I don’t clap for the carers. Can’t see how it helps someone. I donate instead.

Presumably because I won’t follow the herd, someone took exception to me not hooting, hollering, tooting, banging pan lids and the like and this evening, chose to express their annoyance by firing a firework across the field at me.

It hit one of my ponies, bounced off him, then hit the wall of the wooden stables.

The thought of what would have happened had they been locked in for the night and it landing on the bitumen roof and setting it alive, doesn’t bear thinking about.

Has mob mentality now taken over so that it is perfectly acceptable to endanger life because you don’t think they are joining in with everyone else?

As it happens, I’m not like everyone else and I have never followed the herd. I’m on the autism spectrum.

I suppose years ago, angry villagers would have dragged me out of my home and burned me at the stake for being different. Here in Tydd St Giles, they just shoot fireworks at me.

Of course, what people don’t know is that instead of meaningless clapping, I donate a fiver to the NHS charity.

You see, I don’t feel the need to tell anyone, nor post proud photos of my donation on social media or tell the world how good I am.

Apparently though, I must, otherwise I will get attacked.

A couple of distressed NHS workers have come home to find their pets in a distressed state from the fireworks. What sort of “thank you” is that?

So how about, instead of buying fireworks, send the money to NHS Charities Together.

I don’t suppose you will though. You like fireworks, and all you have to do is be like everyone else and stand banging your saucepan to be one of the herd and accepted.

If you want your spent rocket back, come and get it. I can give you the vet bill at the same time.

Pam Thompson, Tydd St Giles