I remember Remembrance Day poppies from when I was in about grade 5 or so (1962 or thereabouts). They were printed on fuzzy/velvety stock with images of significant medals on the back. At that time they expected a donation of about 2 cents or so and that wasn't always easy to find.
Veterans of both "The Great War" and "WWII" were still numerous then and memory of the second world war was still fresh in our parents' memory. They had lived it, either as soldiers overseas or, more stressfully, as spouses, siblings, lovers, parents or children of combatants.
I can't help thinking just how lucky I was to grow up where I did and when I did. The military was an abstract thing to me, something Americans and primitive people resorted to.
My name is Jen and I look like that picture at all times. I enjoy appetizers as entrees, fountains choreographed to music and television shows intended for teenage girls. Oh - and I really dislike it when people spell it "Jenn"; it's practically a phobia.
Chuck Lorre Club "music" CUPCAKES Extremism Factory farming Fruit-flavoured teas Humid days Hypocrisy (EXCEPT MINE) Laugh tracks Mice Mob mentalities Mondays My typos PC policing Prop 8 Self-defecation Sexy Halloween costumes Snakes Social media obsession Sports highlights The Easily Offended The Easily Outraged The Humourless The Super Cynical
Need words? I'm a Toronto-based freelance writer who injects great ones into blogs, websites, magazines, ads and more. So many services, one lovely Jen (with one 'n').
1 comments:
I remember Remembrance Day poppies from when I was in about grade 5 or so (1962 or thereabouts). They were printed on fuzzy/velvety stock with images of significant medals on the back. At that time they expected a donation of about 2 cents or so and that wasn't always easy to find.
Veterans of both "The Great War" and "WWII" were still numerous then and memory of the second world war was still fresh in our parents' memory. They had lived it, either as soldiers overseas or, more stressfully, as spouses, siblings, lovers, parents or children of combatants.
I can't help thinking just how lucky I was to grow up where I did and when I did. The military was an abstract thing to me, something Americans and primitive people resorted to.
What a waste of lives and of human potential.
NO MORE WAR! NO MORE WAR!
Post a Comment