A dying breed.

The English tradition of course. November the fifth is a significant date in the English calendar, and one of my favourite yearly celebrations. It celebrates the foiling of Guy Fawkes plot to blow up the houses of parliament and so far it’s managed to stay relatively inoffensive to every one. By that I mean it’s different from St Georges day, which is now toned down in order to not offend the non English who choose to live in England. Silly isn’t it?

I cannot put an English flag up outside my house because the government thinks its offensive to people from other cultures. At Christmas you aren’t allowed actually discuss Christ because, guess what? It offends non Christians. Natwest (a bank famous for the use of piggy banks in the 80’s) and the Halifax have both disallowed the use of piggy banks and the pig image because it’s offensive to Muslims. But all that’s fine, because we still have bonfire night. Fire and bright lights don’t seem to offend anyone, yet.

Anyway, this Saturday I will be wrapped up, holding my sparkler and watching the Catherine wheels, stuffing my face with hot dogs and jacket potatoes and just generally enjoying the merriment at our local rugby club…. If that’s ok of course, as long as it doesn’t like… make anyone uncomfortable or anything.