I spent the weekend with friends at a cottage, and one of them at the bon fire wished she had sparklers. Naturally, I had sparklers. Fun was had, and sparklers thrown into a fire aren't super spectacular, but they do sparkle out really fast!
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The fire was quite bon. |
In particular, I have incredibly fond memories of being outside, on the sidewalks of Flesherton, with my mother and sister, playing with sparklers. They were amazing. They weren't as cheap as they are today, as we had to get them from a convenience store and the rise of the Dollar Store had not quite begun, so they were a rare occurrence. In retrospect, I find it awesome that my mother who struggled with things could still pull together fun evenings for us kids with something as simple as sparklers. We'd use those and the "worms" that burn up on the sidewalk to celebrate events that other people used fireworks for. I don't think I missed the big bangs and ka-booms (we saw those in Priceville once a year). I just loved watching that intense light live out its short life wild and free. I think I found it a little scary too, as I'm often wary of the chance of fire (did I mention I watched a neighbour's house burn down in New Zealand? :o), but I suppose I felt safe with my mother around, and never did manage to burn myself. Like everyone else, I loved writing things in the air. Back then, I wrote things I wished would stick so everyone could read them in their brilliant fiery strokes. Last night, I rather hoped people couldn't make out the embarrassing message I scrawled as quickly as I could to fit in all the words, and was a little glad it faded invisibly into time. Getting back to the past, my mother was cool. I wonder whether others have such strong associations from their youth with sparklers?
Another notable incident was also on the mean streets of Flesherton, years later, when I was perhaps freshly out of high school. I was celebrating something on a summer's night with two friends, and we were twirling around like kids with our sparklers, when a police officer pulled up, and insisted we let them extinguish and refrain from doing it further. It's sadly not the most ridiculous thing a police officer has asked of me in Flesherton, but in general I have a positive opinion of them.
I have lots of other strong sparkler memories and associations and am always pleased to discover another enjoys sparklers as much as me. They're now more a part of silly play than pure celebration. I guess I'd like to learn how to sparkle as memorably, but hopefully more permanently, than my favourite crackling stick of fire. (Oh, I love their fizzling sound!)
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