The day after Halloween is always a sad one for John. There is such a long build up for him, with his carefully curated ‘Shocktoberfest’ (a scary movie every night for the month of October), and then Halloween comes and it rains and only two children arrive on our doorstep. Crestfallen, John and I watched Night Of The Living Dead and pathetically went to bed at 10pm. The following day I went over to my parents’ house and my dad mentioned that he was going to the town bandshell to drop his jack-o-lantern off. It was a comment that almost slipped past me, but didn’t.
‘Why are you taking your weird unibrow pumpkin to the bandshell?’ I inquired.
‘It’s for the pumpkin parade. For the wild boars.’ My dad replied.
‘Huh? What? Are you having a stroke?’
At this point my mother clears up the confusion and explains that for the past several years, Stratford stages a pumpkin parade of hundreds, possibly thousands of lit jack-o-lanterns. The following day they are all donated to the wild boars as apparently wild boars love pumpkins. It’s weird, isn’t it? It’s not just me-right? But, I decided that it was all for a good cause, so I ran over and donated our pumpkin (there is no excuse for how shoddy my pumpkin is….I studied sculpture at university, and that was the best I could come up with -apparently yes.) I then surprised John with a quick drink at our favourite bar then headed to the pumpkin parade where I watched my 40-something husband turn into a five year old again. It was a fitting end to another Shocktoberfest.
ps- top right is Miss Moon’s favourite jack-o-lantern.