We were relatively unscathed by fireworks this year. There is a good reason why 2018 has given me cause for concern over those pretty bombs people are buying.

My worry has nothing to do with safety. Although if fireworks had been introduced as a new invention nowadays, their creator would be shipped off to Guantanamo Bay quicker than Donald Trump on his way to judge a water-boarding contest.

Think about it. Fireworks are being sold with the intention of parents detonating explosives in their garden, in front of their impressionable kids. There’s your radicalisation of minors, right there – and as for burning Guy Fawkes on a fire…

No. My worry this year is about Roman and how he would react to the loud bangs. Some local moron let off a firework in September and he was left traumatised.

Luckily, it would appear that people can’t afford fireworks this year – lets blame Brexit – so either stayed at home, watching Strictly Come Dancing, or ventured into town for a professional display. If Brexit has indeed left people so poor that they can no longer afford to buy gunpowder, I think that I have discovered the first positive in leaving The EU.

No money means no fireworks, and no fireworks means no problems for our bunny. I think the late rapper, Notorious B.I.G. best described this situation when he said “Mo Money, Mo Problems”.

The only time I heard any real fireworks of note was at about 2.30am at the weekend. What arsehole lets them off then? Besides waking me up, there waa no harm done. I even checked Roman on the webcam. He was fine. As for Claire, she slept through it all. My friend, the tawny owl, was also heard for the first time since winter – either that, or they now make fireworks which go “twit twoo” instead of bang.

So that’s it. Bonfire Night over for another year, with no real events at all. How did I managed to blog 361 words about bugger all?

Mind you, saying nothing happened isn’t strictly true yet – there’s another 33 minutes left before midnight in the UK and over 5 and a half hours in Washington DC. Shit…