Well, it’s Bonfire Night over here in Britain. This is the third one I’ve experienced, and I still can’t get over the novelty of setting off fireworks in November. Where I come from, fireworks are meant to be experienced on a warm summer night, lying on a blanket with your siblings trying to catch “lightnin’ bugs” and oohing at the patriotic local show. Instead here everyone tramps out to a hill in the middle of the freezing cold night to commemorate a murderous traitor. Very odd, the British.

There are still (loud) fireworks going off on our block. I don’t think Britain has the same laws against, you know, BIG fireworks that we do in the U.S. These suckers sound huge. It’s gonna be a while before I sleep.