Lest We Forget

This morning I watched the Remembrance Sunday service at the Cenotaph and was, in no particular order:

a) spellbound by the military precision of the event, seemingly down to the last second;

b) impressed by the stamina, not only of the Queen and the Chookie Embra, both in their 90s, but also of the thousands of ex-servicemen and -women (most of them very elderly) standing waiting for ages to take part in the march-past; and

c) incredibly moved by the individual stories of bravery and heroism.

Apologies for the blip stolen from the television screen.


It has been a miserably dreich day here, so I have been no further than the wood shed to stock up on logs for tonight's fire.