We had a lovely, low-key, halloween-tinged weekend. Saturday was the busiest day; Sunday was pretty lazy.
Preparations commenced on Thursday when I harvested our crop of butternut squashes from the garden. Both were looking mighty tasty...
...but size left a little to be desired, as evidenced when compared to an average-sized pumpkin:
No matter. The pumpkin and the ripe butternut went into the big pot, along with some onion, garlic, potatoes and red peppers. Left to simmer for a few hours, then blended, we had our soup for Saturday.
And like clockwork, Saturday came around. The day started with a visit to Baildon to see Dean and Rachel. Andrew and Michelle were also there, and both Olive and Scarlett were dressed appropriately for the time of year.
Whilst there we met the Viponds new daughter Isabella, who was mainly asleep and most definitely gorgeous.
Then we drove home, The three Davies' couldn't fit into our car so took the train to Leeds, and I went to pick them up. I was concerned enough about the demonstrations that were taking place in nearby City Square to take the back way to the station. There were lots of police around and a couple of helicopters, but no sign of either the English Defence League or the Unite Against Facism. On the way home I decided to go through town, and we were amazed at the number of police on the streets.
The rallies had now dispersed but the police were clearly taking no changes. Clusters of police stood about on every corner, and most of the roads around Greek Street were double-parked with police vans. We felt at once safe and apprehensive.
Back home, we ate soup, and then left Gemma's mum in charge of Olive and Scarlett. We four headed to Bradford to see Daniel Kitson. His current stand-up show is loosely about death and ran for an hour and a half. Of course it was absolutely funny. Wearing a relatively trimmed beard and shorter hair, he looked like a younger Bill Bryson.
Afterwards we had a little difficulty getting out of the multi-storey car park; something had caused a delay, and now there was a large queue of cars lined up at the single exit barrier. It was one of those car parks where you pay before getting into your car; you leave by surrendering your ticket at the barriers. To avoid mis-use, you have something like fifteen minutes from the time you pay to get to the barrier. But it was soon clear that the cars in the queue were taking longer than this to reach the front. Confusion reigned. Some bystanders loitered at the barrier, passengers got out of cars and waived tickets. But luckily nine police forces were not required in this instance, as some remote controller opened the barrier just as we reached the front.
Sunday was scrambled eggs on toast and sitting around chatting. Apart from taking the Davies' back to Wakefield at lunchtime, and popping into the shops for supplies, Sunday was a day for lounging with the family.