love the process, but it is awesome to watch Pickle do it with not a scrap of regard for the finished result (or the laundry).

I followed a recipe (almost unheard of) and made perfect playdough. We stuck our fingers deep into it, giggling a bit nervously when we couldn't see them any more. We made rings. We made moons and sausages and a little teacup. Then we squidged it all back into a lump, which was the most fun part.

Other harvests have come our way. Perfect horse mushrooms from fields around an organic farm

and a bumper haul from Chagfood: pumpkins galore plus our regular veg box, and an evening of feasting, fire and Baba Yaga storytelling from Coyopa with musical accompaniment from Rima Staines (who, it turns out, can make an accordion snore!). The children claimed they weren't scared. I can only say they must be fools.

All that has got us in the mood for Hallowe'en tonight. Many years I've celebrated Samhain in a (fairly) serious and sacred way. But this year I'm creating a new ceremony. I'm taking my favourite little witch (seen here flying her broomstick backwards - maybe it's a stunt broom) trick-or-treating.

And if any children come to our door, this is what awaits them:

Happy Hallowe'en and Samhain blessings on you all. Let's make it through!