A quiet night in

This is a Japanese kimono from 1840-1860, on show in the V&A, London. The Japanese are really good at horror and the supernatural. Remember all those truly scary films?

Did I tell you about the health care worker who went around the table in the pub garden last week, embracing and kissing everyone in turn until she got to me? I held her off at arm's length, and she took it as a personal affront that I was trying my best not to bring the virus home to H.I. Well, she was born on October 31st, so today is her birthday.

She is planning on going to a local bar (hedge-fund chain again) with a group of friends, because the bar offers an 'all you can drink for £30' deal, and she can drink an awful lot. This horrible bar is only a few yards away from our house, and every night great crowds of dolled-up slappers women fall out onto the pavement, screaming and shouting their way to the next pub. It's like a permanent hen party. Some of them take their last drink with them into the street if they haven't finished it. Boris will close it for a while as of sometime next week, but in the meantime everyone is going to make the most of it being open by blatantly ignoring all the Covid rules in one go. On Monday - when Boris will make the announcement - she will go back to work, visiting all the elderly and vulnerable people she is supposed to take care of. Call me a spoilsport, but I think someone should have a loud word in her ear.

Halloween will be an even quieter affair for us in the compact but adorable city apartment than it usually is. Of course, we will go through the usual rituals which we observe every year - summoning the dead, sacrificing chickens, dancing around a blazing fire, etc. - but the old magic seems to have gone out of it for now. Maybe it will all get back to normal in 2021.