If you're from Australia, which I am, we don't celebrate Halloween. Or, if we do it it's typically a half-assed attempt that results in vows never to don a cape and hat and walk two streets for a solitary fun-sized Mars bar every again. The stores get in cobwebs and pumpkins and some parents will let their children wander around the neighbourhood to ask for candy. Do we get out houses egged if we have none? No. At least I hope not. What happened last year was that I forgot all about Halloween until twilight set in and I saw a few ghouls wander into the street. My heart leapt up into my throat (don't you love that cliché) but it did exactly that. I had bought chocolates during the weekly shop but I'd eaten them already (as you do). So I raced into the kitchen and rummaged around the pantry. All I had was muesli bars. Muesli bars. I kid you not. Kids were closing in on my house and all I could give them was a muesli bar. I told myself this was acceptable bec
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