On the 5th of November the British remember the thwarting of gunpowder plot with fireworks and bonfires topped with scarecrow-type effigies called guys. The air is soon scented with fireworks and burning wood that linger into the next day.
I don’t like bangers going off and know all about trying to soothe terrified dogs, but I still find Bonfire Night magical. In normal years, it’s a time for getting together and having a jolly good time. This year we can’t celebrate with a town bonfire, and the fireworks that are going off are almost completely obscured by heavy mist. Still, hearing the giggles of children when I was out walking, I can tell that many families are doing their best to keep the tradition alive. Continue reading “Parched Peas for Bonfire Night”
Susan Rushton 