Flash! Aaahhh!

Guy Fawkes’ night (or weekend) passed far better than I ever dared hope. That desensitisation CD seems to have worked wonders. They all noticed that the fireworks were going off, but even Piglet wasn’t as totally panicked as he used to be. True, he was sticking to us like glue, and trembling, but he didn’t wet himself, and Beattie just lay with her head on my foot instead of trying to dig through the floor. Friday night was the worst because everyone was having their own private party, but on Saturday, when the Junior School two fields away was having its big display, it rained. Oh dear. *chuckles*