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Bonfire night

This is not meant to rub your noses in it, for those of you settling in for the first night of lockdown, but tonight I’ve been at a neighbour’s bonfire night party celebrating that great libertarian Guy Fawkes.

Oddly for a country that jumps on the bandwagon of almost every holiday and hullabaloo Bermuda doesn’t do firework night. Probably mostly because fireworks are illegal here, but tonight our English neighbours who live here part time and are currently ensconced here, good timing on their part, hosted a little 5th November party for the ‘hood.

We took cookies and booze and mingled with people from our little neighbourhood, which was nice for us as we only moved to this house at the end of February before we locked down.

The bonfire was on the beach and I haven’t stood in front of a blazing fire like that for yonks. I was mesmerized by it, the burnt orange flames, embers dropping at my feet, the heat in my eyes, the smoke in my nose. Loved it.

Of course I’m home now and my eyes sting and my clothes stink, but that smell of my childhood is up there with freshly baking bread and petrol.

Happy Bonfire night

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