Four. Stinking. Years.

Right. Let me start by pointing out how much I love November 5th. Now, I know that a lot of you won't understand the significance of this date, but here's a quick history lesson to help you out:

In November 1605, because of the persicution of Catholics by the Protestant king of England, James I, A number of plotters attempted to blow up the houses of Parliament at the official opening. Every year, at the opening of parliament in England, the monarch attends. The intention of the plotters was to blow up the houses of Parliament, taking the king that was persicuting them with it. From there, they intended to stage a revolution, and have a Catholic monarch take over the throne. However, just hours before the plan was fully put into action, a man named Guido Fawkes, one of the plotters, was discovered under the houses of parliament, with all the gunpowder. He was arrested, tortured, and eventually executed along with his fellow plotters. Ever since, every november 5th in England, all over the country, Bonfires are lit and fireworks set off to remind people of what happened. We even still burn an effigy of Guy Fawkes on the bonfire, although the whole thing has become simply tradition as opposed to an event of political significance. The whole affair can be summed up with the following rhyme:

Remember, Remember,
The fifth of November -
Gunpowder, Treason and Plot.
I see no reason
Why Gunpowder Treason
Should ever be forgot.

All this is by the by. What is important is that, for me, Novemeber the fifth is the first night of the year that I wear gloves, scarf and hat. You have to wrap up. There is bonfire toffee, toffee apples, baked potatoes and many other tasty treats. It reminds me of being a kid. It also reminds me that my birthday is coming up.

I have lived in Leeds for four years now. The first year, I intended to go to the local big bonfire with some of my new friends from university. I went back to my parents' house, and had my dad bring me back in time for the big display. However, he set off really late, and by the time that I got back to leeds, the fireworks had finished! Not to worry, I thought, there's always next year...

The next year, I organised for my cell group to go to the even bigger display at Roundhay park. About 100,000 people turn up to this one, and it's supposed to be spectacular. But someone forgot their car, so I sat around waiting with two others while we waited for our ride, and we arrived in time to see the last firework explode in the air about half a mile away.

Last year, I had to work.

This year, I was determined to make it. We started planning the event about three weeks ago. It went like this: Everyone in my house, and in the two houses next to me, was going to walk down to Hyde Park, enjoy the bonfire, then return to have baked potatoes with chilli and cheese and watch the simpsons. It was so well planned, just like the Gunpowder Plot of 1605, but unfortunately, just like the Gunpowder plot, it was foiled at the last minute. I'm going to hospital for surgery today, and I won't be out until (at the earliest) Sometime on Friday. And if I come out then, I won't be well enough to go to the fireworks. Rubbish.