WW1 hanky

I don't know if Granddad Boo sent this hanky home with yesterday's card (or the one I'll blip tomorrow), or another note/parcel. He would have sent it home sometime between 1917 and 1919 during the 2 years and 158 days he spent overseas (either from France, Belgium or England when on leave).

It is incredibly fine almost gossamar like. I guess my Great Grandmother would have used it for show only on Sunday's and special occasions. Or maybe she just held it up and looked at and thought of her son in the fields of Flanders.

My blip barely does it justice. It is the finest silk imaginable with fine embroidered flowers and scalloped edges, all by hand of course. I imagine it was quite expensive and possibly something quite rare in NZ at that time. Up close it has the smallest amount of flocking (brown spots) but it has kept amazingly well.

Mum served as my model. As you can see the weather was great with the lightest of breeze and amazingly warm at 4.30pm when I blipped. (For those keeping an eye on my post-surgery fashion crimes I wore frog boxers and club running t-shirt claiming I ran 1500km during the 2004 season - bit ironic right now don't you think?! ;-)

For those who missed the earlier blips in this series of war mementos.

1. WW1 shrapnel

2. Sent from France, 1918

There is a slight but discernable improvement today. I'm living in the moment and not thinking too far ahead. I'm grateful to have had a smoother and more consistent time today. I'm feeling very tired but better for not having taken the heavy drug that leaves me feeling stoned. My brain only gets to semi mush, not full mush on the other drugs I'm stuck with :-)

What I'm most pleased about today is I've weathered frustrating news. Things that should have been settled before surgery and which I understood were. But I know it's not a battle to fight so I've chosen to let it go. It has practical impacts on me but I can choose how I respond.

I remain thankful, optimistic, strong, clear and deep. Can't ask for more than that (other than the good grace to just live in the moment, one day at a time).