I cried

I couldn't help myself. I was watching the ceremony at the Cenotaph on BBC1 this morning.

I know it's important to remember. I know well the phrase "to forget the mistakes of the past is to repeat them"

That said, I couldn't help but have tears in my eyes to see the old men in wheelchairs, who have been in POW camps; the teens among the groups of older soldiers with a row of medals on the right side of the chest - a testimony to the fact that their parent served and died, that they no longer have a parent; the women who wore their husband's medals.

It hurts, you know? How people are prepared to obey orders even if it means they may lose their life, and the people who have what it takes to give those orders. I find it hard killing rodent vermin that get brought into my house. Trying to get my head around the fact that there are people who have to be prepared to kill others in the protection of freedom is beyond my comprehension.

Rant over. On to better subjects.

I'm having a David Attenborough overdose today, mostly because I can't see anything else I fancy, and the opportunity to see the natural world from my sofa is not to be missed. I can own up to being able to watch something other than EMHE and the news!

I've managed to get all the laundry done, and the washing up is getting cleared, but my hands are really wishing for a dishwasher, or more specifically the space to put one, so I don't have to do the dishes by hand all the time! Oh well, I can keep dreaming...