5th November is Bonfire Night in the UK. We’d intended to go to one of the public firework displays, but in the end, because it was cold rainy weather and our new house has a wonderful view over the town, we just went there.
The main bedroom now has:
A gorgeous thick squnchy-under-the-toes honey-coloured carpet
Two pine wardrobes, one for each of us
A super-duper-king-size bed, all ready made up with lovely fresh bedding.
What more could anyone want for sitting and watching fireworks?
Barry had seen all this before, as he’d taken delivery of it all (and made the bed up, of course), but I hadn’t. So I had a wonderful time seeing how good the bedroom looked, as well as the new carpet in the living and dining room downstairs – light-coloured apart from the extension at the end of the dining room, which is going to be my study. I’d picked out a rich reddish-brown colour for that, and it looked even better once it was on the floor.
Then, after I’d admired all of that, we dimmed the lights in the bedroom and looked out over the lights of the town, watching all the fireworks going off in different places. Jamie watched them as well for a bit and then crawled round on the new carpet, pulling the under-bed drawers out and pushing them back and climbing into the suitcase of things that Barry had brought over from our rented house, and eventually lay in between the two of us nursing until he fell asleep peacefully in the middle of the huge bed. Barry and I talked about inconsequential stuff – where the furniture and other things would go, mostly. And we looked out at the dark night so full of lights. I pictured us doing the same thing on Bonfire Night time after time, in the years to come, children getting older and sitting with us to watch, just one of the many, many things we’ll do together in this house, one of the many memories that Jamie and any younger brothers or sisters he has will grow up with, one of the uncountable things we will do together as a family.