Fizz! Bang! Whoop-whoop-whoop! I know they’re a dreadful waste of money, but I can’t help the excitement I feel whenever I see fireworks. The child in me claps it’s hands, and beams at the sky.
When my Polish family invited me to Norfolk to join their New Year celebrations, I knew there would be dancing, vodka- of course!- kissing, and more food than I could reasonably be expected to eat in a week. I wasn’t disappointed on any of these counts, but the promise of fireworks at Cromer on New Year’s Day was the icing on the cake. (and yes, there was plenty of that, too).
Impatiently, we waited for the lights to dim and the show to start, gazing across the water for signs of activity on the pier.
And then, finally, the count down. 5-4-3-2-1- whooppee!
Impossible to replicate the sounds, the colours and the pure joy. This week Paula has asked us to Pick a Word in Thursday’s Special. I’ve picked an easy word, Festive, to stave off the January blues.