the aussie empty nester
living a new life without the kids while having to adjust to chronic pain.
Wednesday, May 1, 2024
Regular checking
Saturday, April 27, 2024
Blessed
Grandpa and his girls
Trying to get the alpacas to come and say hi
Back instead relaxing watching bluey
A pic out of order lol
The two younger girls are especially close
The older and more mature granddaughter was knitting on the couch with grandma
It was a wild day full of fun and laughter
Thursday, April 25, 2024
ANZAC Day 2024
The Ode
The Ode of Remembrance is a poem that is commonly recited at Anzac Day services to commemorate wartime sacrifice.
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.
The Ode comes from For the Fallen, a poem by English poet and writer Laurence Binyon. The poem was first published in The Times on 21 September 1914. It was later published in the Winnowing Fan - Poems of the Great War.
By mid-September 1914, less than seven weeks after the outbreak of war, the British Expeditionary Force in France had already suffered severe casualties. Long lists of the dead and wounded appeared in British newspapers. It was against this background that Binyon wrote For the Fallen.
The Ode is the fourth stanza of the poem. The verse, which became the League Ode, was already used in association with Anzac Day commemoration services in Australia in 1921.
For the Fallen
With proud thanksgiving, a mother for her children
England mourns for her dead across the sea,
Flesh of her flesh they were, spirit of her spirit,
Fallen in the cause of the free.
Solemn the drums thrill: Death august and royal
Sings sorrow up into immortal spheres,
There is music in the midst of desolation
And glory that shines upon our tears.
They went with songs to the battle, they were young,
Straight of limb, true of eyes, 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 daytime,
They sleep beyond England's foam.
But where our desires and hopes profound,
Felt as a well-spring that is hidden from sight,
To the innermost heart of their own land they are known
As the stars are known to the night.
As the stars shall be bright when we are dust,
Moving in marches upon the heavenly plain,
As the stars that are starry in the time of our darkness,
To the end, to the end, they remain.
- Written by Robert Laurence Binyon (1869-1943)
LEST WE FORGET
Wednesday, April 24, 2024
A tale of three lounges
It arrived today and it’s all set up
Word of mouth. Is the best advertising
Monday, April 22, 2024
Gorilla gardening
And then slowly it was lifted into the air
A final bit of help getting all branches over the fence and the job was done
Hubby then trimmed it back and planted it into the ground.
Sunday, April 21, 2024
Weekend
Yesterday was art day and we started a new paining. Its always exciting and a little daunting when we start something new
Tuesday, April 16, 2024
Getting stuff done
The rest of the bulbs went into the garden in front of the window I can see while sitting inside.
And in here we have sugar beets I think they’ll make a nice change to toasted potatoes
And now it’s back to this. I had put aside my hexi cardigan as I was waiting on yarn from Denmark.
So apart of going to the doctors today. To get my scripts. I’ll be working in this.