Remember, remember!
The fifth of November,
The Gunpowder treason and plot;
I know of no reason
Why the Gunpowder treason
Should ever be forgot!
People often ask me what I miss about living in England. The list is long, but one thing that I really miss is Bonfire night. I miss the build up to it- the fireworks that can be seen and heard for weeks leading up the the fifth. I miss huddling up on the Stray, enjoying the heat from the enormous bonfire, surrounded by anonymous strangers in the dark, all of us wrapped up in hats and scarves, eyes on the sky. I miss seeing Catherine wheels whir, and toffee apples in Morrisons, sprinkled with hundreds and thousands. I miss opening our loft window as wide as we could and leaning out into the night a to see how many fireworks we could spot. I miss the smell of smoke that engulfs the air on that one night a year.
I'm always determined to do something on the fifth to mark the occasion; it should never be forgot, after all. Something usually gets in the way- my horrendous memory for one thing- but this year, with Rebecca here to remind me, it actually happened. Since it was still 78 degrees, hats and scarves were hardly necessary. And, since we have a small patio that overlooks our neighbours an impromptu bonfire was out of the question; as were fireworks, since they're illegal at this time of year, and all.
To mark the occasion we cooked up a batch of toffee apples, and since we'd been out on the Indian Reservation only a few days earlier, en route to Valley of Fire, we'd picked up a stash of sparklers, which we burned in lieu of a Guy.
They were running a special offer at the Indian Firework Shop and Ryan couldn't resist. He bought ten boxes of sparklers and got ten free, thinking of the hours of sparkler fun we could enjoy. In the end, not as much enjoyment as he'd anticipated. We lit the sparklers, only to find that rather than sparkle they smoked. They gave off a little flame that smoked, and smoked, and smoked. We thought that perhaps we'd just got a bad batch with our first box, but four boxes later they showed no signs of improvement.
Ryan was determined that he could write his name with them, but we decided that smoke trails didn't count.
I'm pretty sure we're all going to wind up with asthma, but on the upside, we got to enjoy the smoky air that's supposed to accompany the 5th of November. And just think, we have about 1000 more of those rubbish sparkles that I can burn to my hearts content next time I feel like I'm missing out on the Bonfire action!
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