If there is one thing we do well in Britain, it is Traditions. Bonfire night must be one of the best. 'Remember, remember the 5th November!'. We remember the night the 'Gunpowder plot', an attempt at burning down the Houses of Parliament in 1605, was foiled. Guy Fawkes, the lead conspirator, was caught and executed. So in a rather macabre fashion, we make a dummy Guy, stick him on top of a bonfire, and burn him! Usually this is accompanied by fireworks, and celebrations.
This year the 5th November was Saturday night, and we were lucky to get some tickets to the Hurlingham Club, which is a private member's Club in London (another thing we do well: members' Clubs). It is a great place, with lovely facilities for children, a gym, tennis courts, beautiful parkland, and wonderful buildings that host a large variety of events. Bonfire Night is one of their annual events, and they sell a restricted number of tickets to non-members.
Being a rather smart club, I was extremely worried that the children might be a complete nightmare and wail all evening. I managed to leave Cici at home, but in exchange for my brother's little girl, Arabella (a beautiful, funny, doll-like girl of 3 whom I adore). So Dom, my mother and I arrived with the 3 children, and met a queue of at least 30 waiting to buy glow-in-the-dark light sabres, and flashing star necklaces. Being a total rip off, we still bought them as it's very hard to refuse when every other child has one (and I thought they might be handy for seeing where they run off to, which they were). We then went to the bar, bought a very civilized glass of wine for the ladies and beer for Dom, and sat outside on the terrace listening to an electric string quartet (not your average Bonfire Night). The Guy was processed along to the huge bonfire, which was then lit, and filled the air with warmth and the wonderful smell of november fires. This was followed by a brilliant pyro-technics display, with men waving seriously large flames around in unison with the string quartet. The children were mesmerised. Then came the fireworks. By this point we had wiggled our way forward so that the children could see. Dom had Johnny on his shoulders, and we had lost him somewhere, so my mother and I watched together, with the 2 girls standing right at the front. They were magnificent. Set in tune to music, from classical to Queen, which stifled the bangs so the children weren't scared, you have never seen such an array of colours and sparkles and showers of shooting stars! Little Arabella managed to fall asleep on a kind stranger's lap (!), who had been lucky enough, or early enough to get one of the few chairs in the front row of the barrier. Leonora looked like she held her breath the whole way through, and mum and I stood arm in arm grinning up at the sky.
Topped off with a disco for 2-7 year olds (that I think I might have enjoyed that more than the kids - see video), we got home by 9.30pm with 3 exhausted but excited children, who behaved so well and did us proud!
On a totally different note, Leonora's wobbly tooth has finally fallen out. I was going to put a photo of it on here and then realised that it is probably only beautiful to me! The tooth was wrapped up last night in a tissue, and put in the little pocket of this special tooth fairy pillow she owns.
(You can buy one here:
Johnny was very upset about the whole thing, storming off, wishing that his teeth would fall out (he might live to regret that one!). The Tooth Fairy duly left her a £1 coin and took away her tooth. Most amusingly, she was very indignant about this: "I did not want real money! I wanted a gold chocolate coin!". The Tooth Fairy has taken note of this for next time (although there seems something inherently wrong with giving chocolate for your teeth falling out?).
Mx
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