It may not be a popular opinion, but I am always glad to see the back of Halloween as it is the first symbol of the beginning of winter for me. The sheds are full of cattle once more, and the annual and somewhat fruitless hunt for genuinely waterproof clothing has begun in earnest. The child, however, loves the whole All Hallows Eve scene. His costume choices are always unusual; last year, he was a corn field killer. This year he dressed up as Freddy Krueger, complete with knifed glove and stripey jumper.

When he was much younger, he went to the playschool Halloween party dressed as Frankenstein. I painted his entire face a lurid shade of green for the occasion, and was horrified when my attempts to remove the face paint afterwards completely failed. He was green for about three weeks, which was almost as horrifying as his outfit.

Pyrotechnics

Halloween also brings fireworks, which can be very difficult to manage for livestock and pet owners. Thankfully this year the parish pyrotechnics were a muted affair, and the horses didn’t seem too concerned.

The concurrent clock change is always a nightmare for everyone, with the sleep patterns and stomach clocks of all children and animals being affected. I am trying hard to remain positive - we only have to make it to the winter solstice on 22 December before the days begin to stretch out again, and we can dream of summer, silage, and shows once more.

I generally find it more difficult to summon the enthusiasm for competing at dressage shows during the winter, as it can feel borderline unreasonable asking a horse to perform calmly with hail drumming against its forehead and a gale under its tail. Show jumping tends to suit the conditions a little better, as effervescent and enthusiastic boinging around is a prerequisite.

That being said, I have now stepped both myself and my lovely grey mare up a level in the dressage arena. I had expected this to be an underwhelming event, but it went surprisingly well and I therefore now feel obliged to suck it up and get on with it gratefully.

The one bright spot on the seasonal horizon is of course, Christmas. I am one of those weirdos who would happily put the tree up on 1 November, and break out the catchy Christmas songs. How can anyone feel miserable when singing about Santa?