Friday 6 November 2009

Remember

Remember, remember, the fifth of November
The Gunpowder Treason Plot
I see no reason why Gunpowder Treason
Should ever be forgot,
A stick or a stake for King James' sake
Won't you please to give us a faggot?
If you won't give us one then we'll take two
The better for us and the worse for you.

Childhood memories; wellies and hats and scarves and gloves, wading through the mud in a neighbour's garden holding red hot sausages and sipping scalding soup. Waving sparklers and watching Catherine Wheels fizzle and spurt, longing to be old enough to be the one to light the fireworks, but settling for throwing another stick on the fire and watching the Guy fry.

Staggering indoors to eat Parkin and Bonfire Cake, having tipped the soup surreptitiously into a flowerbed. Soggy gloves and ears scarlet with cold. Families from all along the road, squeezed in together, warming up and drying off before scampering home, and snuggling down under extra blankets to dream of rockets and fountains, and complicated maths topic work involving half a dozen matches, each of which will light three fireworks, how many of the box of twenty will be saved for next year.

Perhaps a bigger show at the weekend; wrapped up warmly we stand in a crowd, clearing space for sparklers and enjoying the high fireworks, standing on tiptoe and sitting on parents' shoulders to try to see the lower ones but settling for the scent of cordite and frosty noses.

And now? Two children the age my brother and I were, both tucked up in bed. One who loves the bangs and flashes, but who tends to drown when tipped back far enough to watch them. And one who is terrified, and lies under a duvet and blanket, the noise thankfully masked by the hiss and whirr of her ventilator, begging me please no fireworks Mumma, and tonight peacefully asleep before dark and avoiding them all. And me, dividing my time between this computer in the quieter moments, and standing in the garden, watching the show put on by the football club the rest of the time.

Next year, maybe.
Tia

4 comments:

Doorless said...

I miss the fireworks here too. The Princess only mildly was interested in them when younger the Elf could care less. The Princess and Dlf both like to be in bed and asleep before they begin. Amber was my night Owl and was fascinated by them. Well in Heaven she can see them all over the world. Enjoy little one!

Tina said...

We have had fireworks for Eve's birthday in the past but last year and this we didnt. I would love to go to an organised display but Rosie and Jonathan and me if I am honest just dont do the cold, Christina doesnt cope with the lateness and we are just too lazy to go out in the evening!
We now settle for watching them from an upstairs window....the joys of living in the flats of Lincolnshire you can seee a long way!

I miss Cowes Week as the firworks on an early August evening are much more pleasant to make the effort for! Although Joshua let everyone know....ooooh me not like it me not like it ME NOT LIKE IT!!!!!
The childhood memories though are of boonfire toffee and Sausages and jacket potatoes.
Hugs

Tina said...

We have had fireworks for Eve's birthday in the past but last year and this we didnt. I would love to go to an organised display but Rosie and Jonathan and me if I am honest just dont do the cold, Christina doesnt cope with the lateness and we are just too lazy to go out in the evening!
We now settle for watching them from an upstairs window....the joys of living in the flats of Lincolnshire you can seee a long way!

I miss Cowes Week as the firworks on an early August evening are much more pleasant to make the effort for! Although Joshua let everyone know....ooooh me not like it me not like it ME NOT LIKE IT!!!!!
The childhood memories though are of boonfire toffee and Sausages and jacket potatoes.
Hugs

natasha said...

i know what you mean - that need to recreate one's own childhood memories for our own children - but not always possible when they react differently.

another year....

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