Huntley & Palmer biscuit tins from Christmasses past, packed full of assorted fireworks. Hats, scarves, gloves, toes snug in wellies, sparklers ... our names momentarily glowing in the air. Orange flames licking towards a starry night sky. A saggy, baggy, newspaper guy dressed in Dad's old trousers, flakes of grey ash twirling on a November breeze. Dad bent double at the bottom of the garden reaching for reluctant touch papers ... rockets blasting unpredictably from milk bottles sunk into flower beds, Catherine wheels flaring on fence posts, Roman candles fizzling ... girlish squeals, eyes bright.
As kids we loved Guy Fawkes night.
Stuart and I wrapped up warmly on Saturday, then stepped out into the night with my kids and Stuart's grandson, for a clomp down the road to watch Allington's community firework display. We stopped at Humphrey's fish 'n chip shop along the way to warm ourselves with tasty battered sausages and fresh-cooked chips, then joined the local crowds in celebrating Guy Fawkes' night in traditional style.
Remember, remember the Fifth of November,
The Gunpowder Treason and Plot,
I know of no reason
Why Gunpowder Treason
Should ever be forgot.
Guy Fawkes, Guy Fawkes, t'was his intent
To blow up King and Parli'ment.
Three-score barrels of powder below
To prove old England's overthrow;
By God's providence he was catch'd
With a dark lantern and burning match.
Holloa boys, holloa boys, let the bells ring.
Holloa boys, holloa boys, God save the King!
I know we're experiencing challenging economic times globally, but sharing tradition binds families together and for me, that's what Guy Fawkes Night is truly all about.
If you would like to learn more about Guy Fawkes, please visit the link below: