I can remember from being about 10 years old, Dad would hold fantastic bonfire parties each year that attracted many family, friends and neighbours. Each year around the middle of October we would begin a mass collection of wood, pallets, old furniture and anything that would burn until we had a huge mountain ready for the party. I can still feel the excitement building over the day just waiting for it to get dark and as soon as dusk fell, rushing up Castle Hill to find some folk already stood on the garden waiting for the fire to be lit. Some nearby early firworks would be set of which would turn the dark sky into a grey smokey blanket. I can picture myself walking into the house and finding more people stood with drinks in hand in the kitchen, I'd usually find Dad there with his home made toffee apples and bonfire toffee. I can see the toffee now all sticky and gooey, I'd have a job trying to pull a piece off! Gradually people would move outside onto the garden, the bonfire would be lit and the BBQ would be fired up. We'd drag an old mattress up to the fire and sit on it roasting and burning our faces! Then the fireworks would be set off and we'd sometimes have to run for cover if we came across a dogdy one! Then we'd sit and eat endless burgers and hotdogs and drink until the fire burnt low. Everyone remembers the year we ran out of wood too early into the evening, so without Dads knowledge his old garden shed was pulled down and thrown on. He didnt get to know about it until it was too late but he never grumbled or complained! That was just like Dad, most people would have hit the roof but he just shrugged and laughed about it. He had the greatest, happy go lucky, easy going nature - but it cost him his shed! The parties would continue like this every weekend before bonfire night until I was about 18. The council would not allow bonfires on the garden and the phone wire couldnt take much more punishment! From then on we held parties at Claires and Lyndseys house. It wasnt really the same but we enjoyed the event just as much. One year at Claires a firework toppled over and pointed right at us, naturally we all grabbed the children and made a dash for safety but Dad (mellow as ever) didnt move quick enough and copped a bright green flame at the back of his right thigh. At first I was really worried thinking he had been seriously harmed but it soon became clear that Dad had expirienced a close shave and we began to laugh hard with relief and because of the image of him sat there with a cig hanging out of his mouth frantically slapping the back of his leg! It took us ages to persude him to let us take a look at his bare leg but because of the location (just below his backside) it meant he would have to drop his trousers and because he was shy about things like that he would only let a few of us see it! It became a long running joke after that. When Dad died in May 2005 we held a bonfire one last time on his garden, in the same spot we had shared many happy nights years ago. This time it was only his daughters and our partners and the grandchildren there. We had a small fire and a few drinks. No dodgy fireworks but a bag of aerosol cans was accidentally thrown onto the fire so once again we all had to scramble to safety (just like the good old times!)Incredibly,the heat from our small fire made the telephone wire suddenly snap and brake! After all those years of it looking like it would break any second under the massive flames it took it's last chance and buckled under our small tribute fire! Quite ironic really. Once again it has come to the time of year we all enjoyed together, this time Dad wont be there to share in the happy times but he will be with me in my memory and heart. This will be the 3rd Bonfire night without him but the memories of past parties remain as strong and clear as ever. I miss you Dad, my only wish is to have you here back with us.