Every good blog should, on occasion, permit oneself to fall off the proverbial wagon and indulge in a little holiday fun. And in today’s case, it is (somewhat) my American husband’s longing for some good old nostalgia that nudges me into Halloween territory. As a child his parents would take him and his siblings to a local farm to “pick” a pumpkin and he would relish in the “bottomless 25c apple cider” as well as partaking in some other culinary fun. I’m sure a cart with cute kids, and oversized pumpkins, was an obligatory component too. Being Irish and from a fairly cynical family, we don’t have such traditions to reminisce over but having a family of my own and being married to the quintessentially wistful American, I am bound to admit defeat and surrender to all things Halloween. And so it was with a little trepidation we drove to Crockford Bridge Farm in Surrey where we savoured the delights of country living and enjoyed all that this fantastic farm had to offer. The farm has a wonderfully wide array of pumpkins in a variety of shapes and sizes. It was a visual feast of orange, gold and yellow and simply perfect. This week they are also offering half-term fun with story telling in the woods. The city slicker part of me was dubious but it was a delight and my son loved it. All of it. He chose his own pumpkin and enjoyed everything with an infectious enthusiasm that one can’t help loving.