Pumpkin soup, pumpkin pie, pumpkin chutney, I even resorted to pumpkin cheesecake! Sadly, the brood threatened mutiny over the pumpkin smoothies, but hey-ho, you can't blame a gal for trying.
We finally bid the last three goodbye by carving them into lanterns, and ate out to celebrate.
Yeah, I know Halloween was ages ago now, but bear with me, I'll move on swiftly enough.
Actually, Halloween proves a trifle problematic these-days. The two eldest have long outgrown trick or treating, but they are never short of a party to find, (cue the taxi-driver cap) but naturally, they never attend the SAME party together, oh dear me no, that would make life far too easy, wouldn't it? As for little Abby, she is still keen to uphold the
Actually, I can't say as I blame her - Sam's height is only exceeded by his enthusiasm, and most folk get leery of six foot plus, highly excitable 16yr old strangers hammering their doors down at night. So I usually manage to find some hapless parent to escort Abby and her group around, freeing me up to stay home with him. He happily decorates the house, lurks behind the door clutching his bowl of sweeties, and waits excitedly for the bell to ring. It never does, mind (the drive-way is much too long) but it doesn't dampen his spirits any. By the time we take the lanterns in, he's usually on such a sugar high on the un-claimed candy, it would come as little surprise should he actually spot the Wicked Witch of the West herself, turning loop-the-loops in the sky.
This year he wanted to bake cakes for the occasion. As you know, we've had family staying, and as it was half-term, my young niece, nephew, and great-nephew were equally as keen to get in on the act. Big sis' and little sis' (aka "The Tree-hugger's") had booked themselves into a meditation and healing group for the afternoon, so it seemed an auspicious enough time for the little ones (plus Sam) to get cracking in the kitchen.
It wasn't until big sis' was half-way out the door before she tossed out over her shoulder, "Don't put any milk or butter in Chris's cakes, will you?"
How the hell do you make cakes without those two vital ingredients?
And then came the punch-line, "Same for the frosting - oh, and remember NO chocolate, either!"
(I warned you she can drive me nuts, didn't I?)
Poor Chris, it must be rotten having a nutritional allergy therapist for a granny.
Sooooooo, I abandoned the double chocolate gateaux in favour of several batches of fairy-cakes instead - one of which looked very dodgy minus all the dairy - it looked even less appetising still with the watery sugar icing the poor lad had to top them with.
T'was nothing short of child abuse!
Still, he doesn't look too fazed I guess. He's the one with the glasses. Sweet Sam? Not being daft, he excused himself from the photo (he hates the flash going off in his eyes).