Monday, 11 November 2013

Remember, remember, the 5th of November...

Nobody seems to mention Guy Fawkes by name anymore - I haven't seen any children in the street huddled round a heap of badly stuffed clothes, calling out 'Penny for the guy?', for years, and I'm not aware of any bonfires round here, let alone one with a 'Guy' plonked on top. For the young 'uns it is simply 'Fireworks night', although the fireworks are never confined to just one night. When we lived in London there were weeks of fireworks late into the night, for Guy Fawkes night, and for Diwali, the Hindu festival of light.

Here, the town's fireworks display was held on Sunday, so we stood at the window and watched from the comfort (and warmth) of home - all the noise and light, but maybe lacking a bit in atmosphere! We went to our friends next door on November 5, for sparklers and fireworks - perhaps not quite as spectacular, but more like the 'real thing'. When I was young a Catherine Wheel would be pinned to the coal-cellar door, and rockets and roman candles lit, one by one, in the back garden - and the fireworks were kept, for safety, in a tin box. These days one fuse sets off a whole firework display in your back garden - over in moments, but perhaps with less of an element of danger. Nice, tho'!

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