The family all came over for Bonfire Night yesterday, although the weather was drizzly, we weren’t deterred.

Ronan is, quite possibly, the perfect son. I’d been slicing onions on the mandoline (with a cutproof glove, obvs) and the joiner called to look at the work I need him to do. The onions were fine, I’d still got a couple to slice but the rest were gently frying and I just left them. Once we’d finished looking at the jobs to be done, we headed outside to check from there, just as Ro and the children were arriving. So we all greeted each other and I came indoors ten minutes later, by this time a bit late for all the onions to have been left alone. Ro had sliced the rest, stirred them in the pan, washed up the mandoline and cleaned the work surface.

Anyway, all went well. I’d bought a piece of pork shoulder and started cooking it fairly early in the hot oven, then transferred it to the warm oven because I had bread to bake, then put it up high again. Somehow, it was perfect. Fabulously crunchy crackling and cooked but juicy meat. I’d also made two batches of flapjacks, fried the onions very slowly over a couple of hours and made apple sauce. Wink made a crumble for pudding. I was going to bustle out and deal with the bonfire, but Ro pointed out that there would be blokes to do that, I could just leave it. I did mention he’s the perfect son? Instead, we made a guy. Ro had told Rufus about Guy Fawkes, a toned-down version, so I sacrificed an elderly pair of trousers and a shirt that I normally use for home decorating, we fetched half a bale of stale straw and got stuffing. Then the children had ice cream and Perdita went for a nap.

Weeza and Phil came in separate cars, so that the boot of each could be filled with firewood, so they’re all set for the next few weeks. I have plenty to share. Everyone seemed to have a lovely time, I certainly did.

I note from overseas friends on Facebook that it seems to be believed that Guy Fawkes is still an influential figure over here. One friend even thinks he’s a symbol of religious intolerance because he was Catholic. Er, no. It’s really just Bonfire Night, an excuse for a party. When political shenanigans get a bit much, some people mutter that maybe he had the right idea, but no one literally wants to blow up Parliament, nor do they hate Guido. It’s just an excuse for fun, fire and fireworks, nothing more. We are really not holding on to 400 yearsworth of hate, most people don’t know anything about the history. Sometimes, a sigh is just a sigh.