The richer, the meaner.

We have an early start today, the mobile dog groomer is coming to Cherry to bath Teddy and we have to get him back for eleven. The grooming is a waste of time, as rabbits and brambles will soon undo her good work. We do a shorter walk this morning, through the woods, up to the Mill and back across the common. The sky is overcast, with a stiff breeze out of the Southwest, but it is not unpleasant. I phone my friend Felicity, to see if she is going to the Poppy seed and when she confirms this, agree to meet her there at about half past ten. On our way back to the car we see Claire's husband, John, with their baby boy, George, and Poppy, their dachshund. Claire is a friend from the running club, a graphic designer, who works from home, her husband specialises in renovating older properties in Beverley town centre. After dropping the dogs back at Two Riggs, Norman and I arrive at the Poppy Seed, shortly before ten thirty, Felicity is already there, so we join her and order tea. I am still in my dog walking gear, muddy boots included, Norman sits on my knee as Felicity and I exchange news. She has fallen out with her daughter Melissa because she was over an hour late and kept her waiting. Melissa is always late, she has her own time zone an hour to the west of the rest of us, you could set your clock by her. She is also a loving daughter, who really looks out for her mum. Mums and daughters, always a power struggle! Hannah arrives after ten minutes and tells us that she is taking Barbara, another friend, to Castle Hill hospital tomorrow for her operation. Barbara is Danish and a force of nature, she looks out for everyone. Later, as I lend Felicity my "Viking Arm", (her phrase, not mine"), to walk her home, we comment that we must ensure that we in turn, look out for Barbara, whenever the time comes that she may need help. After seeing her safely home, we retrace our steps to North Bar, where I parked near Sarah's house and then drive home. I am taking Louis trick or treating tonight and it is time to start work on the "Jack O' Lantern", and the pumpkin pie. The pumpkin is soon scooped out and eyes and mouth incised, I make holes to either side and string an old bootlaces through them, the only candle I have is a lavender aromatherapy tea light, I doubt that the scent will bother Louis. It hangs beautifully from the hook on the telescopic clothes prop from the garden, that I carry into the kitchen. That task completed, I start on the pie, there is a recipe from Anthony Worrell Thompson on the BBC food website, which I adapt slightly. Pumpkin doesn't taste of much, so I decide to compliment its orange colour, with orange essence, as well as some cinnamon, ginger, cloves and allspice. I also use sweetener rather than brown sugar. Louis gets hyper with too much sugar and I try to avoid it, wherever possible, as well. The filling is rich and calorie dense in any case, as it has two eggs and double cream whipped into the pumpkin flesh. There is enough mixture to make two nine inch pies, or flans, and they turn out quite well. The orange flavour complimenting the warmth of the ginger and spices. While the oven is still hot I use the last of my pork pie mixture and make two more individual pies in ramekins. Norman has a little Baker's dry dog food for lunch and I Cheshire cheese and tomato baguette. After lunch, I intend to swim, but then remember it is half term and the pool will be full of inflatable castles. Instead, I meditate and afterwards, much refreshed, put away all the baking gear and clean the kitchen, before giving Norman dinner and then walking him down to the bridge. Darkness is settling over the fields and to our east there are stacks of hay bales, six or seven bales high, in the fading light they look like the megalith that stands at Rudston, not far from Bridlington. When better to connect our distant past with the present than Halloween ? We return home to Green Lane, I put Norman on the back seat of the car and then load the pies and Halloween gear in the boot and drive to Sarah's house in North Bar, arriving a few minutes before she returns from Hector's House with Louis and Alice. We share the pumpkin pie, which Sarah compliments with a dollop of vanilla ice cream, and then Louis and I set off to "trick or treat", while She and Alice pack for their trip to London tomorrow. The wind has picked up considerably and the lavender candle in the Jack O' Lantern keeps blowing out and has to be constantly relit, Louis has procured a rubber Ghoul Mask for me, which is kind of him, but it is uncomfortable and makes my glasses steam up. Apart from blowing out, the lantern works well, Louis knocks on doors, and I raise Jack high above the window to look in on prospective donors. Beverley is quite a prosperous town, but the more wealthy the house, the less likely they are inclined to join in the fun. We relocate from the affluence of North Bar, to the more modest residents of Wood Lane, Woodlands and Westwood Road, here there are more children about, doing the same thing and by exchanging marketing information with other parents, we find out the houses that are participating. As our success rate improves, Louis becomes ever more enthusiastic, and by the time we head home, he has a large bag full of goodies. He goes to bed tired and happy, having been persuaded to save most of his booty for his trip to the capital. I leave Sarah and Alice to their packing around seven thirty, drive home and make some salad to accompany my pork pie, which I eat to the accompaniment of the rest of the Shiraz. Outside the wind is howling through the trees and heavy rain is driving against the windows, at least it held off whilst we were out. Andrew sends a text to say he can't make the cinema tonight as he has just got back from work. I had asked if he wanted to Orange Wednesday Skyfall with me last Monday. "Timon of Athens", is showing at Cineworld tomorrow, it's not live theatre, but perhaps the next best thing. I will see how things go.