[a little bit early]
We supported our local Rotary Club last night by toddling down to FlatHickTown Community College and ooohing and aaahing at the fireworks.
Except there was no ooohing and aaahing because nobody seems to oooh and aaah in FlatHickTown. When I was little I liked the ooohing and aaahing – I enjoyed the way that everybody knew that everybody else was going to oooh and not aaah, and then aaah and not oooh. But things are all electrified now and there just doesn’t seem to be the time for ooohing and aaahing.
And crikey! When I was a nipper you could stand so close to the bonfire that it scorched your face. These days health and safety dictates that one must stand at least three miles away [or so it seems] from a bonfire.
And it wasn’t even cold! Bonfire Night is the start of winter, when everybody wraps up in scarves and woolly hats and annoying mittens. Somebody forgot to tell God to turn the heating down this year.
But despite all the above, and the lack of soup [Bonfire Night without scalding hot, and very cheap, tomato soup?!], and the extortionate price we had to pay to traipse across a school field and view some lights in the sky whilst having our hearing impaired for all eternity, it was a remarkably Good Time. Guy was burned, unfortunately, and toddlers screamed whilst teenagers grumbled and the smell of fried onions wafted into our noses.
I even video’d a bit of the Grand Finale so that you could all share in the joy that is the celebration of the non-destruction of parliament. It’s not particularly impressive.
please God bless Guy xxx Elsabeth
[This post was brought to you in association with the Society for the Appreciation of Ooohing and Aaahing]