A hollowed-out pumpkin, with an evil grin and squinty eyes, glows in the window of the house next door.
Mr Champagne-Charlie sits behind the letter box, armed with a bucket of sweets and wearing a gorilla mask.
Three young trick or treaters, who I swear are Pelly Sheepwash, Mrs Bancroft and the fragrant Mrs Putter gone backwards a few times on Ray Bradbury's carousel, beam when I give them some fun-sized Mars Bars and a packet of Maltesers.
And then they go next door, and, by the pricking of my thumbs, I hear a blood-curdling scream.
'Oobee doo, I wanna be like you-oo-oo,' Champagne-Charlie sings from behind the mask. But it is a muffled mix of latex and tone deafness.
The three little maids from school hot foot it up the road, the treats flying in their wake.
That's about it.
Love Maddie x
The Beetle’s trundled more than eighteen hundred miles across Italy and France, with cars and lorries tooting both in frustration (it takes...
The mist swirls down from Dorset's highest point as I drive along dark country lanes into town. It is appropriate weather for the B...
Once upon a time, a long time ago, I was a child in a meadow with a woodland circle of beech trees around me. And there was clover growing i...
Just before 11 o'clock, I'll get up out of my chair and stare out at our village square. It's rainy now, the tarmac is drenched ...
Once upon a time, when I was fit, I cycled up to the most wonderful place on earth. It's in West Dorset and, when you get to the to...