Going off on a tangent (well this is what usually happens isn't it), our next door neighbour worked for
Corona in the days when they were delivered in wooden crates. He used to start saving broken crates for us round about the end of September beginning of October. Come Nov 5th we used to have a huge bonfire in the field behind the houses. Nothing tasted nicer than the jacket potatoes our mums roasted in that bonfire.
Memories, like the corners of your mind.
Not only a post, an earworm as well.