Bonfire Fright...

Bonfire party at my Mum's last night. Despite being on my feet for eight hours at work all day it was lots of fun, marred slightly by the fact that the fireworks were manned by two pyromaniacs. The results were...interesting.

Now I know why fireworks should NEVER be thrown on fires...

But lots of fun all the same.

Den gets petrol happy with the bonfire.

I do love a good fire though, it takes me back to my scout days. At University I was always the one clamouring the gather firewood during the long summer days (that should've been spent studying). There's something lovely about wrapping up, trying to keep warm by drinking (copious) amounts of mulled wine and waving sparkers around like a five year old.

However, the reason this party was quite early in the whole 'bonfire' season is because my Mum is jetting off to Australia in a few weeks to have a look at places to live. Which is a fairly scary thought.

Even though I've not lived with her for a few years, and have always been very independent, it's totally different having someone thousands of miles away rather than a hundred or so. I'll also hopefully be going to live with her for a year, and even though I'm very excited we're approaching the point of no return in terms of life changing decisions.

Not that I begrudge the thought of spending a bonfire night on the beach. I will miss the mulled wine though...

So yesterday, it wasn't just the fireworks (literally) whooshing past my head that were making me nervous. The thought of impending change was lending more than a helping hand.