Anzac Day Service

I took my grandson to the dawn Anzac Service this morning, held at 6am at the Hobart Cenotaph.  It was a chilly morning with the sharp breeze rolling off the Derwent River.  Hundreds of people attended, many with small children like Zachary ensuring that the memory of those brave soldiers’ lives on in the minds of Australians into the future. 

A man nearby quietly sobbed as the “Ode of Remembrance” was spoken, his friend comforted him.  After the service I noticed him laying a wreath and his friends quietly surrounding him to show their support.  The ode is taken from the poem, “For the Fallen” was written by Laurence Binyon whilst sitting on the cliffs of Gallipoli in 1914.

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.

“Lest we Forget”

Straight after the “Last Post” is played by a lone bugler followed by a minutes’ silence which for me is the most moving part of the Service.

Zach loves going to the service and we chatted about the meaning and ceremony of it all afterwards.

  Carolyn

Back....finally

Hi for all those who follow my blog.

Well it has been a pretty ordinary three months for me health wise but I am now back at work full time and enjoying work for the first time in a long time.

Over the last few months I have spent heaps of time with my brother and his family and this has been the most enjoyable part of this period.   I have reconnected with loved ones who I had lost touch with and this has enlivened my spirit for the better.

I need to make a promise to myself that I will do my blog on a regular basis from now on so I can do what was intended in the first place, to tell the world all about me and my life.

Hope you are all having a safe and happy Easter break.

Carolyn

Carolyn

Happy Australia Day

My Country

By Dorothea Mackellar (1885 – 1968)

The love of field and coppice,

Of green and shaded lanes.

Of ordered woods and gardens

Is running in your veins,

Strong love of grey-blue distance

Brown streams and soft dim skies

I know but cannot share it,

My love is otherwise.

I love a sunburnt country,

A land of sweeping plains,

Of ragged mountain ranges,

Of draughts and flooding rains.

I love her far horizons,

I love her jewel-sea,

Her beauty and her terror –

The wide brown land for me!

A stark white ring-barked forest

All tragic to the moon,

The sapphire-misted mountains,

The hot gold hush of noon.

Green tangle of  the brushes,

Where lithe lianas coil,

And orchids deck the tree-tops

And ferns the warm dark soil.

Core of my heart, my country!

Her pitiless blue sky,

When sick at heart, around us,

We see the cattle die-

But then the grey clouds gather,

And we can bless again

The drumming of an army,

The steady, soaking rain.

Core of my heart, my country!

Land of the Rainbow Gold,

For flood and fire and famine,

She pays us back threefold-

Over the thirsty paddocks,

Watch, after many days,

The filmy veil of greenness

That thickens as we gaze.

An opal-hearted country,

A wilful, lavish land-

All you who have not loved her,

You will not understand-

Though earth holds many splendours,

Wherever I may die,

I know to what brown country

My homing thoughts will fly.

I learnt this poem in primary school and it just says so much of how I feel about Australia.

Carolyn

Allnighter!

Friday night, a couple of weeks ago I spent a delightful night with my dear cousin Jill.  Another cousin had sent Jill some family history stuff and invited me over to look at it.  Well we spent all night chatting about everything from family to house decor and history.  It was wonderful.  The night past so quickly and before we knew it, it was 8 o’clock in the morning.  I came home and slept most of the day but it was an evening well spent.

Carolyn