The last bonfire night I remember from my teens was held by the lighthouse in Woody Point. That's where it always was. But, that night, there was a big commotion. The excitement and the testosterone had fueled some pretty hefty competition. And we all know what fuel does to a fire. It never ends well. I have no idea how it started. Quite honestly, I was hanging out in perfect teenage oblivion in my boyfriends truck (haha...can you imagine that?!). But, next thing we knew, one of the guys had fallen - tripped or pushed in the midst of a brawl? - into the fire and got burned pretty badly.
And that ended that. No more lighthouse bonfires.
Then I moved to Ontario. No bonfires there. At least none that I attended.
But now I'm back home and the traditions start all over again with my kids. Last year, we had a bonfire and fireworks at the Rec Center. This year, there was an old house the fire department was burning down. I don't think the teenage guys are much into the pillaging of burnable materials anymore.
And here we are...Granny, Sarah, Charlotte, and I...
And there's what's left of Mr. George Payne's old house in the background.
Looks like Guy Fawkes night was keeping people busy in at least one other part of the world...read here.
Do you celebrate Guy Fawkes/Bonfire night in your neck of the woods?