A local village has an annual tradition of building scarecrows. The results are placed by the road / on public benches / leaning against lamp posts, for everyone to see. It’s obvious that a lot of work goes into them, and I’m sure it’s a lovely endeavour for the whole family. However, driving through this village at 0030 creeped the living shit out of me. *shudder*.
-----


-----
Or was it the family of blood?
All the classes in the school where my wife works made scarecrows as a competition. I saw one from the road, on top of a mound of wood chippings… I thought it was a very early Guy Fawkes. A pity I didn’t see her class effort. Apparently its the first scarecrow to be wheelchair-based, because all her class are in wheelchairs.
That did occur to me! I have decided scarecrows = not nice. There must be a word for that.