Hallowe'en At Strunsky Manor

It had been some time since I last witnessed shelling out and tricking and treating. My last three years were spent in geographical locations really not conducive to celebrating All Hallow's Eve. Last year, for instance, I was in Vladivostock hunting down an assassin by the name of Nadia Nerevko, who had tortured and killed one of my colleagues. And it was late at night, in an alley near Nabereznaya Street that we met. I took my 9mm Glock in two hands and -- oh, never mind. It was in another country, and besides, the wench is dead. So to speak. Then on to a much needed vacation in the Caucuses, until, as you know if you have been diligent in following all this, I was summarily uprooted by the Russian army.

On that point, I can tell you that I did receive a nice apology that reads as follows: "Simone, my dearest, so sorry for the eviction. I hadn't realized you were in the area. I well remember that night in Omsk -- considering what we did, how could I forget it -- and truly regret any inconvenience the invasion might have caused you." Signed: V. Putin.

Nice of him, but still....

Anyway, it turns out that Irving my butler loves Halloween, and can discourse at length on the original Celtic festival of Samhain, and the use of frightening masks in order to not be recognized by the dead (they see October 31st as party time.) Thus Irving has kept the tradition alive at my house, and the staff spent uncounted hours decorating the front and the extended driveway. No small feat -- the driveway is about a half kilometre from the municipal road -- and trick or treaters, along with their somewhat spooked out parents, were met at the front of the driveway by a series of golf carts. These were then whipped up to the front doors, and homemade candy apples distributed. These had been marked with my address and coat of arms, to ease parental concerns and to indicate that they were not dealing with a psychopath along the lines of the aforementioned Nadia Nerevko.

I watched all this with amusement, but felt a touch of nostalgia as well; it would be nice to be a little girl again, with your biggest problem being what to wear on Hallowe'en. Some of the costumes were amazing, some were charming, and one was highly original, an outfit resembling a Crayola crayon. None however, touched on the scary or the downright evil.

Wait. I lie. One lad did plumb the depths of actual horror. He wore a Dick Cheney mask.

See you soon.