As ever, my yard full of ghosts did a good job keeping the less hardy trick-or-treaters at bay. Tied to the ends of the tree branches, these are particularly effective when there is a breeze and I stand behind one of the trees and moan menacingly.
One adorable baby giraffe made up for a squad of surly zombies and a parade of Paris Hilton wannabes. What were their parents thinking?
I feel like posting a sign on the walk "NO ONE OVER THE AGE OF 10 PAST THIS POINT!" I am going to have to open an wholesale used candy store.