Mr and Mrs Middle England in Ipplepen Halloween
It’s coming up to October 31st, and here we are again: bloody Halloween in Ipplepen. Children — and, let’s be honest, some of their parents — dress up as vampires, witches, and ghouls, then knock on doors demanding money or sweets.
On any other night of the year, it would be called robbery. But tonight it’s “tradition.”
Quite what the vicar makes of it all is anyone’s guess.
With the numbers involved, he must wonder whether there’s a way to convert this pagan ritual into church attendance.
Imagine it — St Andrew’s bursting at the seams every week!
Of course, he’d risk alienating the more traditional pew-warmers, but still, one can dream.
Meanwhile, the village marks the “start of winter” with barbecues, serving the usual fare alongside newly invented cocktails with names like Boiled Black Oil — a lethal mix of dark and white rum that would drop a rhino after two glasses.
Over at the Welly and Con Club, the regulars look on with stoic amusement as non-drinkers, emboldened by a couple of Halloween specials, stagger home in zig-zag fashion.
Fortunately, it falls on a Friday this year and an early finish for most.
A blessing, really, as not much productive work is likely to be done as preparation for the pagan revelries take precedence.
The consolation?
A hangover cure of reheated leftovers, cheese, and celery sticks — eaten out of an overfilled grill pan, naturally.
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