Boom bang a bang
(Firework: Glasgow, Scotland)
My top five favourite celebrations must be similar to those of many other people. They include the following (in order of where they appear in the year); Chinese New Year, my birthday, Hallowe’en, Bonfire night and Christmas. Each of them have their own particular set of rituals that I like to honour, but each of them has so much scope to offer in its own right. CNY is all about exchanging of good wishes, luck, food and family. My birthday generally involves some kind of en masse dressing up silliness and dancing. Hallowe’en is very like that, but with the addition of a schlock horror element and activities like apple bobbing, face painting, decorating and an annual visit to Tam Shepherd’s Trick Shop in Glasgow. Christmas should speak for itself; a focus on fun family time, roaring fires, long walks, time off, home made food and ridiculous games.
Bonfire Night sits solidly amongst these titans of celebration as the only one where fireworks and pyrotechnics are absolutely guaranteed. This is the main reason for my piqued interest, as well as a prevalence of fire in other forms; the massive flaming pile of timber we call a bonfire, the sparklers that choke bystanders with acrid smoke and the threat of burning their hair. The fireworks are the biggest highlight of the night for me – my anticipation is tangible and the thrill of the coloured gunpowder is magical. I generally stand watching them whistle, boom and fizz whilst exclaiming “WOW! That’s my favourite one! The fizzy rain!” This is usually closely followed by “Oh no, that one! That’s my favourite! The big big bangy ones!” You might notice that in the heightened state of excited agitation that I become much less articulate. Too much of my brain is being overloaded with light and sound information for me to make much sense. “That’s a double one! It did fizzy palm trees and then a boom! It’s my favourite!” The annoyance of my compatriots is also probably tangible at this point. I just love the noise and the ghostly spiders of smoke left hanging in the sky, blowing away like cobwebs. But the most intense part of fireworks is feeling the impact in my sternum. It feels so extreme when you see the huge neon explosion above you, then punched in the chest a second after it by the force of sound. I can’t imagine what it was like for the people of Oban, further up the West coast last night. All their fireworks went off within a minute instead of thirty minutes due to a technical hitch.
The latest Project B update is that there is still no door, so any toilet time must be announced to the entire flat before it occurs. I have hung a poster of Charles Rennie Mackintosh over the doorway so that if someone were to suddenly appear in the hallway area, there is at least something between the toilet user and them. I imagine the exchange would be deeply embarrassing for both parties. The poster is an ideal size, though Charles himself has a rather haughty look, as if he is about to say “Are you… are you weeing?” I haven’t let myself be put off by his aloof gaze. Tiling has commenced and although we still just have the use of our old toilet, there is a shower tray in situ as well as all the plumbing for everything else. We are slowly getting there. The boiler is now fixed and all the radiators are back on the walls.
– Today Rosie is getting her ‘bathroom’ tiled and one step closer to being a reality in Glasgow, Scotland –
