Fireworks/Bonfire/Guy Fawks Night

I don’t know if this is only in England but “remember, remember the 5th of November” (or, as my friend thought it was, the “3rd of November”) is to celebrate when a bloke tried to blow up English parliament a few hundred years ago and got caught so was stopped. So basically, an excuse to let off lots of fireworks, have bonfires and generally keep your neighbours awake until you have run out of fireworks to set off and frightened the bananas out of small children and dogs to last you another year.

I was going through my old diary from this time last year, before I got this blog, and thought I’d share with you my last fireworks night. The writings a little off but I think what it lacks in grammar it makes up for in telling you about my mad family.

“We had fireworks in the evening which were very pretty but also slightly dangerous given the fact that we put the pot with the fireworks in next to a bit of tree that fell down in the storm.

We had one called ‘Rising Phoenix’ which took a while to light since dad had the match upside down. When he got it lit he ran back up our garden and we watched as a light flew into the air, popped into a little red shower of sparkliness and then there was a soft thud in the neighbours hedge.

Then dad lost the sparklers but we found them by the kettle so we lit them and started doing the usual of writing our names, then doing a random pattern and then did a little dance with what was left. I accidentally walked into a tree because it was so dark, but then I could see where I was going because a sparkler went flying through the air. It was a ‘trick’ of dads where you flip it up in the air when it is nearly out, but unfortunately his wasn’t nearly out at all and was merrily sparkling away in the hedge. Being the safety concious parents they are they stood and watched quietly as we heard a faint sizzling sound, then when they couldn’t see it anymore we all went inside. Mum had had a lot of mulled wine but dad had no excuse.

We came back inside and I walked into the French doors because dad had shut them and it was dark inside as well as outside. We couldn’t find the lamp on the table but we eventually thought of turning on the light switch, something no-one ever seems to think of in horror movies. You’re in a house you know is haunted, you think ghosts come out in the dark, yet you lie there in bed shaking with fear in the pitch black! Utterly lacking in common sense, but that’s drama for you. Too lazy to use lights.

We sat around a fire eating mint matchmakers (this fire was in the fireplace, it was intentional) and tried to blot out the sound of mum reading her Christmas Good Housekeeping out loud to us. It is November, and Christmas begins in December (or September in Sainsburys) so we don’t have to listen. Especially as I have lost all my money for Christmas presents and I am getting suspicious.”

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