Lest We Forget

November 11th is approaching, a time to reflect on past wars and remember those who gave the ultimate sacrifice.

My motivating spirit had 3 great-uncles who fought in WWII, all of whom were fortunate enough to return home to their friends and family. Last year, the last of the great-uncles passed away, one of whom had the most interesting story to tell about his experience in WWII.

Uncle Pat never did talk about what happened. My motiviating spirit knew he had been injured, receiving schrapnel in his leg, but other than that, he didn't talk about it and no one really pushed him into talking. So, it was not until his funeral, that all was revealed.

The day after Pat's birthday, he joined countless other young men in the Normandy invasion. He stormed the beaches with many of his friends and peers. He was injured when he was trying to get a friend of his to safety, unsuccessfully. After he was injured, he was shipped to a hospital in England in an unconcious state, but somehow he was not listed with the injured and was put on the MIA list instead. For months no one back home, nor his two brothers overseas with him knew where he was or what became of him. His eldest brother, Rex, risked life and limb himself, looking for him, avoiding capture by the German troops, missing landmines and he finally located him and sent word home.

Remembrance Day has always been an important day to my motivating spirit. It is not a day that should be taken lightly or brushed off. Real sacrifices were made, real lives lost. It is a day to reflect, remember and learn how perhaps we today can do things differently to avoid such costs. Having said that though, sometimes war is the only answer, after all other measures have failed.

For those of us in SL, I have taken the liberty of making a wearable poppy and a wreath (which is a tad primmy, I apologize). You can find them at Rosehaven Recipes. The poppy box is on the table inside the bakery and the wreath is in the window and they are both free. I believe my beloved will also be offering a lower prim wreath, for those who have tight prim budgets.


In Flanders Fields ~ by Lieutenant Colonel John McCrae, Canadian Army (1872-1918)

In Flanders Fields the poppies blow,
Between the crosses, row on row
That mark our place; and in the sky,
A lark still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below

We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow
Loved and were loved
And now we lie in Flanders Fields

Take up our quarrel with the foe,
To you with failing hands we throw
The Torch, be yours to hold it high
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders Fields

Open This End First

The day has dawned with a slight breeze and the birds of Loch Avie singing happily from their nests in the trees. I am sitting outside of Edward's tent as I write this, sipping on a cup of tea and enjoying toast with a soft boiled egg to break my fast.

Why am I out in the elements, "roughing it" in the wilds do you ask? The answer, dear reader, is rather complex and convoluted, but I will do my best to cast some light upon this.

It all started Monday evening when Sir Edward and I decided to meet with friends at The Falling Anvil, a very popular gathering spot in Caledon. We had arranged to meet at 8pm, but due circumstances beyond our control (namely Sir Edward having been asked to be in the "Exotic Men of Caledon" photo shoot and Miss Poppy taking his picture, with the photo shoot running a tad late due to lag and crashing) we were a little bit late. When we arrived, we heard reports that the members of the Blue team arrived upon bouncing cows (for milkshakes perhaps??) and hoo'ing until, well, the cows came home. Lt. Col. Hotspur O'Toole had decided to test out his new mount, an ostrich, that night as well, which is swift and speedy, but I didn't hear if it bounced or not.

Discussion ensued about which end of an egg is the correct one to open to enjoy the tasty morsels enclosed within the shell. Everyone who is anyone knows that the little end is the proper end to open. Only people with terrible co-ordination, poor fine motor skills or arthritis would even bother to open the large end first. As well, anyone with an ounce of sense knows that the egg naturally wants to sit upright, so therefore, the little end is also the most logical end. It astounds me that there are people in this day and age who are so patently ignorant of the correct way of doing things. Have they not read "Mrs. Beeton's"? Any ettiquette manual will tell you the same as well.

A friendly wager was stated by Col. Scaggs, the leader of the charming, but errant Blue team, the funds of which will go to the SLRFL (the whole reason for this "war"). He suggested one hundered thousand dollars. I do hope he has come from money or is sitting on a very tidy sum in his bank account as he will need it.....big end indeed!

So, here we sit today, at camp, which we set up last night. Loch Avie is such a lovely location and it has ample space for the troops to do their drills and practice whatever manuevers they need to do. Of course, it is tastefully outfitted and appointed, in a manner embraced by any civilised person. I am rather looking forward to this endeavour....the fresh air and comaraderie will be a nice change from being cooped up in the kitchen.

On a side note, and totally unrelated to the war, my dear friend Miss Emilly Orr had her rez day party last night, held in the newly opened Taiyou House in Steelhead City. It was a lovely party, with my beloved providing the music for part of the evening. Mr. Fawkes Allen made a most unusual and interesting cake that screamed...most peculiar, I think I'll let him corner the market on that type of cake *grins*. It was a lovely party and I wish Miss Em another wonderful year (but hopefully less stressful) in SL and a success with Taiyou House (the bordello in Steelhead for those of you who aren't sure).

Warning: Grains of Salt Required...perhaps the whole bag!

I have been mulling over the war as of late, thinking about some of the things that have happened to those I count among my friends because of it. Many of my good friends are quite heavily involved with this fundraising project, and one person who is very near and dear to me as well. I am rather discouraged with the responses they have had to their efforts and work, to the point where one person has been physically accosted while out shopping in Steelhead.

While I realize that not everyone shares the same point of view on this "war" (and really, isn't variety the spice of life?), I find that the escalation of attacks on these people who have spent vast amounts of their time to arrange, co-ordinate, plan, rehearse and otherwise have given a pound of flesh for this project disturbing. The bottom line is that this "war" (and yes, war is hell, but please....it happens all the time, usually not nicely scripted and following rules of conduct) is to raise money for a noble and worthwhile cause. I am also disheartened at the amount of people who, and pardon my choice of words, are whining that they were a) not consulted on this, b) were not asked to be involved in this c) disagree with this, so therefore it should not happen or d) think they know better than everyone else and therefore should be called in for their "expert" opinion. To my knowledge, no one involved with this war is a 4 star general or a military strategy planner. At the end of the day, this is a GAME. Surely to goodness there are far more pressing issues to be found at hand than these! I feel for the volunteers who have put forth such effort to be called down, ridiculed, belittled and even attacked by others.

I do realise this post is coming off as a bit of a rant, but so be it. Perhaps it is my own experiences as a volunteer in RL that are driving this, I do not know, but I do know that a good way to kill your community spirit and make your volunteers to quit is to critizise them, pick their efforts apart, attack, whine and complain with a self-righteous look upon your face. The ironic thing is, it is usually those same persons who are the first to raise the cry of "There's nothing to do! Why doesn't anyone plan something???"

I honestly don't know if there will be another event of this magnitude in Caledon. Perhaps time will dull some of the hurt and aggravation. I know lessons have been learned from this, but whether the group of people who are behind this venture will plan another is anyone's guess.

I suppose the bottom line is this....if you are one of those people who have been more of a stumbling block than a stepping stone, it's time to take a good look at your actions. Wouldn't more be accomplished if you held your tongue, said some words of encouragement (and really, even something like "Thank you for raising money for cancer" would be great...I'm not asking anyone to start loving war or fights or such...this is about fighting cancer) and then perhaps offered to help, even in a "behind the scenes" sort of way for the next event? I am reminded of something my 4th grade teacher said to us as a class..."When you point a finger at someone else, there are 3 pointing back at you". To those of you who have gamely played along with this, even if you aren't into roleplay, I thank you. This isn't everyone's cup of tea, but I'm sure with some common respect, we can all co-exist together on the grid.

*steps off of her soap box*

That is all, thank you.

Traitors, Poisons, Worry and Strife...with a serving of Cake

Now that my dearest Edward is resting comfortably, after his recent and most upsetting injury, I have a few moments to put pen to paper and try and make sense of the happenings of the past few days.

I made it to the ball a little late, due to the train running behind schedule, but it was apparent as I entered the doors of Carntaigh Court that the festivities were in full swing and the mood was light and cheerful. I soon spotted my dearest Sir Edward, looking ever so dashing in his uniform and he claimed me for a few waltzes. It had been so long since we had waltzed and it was wonderful to do so again. They were using a dance card system at this dance, but I had not put mine out yet...most novel idea those dance cards. Everyone was in their finery and the Kaiserine was there as well, looking charming in her lovely red gown.

After a couple of dances, Sir Edward danced with Miss Kelley and then he took the Kaiserine herself for waltz. It was then that the trouble started. Colonel Hotspur O'Toole and his band of hot headed ruffians stormed the court and claimed that they were there on behalf of "The Great and Glorious Leader Shang". I cannot believe Govenor Shang would be involved with such riff raff!!!! The crowd was shocked into silence as they read off a long list of trumped up (and no doubt ficticious) charges against the Kaiserine. Colonel O'Toole then ordered that saucy little chit, Miss Hermoinie Pennyfeather to attack Sir Edward, which she did....with a poisoned blade! What a low, cheap and underhanded thing to do!! My outrage at such an act cannot be adequately conveyed with words alone.

As Edward fell to the ground, I was in a state of shock and unable to move....I remember shrieking and running to his side after O'Toole and his band of misfit ruffians kidnapped the Kaiserine and spirited her off to parts unknown. Luckily, Miss Figaro was at hand with some of her herbs which I think helped Edward to survive his wounds. We left for Loch Avie, where he has been attended to and he's been given a mechanical orb to assist him with his duties as he recovers from his ordeal. If I ever see O'Toole or Pennyfeather....well, they will know what a woman's wrath is about.

As well, word reached me while I was in Caledon that my brother Lunar had taken ill and was being attended to by his partner, Miss Tensai. I was very concerned for him....his elven blood causes him to have ailments that I've never heard of and have less idea what to do about. He seems to be feeling better now though, for which I am thankful.

I'm sure in light of recent acts, there will be war now. I fear for Edward....if anything happens to him, I don't know what I will do. It has been suggested that his arm might not recover fully....he may have to have a mechanical one. This is of little consequence to me, the loss of his arm is nothing compared to losing him to a sniper's bullet or the cannonfire of war. I can't think of this anymore right now...the worry will make me sick.

I will have to busy myself with the preparations of my bakery. I am going to open a small shop in Steelhead, selling cakes, cookies, doughnuts and such. I hope to expand my inventory in time, but it's a start. At any rate, busying myself with baking will help keep my mind off other worries. I imagine Edward will want to remain in Caledon until this is over and I cannot leave his side....may this end quickly and swiftly, for everyone's sake.

Spring Cleaning and the Promise of Peace

Today I was quite busy being very domestic. Spring, with it's delightful breezes and warm sunshine, prompted me to give Rosehaven a good and thorough cleaning. I dusted down the furniture, beat the carpets, shook out the draperies and otherwise returned it to it's neat and tidy appearance. I even took the liberty of tidying Mr. Abel's lair, dusting his many artifacts and works of art and making sure his supply of towels and such were in good repair. I hadn't heard from him in some time and I hoped he was managing well with his explorations.

The post came and I noticed a letter from my beloved, Mr. Pearse. How good it was to see his bold, yet neat hand on a letter addressed to me. He had been busy with the war effort in Caledon, and as such, did not accompany me to Steelhead this time. I settled myself on the porch swing and opened his letter, looking forward to his news with delight and great anticipation.

Of course, a great deal of the letter was tender sentiments which I'm sure will not interest gentle readers such as yourselves. However, he did mention a Reconcilliation ball being held this evening and he hoped I would be able to attend. What wonderful news! The war will not happen now that both sides have decided to meet together and work out their differences. I breathed a sigh of relief, the knot in my stomach loosening as the worry of my dear Edward being wounded (or possibly worse) in the event of a war slipped away. This is good news indeed.

Noting the time of the ball, I quickly changed into a dress suitable for travel and caught the next train back to Caledon. Hopefully I will be able to steal away from the Ball in Carntaigh to attend the Masquarade in Steelhead as well. Let the celebrations begin!