Tuesday, November 28, 2006
This is where the witch lives. The big boys said so. They told us that she saw a boy stealing her apples and she caught him and ate him, then sawed off the over-hanging branches. Does she have a cauldron?
At Halloween, we made lanterns out of turnips. We dressed up as something scary and learned a scary poem or skit to say at the houses we visited. Maybe we would get an apple, a sweet or a penny. Of course, we never went to the witch's house.
One year, I made a witch's cloak, hat and broom. We went to Agnes's Granny. "Come in, come in..." and there in an armchair sat the Real Witch. Hiding under my hat, I trembled through my piece. "You did it beautifully", she said, and held out not a sweet or a penny, but a florin - 24 pennies - a month's pocket money. Don't listen to boys!
(memory book paintings)
Labels: memory paintings