For the first time in over a decade we’re in England for the beginning of November.
My birthday follows Guy Fawkes Day, a national celebration of individualism celebrated by many.
Although I’m missing the Indian summer of Portugal and the grand people over there I’m quite looking forward to experiencing the traditional celebrations.
The plan is to buy some fish and chips and a terribly exciting box of fireworks (and some sparklers obviously) and enjoy a pleasant evening with ‘She who must be dismayed’ and number 1 son.
(I am very mindful of the time(s) my father dropped a match/es into a/several whole box/es of fireworks during my childhood and shall try and remember to wear old clothes)
((This is plan 38a. Plan 38 was to watch some fireworks in Eastbourne but, apparently, germs have scuppered that. I am nothing if not adaptable.))
