I hate to say this, but I really don't like Bonfire Night. I think this stems from 2 incidents from my childhood that are still crystal clear in my memory.
The first was when I was about 5 years old and I had vomitted big style all over my favorite doll which was a proper Rag Doll called "Snotty Lottie". Try as she may, my mother could not get rid of the smell of the vom from Lottie, and so she thought it would be a great idea to use her as a Guy Folks on the bonfire!! I don't think she got her parenting skills from Spock - I think they were all her making! I'm not still traumatised by the image of my best bedtime buddy going up in smoke - but I still can see her to this day!
A few years later, I (just me on my own) had been invited to sleep over at the home of the "wealthy" branch of the family who were having a bonfire party. My mum kitted me out in a new hand knitted (very itchy - she only ever used cheap wool) pullover, and she treated me to a beautiful pair of brown suede shoes that I couldn't wear until I went to the wealthy cousins house. All was going well. They had a very tasteful "workmans brazier" instead of a fire (I told you they were posh!) and they were cooking potatoes in the fire which were delicious, but then someone lit a firework too close to me and a spark fell on my shoe and burned straight through to my foot. Now I was in pain from this ever so tiny burn, but I felt sick with fear thinking what my mums reaction was going to be to the hole in the brand new shoe. I couldn't sleep that night, and my uncle ended up taking me home - because of the burn, he thought, but it was in fact to get the wrath of my mum over and done with!! Fortunately, I didn't get the blame, but I did have to wear the shoe with its hole in, until it didn't fit me anymore.
When I had kids, I didn't want to transfer my fears onto them, but too many bonfire nights spent with friends/relatives pyromaniac hubby's, and a couple of organised displays that didn't go as well as they should, means that my bonfire nights now are rather tame affairs. We will be holding a Bonfire Barbecue on Sunday (the rain was too torrential last night) and I will make do with watching others fireworks from the relative safety of my garden.
I thought my photo looked slightly like fireworks, but it was actually an attempt to take a picture of the Arc de Triumph whilst crossing the road at twilight. It didn't turn out how I thought it would, but I quite like it.