Remember, Remember the 5th November ...!

Morning all!

I hope all my friends across the pond enjoyed their bonfire celebrations last night.   I really miss Bonfire Night (or Guy Fawkes Night to give it it's proper title).  Last year (our first in Arizona), as the 5th November approached, I couldn't understand why there were no bonfire or firework displays advertised anywhere, until it dawned on me that as the very essence of the occasion centers around the commemoration of a foiled plot by Guy Fawkes in 1605 to blow up the British Houses of Parliament along with King James I,  there probably weren't going to be any either ... oh yeah ... that'll be why then.  What an idiot **snort**

I miss the Chailey Bonfire.

I miss getting wrapped up in warm coats, hats, scarves and wellies and stepping out into the chill autumn darkness to join friends and neighbors as we walked to the end of the road to wait for the village Bonfire Procession.

I miss watching all the local Bonfire Societies file past in their stripey jerseys and looking out for our friends Richie, Gini and Sam as the Chailey Bonfire Society pass by in their yellow and green stripes, with blackened faces and flaming fiery torches lighting their way.

I miss following along behind the floats at the back of the procession in the crisp night air (or the pouring rain as was the case a couple of years I recall!) listening to the kids all chattering excitedly and watching them shining their torches into each others faces, giggling hysterically as they skipped along holding on to each other's hands in the darkness.

I miss the traditional 'half-way pit stop' at the Horns Lodge pub.  Just time enough for a swift pint (which I always regretted an hour or so later when I was standing in the middle of a dark field dying for a wee!) before the procession set off again on it's final leg to the village green.

I miss the anticipation on the faces of all the children gathered excitedly, waiting for the fireworks to begin as we adults complained about frozen feet (and needing a wee!).

I miss the chanting of the old 17th Century Bonfire nursery rhyme ...

Remember, Remember the fifth of November,
Gunpowder treason and plot.
We see no reason
Why gunpowder treason
Should ever be forgot!
Guy Fawkes, guy, t'was his intent
To blow up king and parliament.
Three score barrels were laid below
To prove old England's overthrow.
By God's mercy he was catch'd
With a darkened lantern and burning match.
So, holler boys, holler boys, Let the bells ring.
Holler boys, holler boys, God save the king.
And what shall we do with him?
Burn him! ....

... and the ceremonial lighting of the Bonfire with the Guy on top.

I miss the crackling of the fire and the sweet smoky smell of burning wood as the flames leapt higher and higher and the black night sky sparkled with flecks of gold.

Most of all, I miss the fabulous fireworks.   Explosions of glitter and sparkle ... silver, gold and every color of the rainbow ... each one more magnificent than the last.  I have to say I wasn't that keen on the loud ones, (which seemed to get louder every year - or maybe that was just me getting older!) nor was I as keen on the 1.5 mile walk back in pitch darkness afterwards (by now desperately needing a wee!) which always seemed twice as long as it was on the way there.  I don't think Chailey Bonfire is until next weekend this year (as they never clash with Lewes which is always on the 5th), so to all my Sussex readers, why not try and get along?

When I was little, although there weren't really any organized firework displays as such then, we would always build a small bonfire in the back garden, complete with a 'Guy' for the top.  For my American friends who are wondering what on earth a 'Guy' is by the way, it is traditionally an effigy of Guy Fawkes (although at various points in history other unpopular figures have also featured!) made when we were kids, by stuffing old clothes with scrumpled up newspaper but nowadays often much more elaborate ones are created for big organized displays.

Dad would come home from work that day with a small box of fireworks and a big bag of treacle toffee (or 'Bonfire Toffee' which was always a tradition in our house).  I remember being so excited I could hardly contain myself as I watched Dad nail the Catherine Wheel to the fence post, place the Rocket into a milk bottle at the end of the garden and prepare a bucket of soil in which to light the Roman Candle, Squib and Volcano.  Best of all though, was always the packet of sparklers!

As soon as it was dark, we would all troop outside whilst Dad lit the bonfire and Mum served steaming hot tomato soup in mugs, which was almost as exciting to me as the fireworks ... not only to have 'tea' outside (I was a Northern girl remember ... it was 'tea' in the evening, dinner was at dinner time ... obvs), but to be allowed to slurp soup out of a mug and not have to use a spoon!  That would usually be followed by steaming hot baked potatoes and crisp pork sausages (I'm salivating here!), followed by a big chunk of sticky homemade parkin (another Northern tradition ... kind of like a more cakey gingerbread) before the fireworks were allowed to begin.

Parkin ... Mmmmmm!

I can still see that Catherine Wheel now, spinning faster and faster on the fence post, shooting out colorful sparks as it flew round and round whilst I jumped up and down, beyond excited, before fizzling out all too soon **sad face** 

Finally, when all the fireworks were finished, (more often than not there were always a few that disappointingly never even got started - hence, I suppose the expression 'damp squib'!) came the bit I had been waiting for ... the Sparklers!  Once the match had been struck (if I close my eyes I can actually smell the sulphur as the pink blob fizzed into a golden flame) and touched to the end of the sparkler, I watched with pure joy as it leapt into life and was carefully passed to me to hold in my, by now grubby, mittened little hand.  I can remember whizzing it back and forth as I tried to write my name against the blackness before it gave it's final splutter and fizzled out. Sigh.

Here's a quick clip from the legendary Peter Kay (also from 'up North') describing what was pretty much everyone's bonfire night experience when I was a kid ...

Yes .... I really miss Bonfire Night, but I'm thankful that I have all those memories to pull down from the shelf when I want to watch them all over again, which is kind of the next best thing.

I hope you all had fun and stayed safe whether you were busy creating new memories with your friends and family or just recalling old ones.

Thanks for stopping by.  Until next time ...

TTFN
Bev x