That'll be treats for me then.

Driving wind, pelting rain and - let's be honest - a lack of young kids living within half a mile of my gaff, meant no trick-or-treaters tonight. So I've treated myself to a few of the spoils.

Also has a nice reminisce about Hallow e'en when I lived in this house (!) Kensington, Liverpool. After the knock at the door there would be a during which we weighed up the pros and cons of answering the door.

Sometimes it was little kids and they'd be happy with some sweets, but after about age 11 something happened...(odd spelling an attempt at the Scouse accent)...

"Trick or treat mate?"

"Here have some sweets."

"We want munnie."

"You can't have any."

"Why noh?"

"Because you can't."

"My Dad's a boxeh an' 'e'll batteh youse."

"Great. Just show him round then. Now fuck off."

Upon which both front doors would be closed and bolted (we had a nice sturdy brick porch) and we'd happily listen to the sound of bangers trying to be forced through the letterbox and bouncing off the roof.

Happy days. Wouldn't have missed it for the world and that link above really brings a tear to the eye.

Happy Hallow e'en/ Samhain/ Samhuinn youse lot o' Woolybacks.