While growing up I didn't often see the humorous side of my father, mainly because of the hostilities between us. But towards the end of his life we called a ceasefire, and I visited him at his wee island cottage.
Every evening he went out to the pub, while I would stay at his place until he returned after closing time. On Halloween, he disappeared to the pub as usual. Late that night, I was sitting watching TV when the electricity suddenly went off, the door opened slowly, and a turnip lantern appeared in the doorway, going "woooo" and swaying unsteadily in mid-air.
In some countries I believe it would have been a hollowed-out pumpkin, but in Scotland the tradition is to use a turnip instead. Cheaper too. You put a candle inside, and the light shines out through the eyes and mouth.
I enjoyed my father's little joke, and next day I insisted we take some photos.
My father didn't live long enough to see all the 3-letter qualifications after my name. Rob McJ, H.N.T., O.C.D., N.P.D. and R.D.D.
This is a freelance Taoist blog.
Every true story contains a wee lie.
And every lie contains a grain of truth.
