I remember Hallowe'en and All Saints' Days as being in the calendar as quite low key events in my childhood. Sometimes, better organised parents would have some apple bobbing and games but that was it. Guy Fawkes night was the real treat for those who were allowed fireworks or who attended displays.
Latterly, the name, Guy Fawkes, was dropped by New Labour to avoid offending Catholics, though, even as a baptised Catholic, it never much bothered me.
At the same time, Hallowe'en, as an all singing, all dancing kiddifest with highly commercial overtones, has been imported from America and rampages around our streets with noise and menaces.
The most annoying feature to my mind is the presence of dopey, middle class mothers who should know better, accompanying dressed up, hyped up, capacious bucket-carrying littlies. Small imps who really should be in bed, doing their homework, having a bedtime story or sucking their thumbs.
Wrong on so many counts.
Yours sincerely,
Lilyflower the Hallowe'en Grinch. (Grrrr!)