Who could forget it? Tomorrow is truly one of L&F’s favourite nights of the year. Marshmallow covered, singed oven gloves (they melt and gloop, whatever you do to try to avoid it), ‘Oooos’ and ‘Ahhhhhs!’ mixing with the smell of cordite and bonfire – let’s just hope it isn’t unseasonably warm. Pets carefully corralled, with blinds down and Radio 4 and each other for company, we’ll set off down the track behind the house to Five Oaks and friends and try hard to forget the gruesome story behind Bonfire Night: no Guys here, thank you very much. Back by torchlight after burnt/raw sausages and aforementioned marshmallows - and then back again the next day to collect the bits of debris from fallen Rockets, Roman Candles, Catherine Wheels and Zooms. It’s amazing how widely they fall. Another marker in the round of the year, done.
REMEMBER, REMEMBER, THE FITH OF NOVEMBER.
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