It’s Halloween

Traditionally, we have carved our pumpkins by Halloween night and happily light the tea candles within to enjoy their macabre faces while we eat grilled cheese sandwiches and tomato soup. Because of the recent craziness, our time available to carve was today. Before Eamon came along, I made Mark carve pumpkins with me. Poor soul. Create darn it!

But they do it every year without question to entertain me.

The tongue out! I actually caught it on film. Fiona does it too when she’s concentrating.

These are the offerings from 2007.

And other years. I always get a picture. Although they do seem to be looking the same each year.

And I can’t always get around to doing something like this.

Or this. I tried this year but everything just fell short of time to be inspired.

Last year’s pictures will have to do.

The wooden bowl is a love love love from the little shop in town called Joviality.

Last year, we celebrated our anniversary in Easton with a rockin’ dinner at Out Of The Fire and dessert at the Tidewater Inn.

I loved their piled up pumpkin and gourds above the outside fireplace.And this year, on Marks’ birthday, we happened to be in St Michael’s, Maryland, one town beyond.

They do a marvelous job of being festive for the holiday and for the tourists.

Jewelry store ?

I could do without these scarecrows but the witch is creative.

We were amused. Like herding kittens I’d imagine.

My lunch dates in St. Michaels.

And then on the way up 328, the Denton Easton road, we see this guy. Well done. When his coat was flapping in the wind, he was creepier.

Lest we forget the reason for the Halloween season which is to add a little fright to our night.

Thanks to everyone for keeping with me on the 31 Days of Pretty Pictures. And for voting for me in the Circle of Mom Bloggers contest.

I doubt I’ll do either again but it was a really great experience for me. I’ll be talking all about what I got out of it soon enough.

Happy Halloween.

Now to take care of a little special event I have to decorate.

Love Ya’,

Shalagh