Digital Invitation for Halloween in a Catalan Farmhouse

Nine on a Tuesday, six weeks before Halloween, and the family chat has sixty messages and no answer to the only question that matters: who is coming on the 31st. The farmhouse outside Vic is booked, there are pumpkins on the step and a cousin in Berlin asking for the address for the third time. This is where a digital invitation earns its keep. You choose a design from the catalogue, put your own text and photos in it, and send the link today. No printer, no envelopes, no second trip up the track.

What follows is what to sort out before you send it: where to buy, what goes on the cover, what happens when the plan moves, and where the replies actually land.

Where to buy a digital invitation for Halloween in Catalonia

Online, at the kitchen table, at whatever hour the house finally goes quiet. You pick a design from the collection, edit the cover in test mode without paying, and pay €29.99 once when you like what you see. No subscription, no monthly fee, no shop to drive to in the next town.

• Try the cover before you pay: in test mode, type “Masía dels Avets” and “Saturday 1 November, 8pm” and check whether the mood fits your party.
• One payment of €29.99 unlocks the whole invitation. Nothing recurring, nothing to cancel in January.
• The site comes in seven languages and the invitation text can be set per language: Catalan for the grandparents, English for the cousins abroad.
• Everything runs in the browser. You install nothing, and your guests install nothing either.

How to create the invitation: the house starts on the cover, not with the pumpkins

Your family sees one photo first, so pick it like a film poster: the stone doorway at dusk, the front door half open, the carved pumpkins on the steps. You can upload up to six photos of your own, mark which one goes on the cover and swap any of them later; the frames sort out the cropping themselves. Every piece of text has its own field — label, names, date, one line, place — with a character counter, so “Saturday 1 November, 8pm” does not push the layout off the page.

And it is a web page, not a flat PDF. The scenes follow one another with music, the way you walk through a house: the hallway, the patio, the long table at the back. Each scene takes your own words and photos, so the nickname only your cousins use can sit exactly where it lands best.

If a guest still has to ask what time it starts, the invitation has not done its job.

Confirmations inside the invitation, not in a chat that never ends

Replies arrive in an ordered list inside the invitation itself, so nobody scrolls back through sixty messages to find out who is coming. You decide what the confirmation form asks, and the answers stay on the same page as the party details. Guests open the link in the browser on their phone and answer from there: no app, nothing to install, grandparents included. If you are putting food out, say what is on the table in the invitation text — the form asks what you choose to ask.

The long weekend moves plans, and the link stays the same

Someone's train arrives late, the neighbour's gate turns out to be the one on the map, and eight o'clock becomes half past. Change the time, the place or the map pin in the editor and the link stays exactly as you sent it: guests see the updated version when they open it. Digital invitations save you reprinting thirty cards the week of the bank holiday — one button publishes, and the answers keep coming. In a house at the end of a dirt track that counts double: no one is driving round the village with a stack of envelopes. Send the link in a message, add a QR code if you want one on the gate, and keep three printed copies for whoever wants paper for the box of memories. A digital invitation from Send The Joy costs €29.99, travels in one message and collects the confirmations in the same place.