One good thing about living on the boat is that greedy little kids in their flimsy, ill fitting, ill advised, non-frightening costumes don't knock on your door all night screaming, "Trick or treat" in a high pitched voice, with their spindly legs and their teeth bigger then their face. They then stick their greedy little hands into the jar of sweets that you had to specifically drive out to the Co-Op to buy earlier in the day just to placate the little buggers.
There's little chance of them walking down a dark, scary, muddy tow path (or at least it's unlikely their inevitably accompanying brow beaten parents would be bothered). Thank goodness for small mercy's.
Terri is arriving tomorrow and the the outlaws are visiting on Sunday and they're all expecting a traditional Sunday lunch. Stew again then.