At long last dusk began to fall, and Wilson assembled his Warriors of Darkness ready to Trick-or-Treat the neighbourhood into submission.
The event was not without it's problems however, and a full dress rehearsal might have been wise…
• Tiny Toy's hat was WAY too big and completely enveloped him; Antony cut a couple of eye-holes in it and gave him a little torch, and TT was mollified. Somewhat…
• The sTone Brothers couldn't see where they were going… and in any case couldn't actually go anywhere as they were COMPLETELY cocooned in bandages…
• Uncle Zoltan was initially upset that he didn't have a costume but, bizarrely, was quite pleased when everyone said he was quite scary enough without one…
• Diesel's little witches' hat kept falling off and floating to the top of his bowl…
• And everyone (except the Bees) was terrified of Wilson's Vampire Fangs!
They're just heading off now — I shall follow them (inconspicuously) to make sure they don't get into any trouble.
Happy Hallowe'en, everyone!
With only one day left until Hallowe'en, Wilson is in the living room with the boys making final adjustments to his little Hallowe'en Wagon.
Antony and TT are testing the trolley seating for comfort while the Johnson Brothers are in charge of 'Sellotape Dispensating' (J.Maj) and trying to get an old torch from the Museum going again (J.Min).
Wilson has stuck a diorama scene to the side of the wagon, and he thinks if J.Min. can mend the torch to illuminate it, that would increase the 'Terrifyingness Quotient' no end.
Earlier today W asked me whether I thought he should alert the village Hospital A&E Department, in case his visits to the locals caused an epidemic of fainting. Or worse.
I told him I thought it might be best if he didn't…
To support Wilson's stated aim of making this The Best Hallowe'en Uckfield's Ever Seen, Polly and Billi have agreed to participate as well as the children.
They're in the kitchen ordering Hallowe'en Costumes for themselves and their little family — W is helping because the bees have never used PayPal before, and he wants to be certain they don't get scammed.
The costumes being considered are Top Secret… although I have heard the phrase 'Sexy Nurses' whispered once or twice. Also a lot of giggling…
Wilson has been out to his Museum [ie the Garden Shed] and pulled out his little cart.
He says he might need TWO carts this year — one to transport the Hallowe'en Revellers and another to carry all his booty home! He says that he will call this second cart his PlunderWagon!
He's out there now, sticking tiny skulls to the sides...
Wilson arrived at Tesco only to find the pumpkins sealed off behind what he later described as Zombie HazMat Tape, marked 'Caution: Zombie Zone' and 'Haunted: Keep Out.'
Ever circumspect, he found a member of staff and asked her to remove his chosen pumpkins for him. Actually, he asked her to carry them to the checkout for him as well, but she assured him that once the pumpkins were in his shopping trolley they were fully de-zombified and no longer dangerous.
When he arrived home, I had some bad news for him: the insurance company, in spite of my having Fully Comprehensive Cover on the house and its contents, had refused to pay me for the damage caused by the wasps!
I thought this was an outrage, but a little research on Google revealed that it is the standard practice of that Nest of Weasels we call the Insurance Industry — they will pay to have vermin removed, but will not pay for the damage they have caused.
Looks as though I shall be reliant of Wilson to fix the hole in the ceiling after all…
When Wilson rose this morning (a little later than usual because the clocks went back to Winter Time last night) as soon as he'd had his breakfast he ran upstairs to examine the hole in the ceiling. I was a bit unnerved to see that he'd taken his Club Hammer with him.
'Don't worry about this, New Dad!' he told me cheerfully, poking the hole with the hurty end of his hammer, 'I can have this fixed in a jiffy!'
I replied that I'd REALLY rather go down the House Insurance route first, before 'putting him to the trouble' [ie risking the whole ceiling coming down] of effecting a repair himself.
'If you're sure then,' he replied. 'I haven't got time to do it now, anyway — I must go into the village to buy some pumpkins.'
He climbed down the ladder and I helped him off the chest of drawers on which it was balanced precariously.
Once he was safely back on the floor he confided to me, 'This is going to be the BEST Hallowe'en Uckfield's EVER seen!'
While he went down to Tesco, I telephoned the Insurance Company to make a claim for the damage.
It was late by the time we arrived home and everyone had gone to bed except for Polly and Billi. Oh, and Diesel the Goldfish, but he was at least half asleep.
Wilson immediately examined the newly-equipped and -decorated kitchen and announced that it was broadly to his satisfaction, although he'd have to make a few adjustments. Obviously.
He handed the bees what remained of his seaside rock, telling them not to share it with the others because of the risk of diabetes.
Then he gave an immense and protracted yawn before asking for an update on what had happened while we were away. While he was being filled in his eyelids began to droop… and he fell asleep… standing up. I've never seen anyone do that before!
I carried him gently to the tumble dryer and popped him in for the night — there'll be plenty of time for him to catch up on what he's missed in the coming days…
