Whizz! Bang! Woooooooo!

Is there anything better than a weekend of overindulgence?
In the past three days we have been to THREE different fireworks events. One was a big, public, town centre, council organised event that we had to pay to attend; one was a small village gathering with hot soup and hot dogs and some simple entertainment, and one was a private party held in someone’s garden. All, in their own way, were wonderful. Guy Fawkes Night may well be my favourite occasion of the year now. Philippa enjoyed the events, but not my enthusiastic intake of ‘warming whiskey.’ My attitude these day is “What is a bonfire without a hip flask?” but she seems to not agree. Her parting sentence to me as she retired to bed tonight was “You’ll never get me pregnant if you keep drowning your sperm in alcohol.”

RC 6-11-16