In an nontraditional way my block of flats celebrated bonfire night a day early. We have a bin cupboard on the outside of the block, last night some of the local kids decided it would be fun to set fire to our bin. I was in my front room at the other side of the building, when I went to take the dogs out the rest of my flat smelled of smoke. Leaving my flat and heading down the stairs it was definitely smokey. Once outside the cause was obvious as the bin had been half pulled out of the cupboard and was full of flames.
In normal emergency mode I stood like a muppet (probably Ralph the dog) and stared at it for a while before I knocked on my neighbours door and they put it out. No real damage other than to the rubbish. Oh and the fact that the dogs now have a smoked smell.
So tonight is bonfire night for real, no pretend bin fires, real inferno type fires are alight all over the country. To remember what it's all about here is the poem:
Remember, remember the Fifth of November,
The Gunpowder Treason and Plot,
I know of no reason
Why the Gunpowder Treason
Should ever be forgot.
Guy Fawkes, Guy Fawkes, 'twas his intent
To blow up the King and Parli'ment.
Three-score barrels of powder below
To prove old England's overthrow;
By God's providence [or By God's mercy] he was catch'd
With a dark lantern and burning match.
Hulloa boys, Hulloa boys, let the bells ring.
Hulloa boys, hulloa boys, God save the King!
If you don't know or remember the Guy Fawkes story I think it's the Die Hard movie where Bruce Willis travels back to the year 1605 and stops a terrorist from blowing up a government building. What you missed that one?
The girls and I are cuddled up on the sofa watching fireworks out of the window. They are totally undisturbed by the fact that outside sounds like a war zone. I was remembering November the fifth when I was young. We used to get dressed up in our wellington boots, coats, scarves, hats and gloves. So wrapped up you could barely move your arms. We'd get taken to a local bonfire and fireworks display. I mostly remember that your front would be roasting hot from the fire but your back would be freezing. You had to pick your spot so that you didn't get a face full of smoke. There would be hot potatoes and soup to help keep warm and then the high point of the fireworks. All the oohs and aahs. You'd go home freezing cold and have to get warmed by the fire or radiator.
I was wondering how many other countries celebrate a 400 year old attempt at terrorism?
