Lettuce Rest

I've felt conflicted every ANZAC Day for the last few years. I want to take my children to the dawn service, but I'd want them to know what it's all about - which means (for me) talking to them about the way that people with power send other people to kill yet other people en masse for absolutely no good reason. Because it seems to me that that context is important to understand how - and why - the bravery and sacrifice of those who were sent is what we recognise and celebrate.

And I'm not going to do that to them for a few years yet. I like that they are children; joyous; foolish; innocent - and yes: unaware.

Anyway. I've thought about, and got emotional about, those sacrifices today, and some of my recognition can be thought of as being on my kids' behalf.

They went with songs to the battle, they were young.
Straight of limb, true of eye, steady and aglow.
They were staunch to the end against odds uncounted,
They fell with their faces to the foe.

They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old:
Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn.
At the going down of the sun and in the morning,
We will remember them.

They mingle not with their laughing comrades again;
They sit no more at familiar tables of home;
They have no lot in our labour of the day-time;
They sleep beyond England's foam

It's also the 6th anniversary of the most terrifying day of my life: my son's anaphylactic reaction. ANZAC Day is a bit of an emotional mix-up, really.

But here's a photo of my cat. This was one of the lettuce pots on our deck. She figures it makes a good bed.

Click to enkittehnate.