Do They Make Those In Tall? A.k.a Playing With Fireworks

I’m walking through a shop and I see a guy with a lovely tweed jacket, my first thought was why don’t they make those in tall.

I’m not against short boys, heaven knows that would make my life a lot more difficult but as a girl of 6′ something I do wish they made a lot more in tall.

Not just boys but dresses and shoes and houses.

I’m basically an elf and although I love who my am it’s not infrequent for me to be the person reaching things, intimidating men below my height quite accidentally and being asked “Can you see [my friend/bag/future]?” In clubs and daily life.

I spent a year in a city where my height was the first thing accounted for. Now living in a small Welsh village finally it’s not “Gosh your tall” but “Hello, what’s your name?”

It’s a relief but for once in my life I’d like a slightly higher mirror, a slightly taller cupboard and a sink I don’t have to bend down a little to reach.

Anyways, it’s Thursday aka my very own fire works night.

My dear grandma has made lobby (a northern stew type thing), my brother is jovial with the christmas lights he has put in the back of his car s he tells me he has sparklers…which in turn makes me very happy. So I’m going to put on my gloves, stop eating chocolate buttons and prepare for some childlike delight to flicker across my gaze as my heart is warmed with some beautiful home-made food.

Remember not the fifth or November but don’t forget to remember. Not treason or plot, just what you’ve got.

My heart bursts as flames in colour tear through the sky, never quite reaching me as they fall. The smell of hot dogs and the taste of a toffee apple permeates my scent, my taste until my senses are filled with the sounds of the season. It’s too soon for Christmas but not too soon to wrap up warm and enjoy the frost. Never forgetting what we’ve got. My tiny cousins growing to fast and the rest of the family are here, I’m home. One more night in a comfort that will never be gone. I’m grateful.




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