Remember, remember the fifth of November.
Gunpowder, Treason and Plot.
I see no reason why Gunpowder Treason
Should ever be forgot.
As I mentionned in an earlier post about 'The Orchard', as my birthday falls in Mid-November we usually celebrate with a traditional bonfire party; fireworks, towering inferno, sparklers, hot dogs: the lot. When I was a child the heatproof foam cups that warmed our hands held creamy tomoto soup but in recent years hot, spicy cider has been added to the menu, and has achieved cult status as 'GROG', our Winter drink (and wet festival) favourite as a result. Here's the recipe we've used in recent years.
In other places the garden persists in colour - the rose still going strong amid gales and downpours, now redundant terracotta pots resting until next Spring and the Holly, bright and green, and looking forward to it's time entwined with ivy above the big mirror in the Dining Room looking down on turkey and sprouts and mahogany shining in the candlelight. For now it hangs in glossy green bunches and little gatherings of bold, crimson berries.
