In which I forsake fashion to wear fluorescents
Okay, so you know my views about Halloween. I did it all last year with C, walking round to a few friends with Little C, Lou and the fellas, but meh. I mean, I know it’s probably my Englishness (we just don’t DO Halloween), but what is it with all these hideous plastic skeletons and crap? Not that I give a poo about what religion anyone is, but I can’t help but find it quite ironic that Irish people embrace this weird pagan festival so readily. ‘It’s for the KIDS’, said Mrs Lovely yesterday (I took a chilli round as they were babysitting Mr Lovely’s adorable 6 month old niece). ‘I don’t care’, I said, eyeing her as she picked out all the kidney beans, ‘I just don’t get it. I mean, you send your children round to people’s houses to beg for sweets? WHY? Last year we got a load of half arsed teenagers setting fireworks off on the lawn – it’s just an excuse for them to piss about.’
Anyoo, the whole weekend saw hundreds of people head up here for the Pumpkin Festival in nearby Virginia, the thrilling climax of which was a fireworks display over the lough. The Lovelies somehow persuaded me and #2 (#1 wasn’t having any of that and Hubby was away working) to walk (yup, walk) all the way down the boat road to the lough to watch the fireworks. Now Mr Lovely being a fireman and all, had us all suited and booted in fluorescent gear, with flashing armbands and everything, but even so, blimey it was dark (bain’t no street lights in these parts, my lover). And a bit spooky. ‘There’, I said to #2, this is scary enough, who needs Halloween?’
So we finally got to the end of the road (I never walk to the end – Bert would collapse with the shock) and the fireworks were absolutely awesome: they not only whooshed and banged, like normal fireworks, but they swirled and squiggled and fizzled and all sorts of clever stuff too. Quite a few people decided to drive down to the lough shore, rather than drive round the lough to the festival. An extremely bad idea down a little one-track lane. They all got stuck, and we strutted past them all cocky and flashing and fluorescent, as they reversed back up, trying in vain to find somewhere to turn round.
A great night – and a great adventure for the kids. There, I’ve done my bit. Just don’t come trick or treating at English Towers. I don’t wish to join.
Sorry, couldn’t help that.
I love fireworks; we’ll have ours on Friday in Ennniskillen. Funny this year–our kids never cared much about Halloween but now suddenly it is THE THING.
Don’t think we haven’t noticed the “shining star of wonderful gorgeousness” thingy appearing suddenly up above. I mean, its not that we disagree, in fact quite the opposite, but just saying… we’re taking note.
More unabashed paganism with Wren Boys tearing around the town begging cash from all and sundry!
” The wren, the wren, the king of the birds,
Was hunted down and caught in the furze.
Although he is small, his family is great,
Please missus landlady, give us a treat!”
‘Treat’ is pronounced to rhyme with ‘great’ and your lads are the PERFECT age for wren boys! Gather a gang of boys, teach them the rhyme, dress ‘em up like a pack of hobos and send them around to the neighbours to get cash for a local charity.
Don’t be a nelly – embrace the scary customs of Rome! LOL!!
Sandra: Ah, nothing gets past you, girl. It was a comment from Wee Jen that I kind of took to. I’m still due for a ‘refit’ but I can’t decide what I want, so you’re stuck with pink zebra stripes for a while longer x
Aussie: Har de har! Actually, by the time we got home I was very bloody hot! And my hat came in very handy thank you xx
Jen: What’s that, Boxing Day? And have you been smoking that stuff that Moon mentioned again?! x
I’m no fan of the trick or treating either. But you just know that if you don’t give them something then you’re likely to get something umpleasant through the letterbox. Which was called blackmail, the last time I checked. Bah humbug!
Wee One: I know! I keep referring to it as Bonfire Night and they all look at me as if I’m crackers. Luckily, we live in the middle of nowhere so we only get people we already know. Still, if I stay in this year (doubtful) I’m going to make pumpkin-shaped biscuits and hand them out on a tray when they come to the door. That’ll stop their little e-number crazed fun. Heh.
I don’t understand it. All those plastic toys and pumpkins .. I mean, why pumpkins? What are they for?
Oh, and please don’t enlighten me. I really don’t want to know! LOL!
Jay: Nope, I’ve absolutely no interest. I’m all pumpkined out after the festival anyway. And I prefer butternut squash anyway, it’s sweeter!
Halloween IS Irish by definition though… although I think it was hollowed out turnips (swede) that they used to haul around!
In my day in 80s Dublin we used to say “Help the Halloween party” instead of Trick or Treat. But yeah, I agree with you about going around with the kids. Ugh. I let himself do that and I get dressed up all scary and hand out lighters and cigarettes to the kids knocking on the door! 
Have a look here:
http://www.pumpkinfestival.ie
I’ll send the kids round yours then, Deb