Our family have always been huge fans of Bonfire Night. I’m not really fussed about Halloween, and Easter is fine, but that’s basically because CHOCOLATE … but I LOVE Bonfire Night. It’s a real throwback to my childhood because it’s an event that my Dad always put on for us.
We are very lucky because my Dad owns a big plot of land that used to be attached to the house we used to live in. It’s a field and an orchard and although we can only access it via the (dog poo strewn, pitch black) public alleyway, it is there for us to use whenever we like – Bonfire Night being the perfect excuse to go down there.
This year, I asked my brother if he and his family would like to join myself and Dexter at a small fireworks party. I had been kindly sent some fireworks, and he then also added to the firework mountain … along with 45,000 sparklers.
We all headed down there last Sunday night – nine of us in total – and got the fire started straight away. The great thing about having a pyromaniac as a Dad is that my brother and I now know how to build a fire, so my brother was on fire duty, and I was on BBQ duty.
Because we had a couple of children coming, Dexter and my best friend’s son, I thought I should probably take the whole ‘safety thing’ more seriously than perhaps if it had just been us adults. Which is totally the wrong attitude, obvs, but we’re a tough bunch so I never really bother. This time, however, I had ALL the safety equipment. I was NOT going to be caught out! I may have gone overboard somewhat. I had a fire extinguisher, a fire blanket, First Aid kits, a fire blanket … even safety goggles. (Don’t I look gorgeous though with my First Aid fanny pack above?!!)
My family, of course, took the mickey out of me ALL night.
Joking aside, the bum bag First Aid kit was a great idea because it meant I just clipped it around my waist and I could just leave it there for the evening. Which brings me onto …
When you throw a firework party there is always bound to be an injury of some sort occur … and sure enough, my best friend lit a giant sparkler but somehow a big spark bounced off the sparkler, burnt through her glove, and burnt her hand.
Exhibit A m’lud:
I have NO idea how it happened and I’m only thankful it wasn’t too serious (although I ‘may’ owe her a new pair of gloves.) But my trusty First Aid fanny pack came to the rescue and I whipped out my ‘burns gel’ and smothered her whole hand in it – better to be safe than sorry.
We had SUCH a good time. Granted, I didn’t have the best BBQ-ing skills but in my defence, cooking by torchlight is quite tricky. In fact, I was feeling quite smug after lightly toasting a burger bun, putting a little plastic cheese in it with BBQ sauce, and topping it off with a burger I’d cooked … only to realise halfway through that the burger was burnt on the outside and raw on the inside. Saw that bad boy again 2 hours later …
Think I’ll be relegated to just being the official fire stoker next year.
I’ll leave you with a little video of the best firework – the one everyone saves until last. Excuse my friend at the end talking about ‘the beast’. She was, of course, referring to the firework. I think. And I have no idea why we found it all so funny … but we did.
Do you love fireworks as much as me (and Katy Perry)?
* This post is in line with my disclosure policy.