Post 499: Still not right, like the carnival lights.
“We Burn for Charity” had to be scrubbed from all areas tonight when the national regulations turned an ancient tradition into a modern fob-off, with no burning hand-held torches allowed this year.
A slow start to a big evening
The day started with me rising out of bed as my Darling opened the front door after work.
I was lost in the TV and hadn’t had any breakfast, as usual. The South Korean series I’m watching calms me and distracts me from the world outside of and from what the world is now for me.
My Darling and I had salmon and new potatoes with edamame beans and broccoli, which was too much for me. Although I didn’t finish it completely, I gave it a pretty good go.
I felt full but OK afterwards and soon set off for my sister’s bungalow with the downstairs loo I mentioned the other day.
Big Sis and brother-in-law were waiting for me, and we would all later go down the hill into town for the big carnival procession.
A yearly explosion of fire and flames, as once again we celebrated and memorialised the ending of the Gunpowder Plot, with the usual prayer to the history…
Bonfire Prayers
Remember, remember the Fifth of November,
The Gunpowder Treason and plot,
I see no reason why Gunpowder Treason
Should ever be forgot.
Guy Fawkes, Guy Fawkes ’twas his intent
To blow up the King and the Parliament,
Three score barrels of powder below
Poor old England to overthrow.
By God’s providence he was catch’d
With a dark lantern and burning match,
Holler boys, holler boys, ring bells ring
Holler boys, holler boys, God Save the King!
A penny loaf to feed the Pope,
A farthing o’ cheese to choke him,
A pint of beer to rinse it down,
A faggot of sticks to burn him.
Burn him in a tub of tar,
Burn him like a blazing star,
Burn his body from his head,
Then we’ll say old Pope is dead.
Hip Hip Hoorah!
Hip Hip Hoorah!
Hip Hip Hoorah!
(Ancient)
Yes, it’s a local thing we do, with each town in the area celebrating every Saturday from September, culminating in the county town with a mad and riotous assembly on the 5th November each year.
But even as we walked down to the High Street to gain a position of vantage, we had given a lot of thought to what kind of parade awaited us.
The burning torches usually light up and warm the crowds watching on, while filling charity tubs with loose change — yet another example of change in this country — to collect for local charities.
However, my gut had other ideas.
The great escape
We were about five minutes from the big show heading our way when half an hour or so of tummy grumbles suddenly turned the few chips I had been bought by Big Sis and brother-in-law, in their typical generosity on a night like this, into something my instincts were no longer prepared to ignore.
“I need the loo, Sis.”
And with that, she grabbed the house keys and we set off back up the hill.
I had not walked so fast with my walking poles for years.
At first we trudged slowly, picking our way through the crowds awaiting the parade, which was still a very long way behind us — in fact, not in sight yet.
Past vendors selling bagged candy floss.
No thanks, not tonight.
And away up the hill we went towards the door which held a heavenly seat.
We reached the driveway with Big Sis gaining two steps ahead of me and, with practiced precision, opened the front door, flung the bathroom door open, turned on the light and got well out of the way.
Thank heavens for downstairs loos.
Her only loo in this case.
And while I exploded, she put the radio on loud and boiled some water for a cuppa.
What we missed
When all the excitement had ceased, we fell onto their couch and had a chat about what we had missed.
My little brother had met up with us and ate more of my chips than I had picked at, and I wish I could have stayed longer for the street procession.
But on hearing that there were no flames in any hands, I was sad on one hand but glad I’d missed it on the other.
It just wouldn’t have been the same.
The missing phone
After tea and a bit more chatter, we set off for home.
It was quite late by now, and as I took to the bypass on the drive home, I realised that I didn’t have my phone.
Oh, brilliant.
I pulled up in a service area and worked out that I had probably left it by the side table where we had been sitting earlier.
So I swiftly turned around and headed back to Big Sis.
By the time I arrived, they had found the phone and had already started driving to drop it off to me.
Bless them.
And luckily, we all had sensors on the cars, or else his smashingly nice car would have been embedded in my Darling’s very own smashingly nice car.
I should have driven slower, but I don’t know…
All’s well that ends well.
So I grabbed my phone, we had yet more hugs, and I headed home to a quiet house to rest my weary body.
There were no further occasions of the rapid run to the loo, but my gut is still gurgling.
What a nightmare.
Not the excitement I wanted to experience, but memorable all the same.
I didn’t miss much anyway.
Take care.
Sleep well.
