Here in the South-East of England, the tradition of burning things and setting off lots of fireworks is alive and well and thriving around Guy Fawkes night. There’s this manic gleam in the eyes of those with fireworks as the light the fuses. There must be something deep and pagan about all of this.

We were going to go up to Lewes to see the fireworks display there; however people kept warning us off by saying there would be too many people, too much fire, not safe for kids etc. So we took the advice and headed off to a little village called Poynings for a nice gentle HUGE BONFIRE and over the top fireworks. A great night, made better by no long death march back to the car and a nice easy trip home. Mind you, the food was rubbish. But the bonfire was good and so were the fireworks.

Big bonfires work well when it is cold. And it was. Night are close to freezing, and the grass is crispy with frost when I head out the back door and across the field to the station early some mornings.
Life is good. I’m in the rhythm of work and lots of commuting and using some commute time to work on our still-secret web application which is accumulating funding and is building into a new real business steadily. I’ll write some more about that when we have something public to say.
I’ll tell some commuting stories here one day, too. There’s plenty to tell.