I’m about to spend our most Irish of holidays, Hallowe’en, at home in Ireland again.
Despite it’s slide towards the crass and sanitised showpiece that it as an Irish gift to America evolved all too quickly into, there is just enough that is still old about it at home that I’m likely to enjoy it.
It will be quiet for me but somewhere in there, such is its history, will be fire and death and stories and food. And spookiness that doesn’t come in a packet.
Gorilla suits and nurse uniforms won’t be necessary.
In more detail, over several posts, here’s more about Halloween in Ireland and its Irishness: