Remember them days, half the street dragging bushes and shrubs onto wasteland (there was plenty back then) two weeks before guy fawks night. All bringing a box of standard fireworks and let off in sync. The brown paper wrapped jumping crackers, the penny bangers or tuppence if they were bigger with a red plastic cap on. The rockets that launched with a 'phew', the catherine wheels that were about the size of an old penny, supplied with the nail already attached, the silver sparkle pyramid firework, the roman candle with a roman soldier image on the side? What the **** happened..
Making bonfires in the backlanes. As many as 10 down ours some years! Firing rockets out of milk bottles down the lane at the neighbours We'd all have asbo's nowadays!
When I was about 5 or 6 some twat put a banger in my Halloween turnip! Biggest piece of turnip left must have been the size of a grain of rice! There's still a fatwa out on that b@st@rd!!
keepin lookout for your bonti till past your hometime & gettin arse kicked for coming home black and sooty after torcing rival bontis Scouring rival bontis for bonti wood to pinch before you torched them bonti raiders on the prowl jumpers for goalposts........ all this after apple raiding season just finished those were the days
forgot to mention sticking bangers in cow pats and being the last (bravest) to run for it and getting covered in ****
I put a big display on last night for all the kids in our street. I have always loved this time of year. I prefer penny for the guy more than this Americanised rubbish that we adhere too these days though.
It was all good fun when I was growing up, there'd always be somebody turning up with an old sofa to chuck on the fire, or a set of wardrobes. The entire community would 'donate' something to the fire... I think they thought they had to, otherwise they'd be noted and find that their fence panels were 'donated' without consent. It'd go on for quite a while, until somebody thought it'd be a great idea to throw the local pervert's bin on the fire or a car tyre and then it'd be minutes before the fire brigade turned up to put the fire out. Good old days... now it's just private bonfires in people's gardens, spoiled usually by a neighbour calling the police because their cat is scared.
When I was a wee bairn we always called it bonty neet. Always had the village bonty in the same place, down by the old pit railway. Sticking spuds on a long cane & roasting them. The whole village would turn up. Happy days.
Just thinking about you mentioning the village Billy, and this is a bit out of left field, but did you ever go down to the Houghton Feast when you were a kid?
Nah mate, didn't hail from that way. Born & bred in Hobson near Burnopfield & then moved to Tanfield Lea near Stanley. That's my neck of the woods.
I sense disappointment in your response, this isn't Tinder you know, besides which he only likes voluptuous women who he can share his pies with. You'd have to shave, tuck it in and learn to roll pastry... and hope he splits up with his current bird, before you'll get a sniff.
When we were kids we used to keep all the fireworks in them big biscuit tins for safety and only take the lid off to get the next firework out. Great idea until one bonfire night the lid was taken off to get the next firework and someone noticed a spark had got in off the bonfire. We all jumped into the long grass then it went up there were rockets and all sorts flying all over some about two feet off the ground - s**t meself If I remember correctly
