Poppies at the Gate

 Today is Remembrance Day. To commemorate, I am sharing a picture of the poppies on the fence at the entrance of the biggest local park. Every november they put it by the gate of the park, since at least 2020. This picture dates back from 2021, as we haven't been to the park in a long while. But anyway, I thought it was the proper way to commemorate the 11th of November.

La tasse des coquelicots

Ma femme a reçu en cadeau de fête de ses parents l'année dernière cette tasse artisanale en céramique, avec des coquelicots dessus. Et avec un sous-verre (sous-tasse?) assorti. C'est une tasse parfaite pour le Jour du Souvenir. Elle l'utilise rarement d'ailleurs, sauf au mois de novembre, notamment à cause des coquelicots, mais aussi parce qu'elle est assez imposante et qu'elle ne peut pas juste placer ça dans un coin étroit. On ne veut pas la perdre comme on en a perdu tant, c'est une tasse des grands jours.

The 11th Hour

I left the blog about Remembrance Day to the eleventh hour, when the Armistice was signed. I was idle and I procrastinated, however to my defense I would say that this is a fitting time for this post. And to commemorate, I share this picture taken from the Facebook page of the British Museum. They shared it today to commemorate Remembrance Day. It was made back in 1779by British artist Mary Delany (I know nothing about her). I have more poppies to share, but these ones will do for now.

Poppies without needles

 I went to buy poppies a few days afo, as soon it will be Remembrance Day. You may know that I have an issue with poppies, or more precisely the pin used to hold them. But this year, I did not go for the traditional paper poppies, even though I am a traditionalist at heart. I went for two that can be pinned and one that can be hooked on a coat's zipper or something like that. It is much safer, especially for someone with hands full of thumbs like myself. So I can finally wear the darn thing.

"Lest we forget"

Today is Remembrance Day. So I am sharing a picture of the gates of our local park, covered with poppies. "Lest we forget." I will not say more. I don't think it is necessary.

Gate of poppies

 We had a walk recently and we visited the biggest (and nicest) park of our town. This time of year, its gate is always covered with poppies, which I find really cute. They are crocheted or knitted and they look lovely. They give colour to dreary days. And it is a reminder (if one needed reminding) that Remembrance Day is imminent.

Purple Poppies

I mentioned yesterday that we took a walk in the local park, where the fences have been covered by poppies. Red poppies and blue poppies. Being a bit short on time when I wrote the post and horribly lazy, I published the picture of the wall of poppies without checking what the blue poppies meant. Rachel Lucas (AKA Mozart's Girl) commented that the blue poppies are to commemorate the work and sacrifice of the serving animals in wartime. A very kind and thoughtful gesture, as animals have been used and are still used at war and have been the victims of wars. My wife also told me that I should have asked her before posting, because she knew already. Anyway, I managed to do a bit of research after publishing the post and it appears that the colour is not blue but actually purple, it is a purple poppy. For more information on the various remembrance poppies seen on Remembrance Day and their significance, please read this article from the BBC. And I hope you will all commemorate today.

A wall of poppies

There are poppies everywhere these days, which put some crimson colours in November and it is quite pretty. We went to a walk this weekend to a local park, and its fences had been covered by poppies, mostly red, but one row of blue ones (I am sure it means something, but can't be bothered to look it up right this minute. This small English town, like many English towns, take Remembrance Day very seriously.

100 years of World War I

As you most likely all know (or I sure hope so), today is the 11th of November, thus Remembrance Day and it is also the 100th year anniversary of the end of World War I. That day of the year when I struggle to keep a poppy on, to reduce something very solemn to something very trivial. To commemorate this very important anniversary, I have decided to upload with this post this poppy made by my wife and my son in his art class recently. A large paper poppy on display in the house in a pot, it is far better than wearing it and losing it due to my ineptitude to use a pin. Anyway, this is my way of commemorating. For a thoughtful post about war and the sacrifices of men and women who fought in it, please read this post from 2008. As for WWI itself, I have little to say about it that is really profound and I don't like spouting commonplaces if I can avoid it. I will just say here that it was meant to be the last.

Les coquelicots

Ce sera bientôt le Jour du Souvenir, ce qui veut direqu'on verra des coquelicots partout, pour marquer la fin de la Première guerre mondiale, qui aura cent ans cette année. Dans la classe d'art plastique de petit loup, on a d'ailleurs fait des coquelicots pour le 11 novembre, notamment comme ça, avec une roche. Je dois dire que je trouve ça assez mignon et j'ai donc décidé de partager la photo de son oeuvre sur le blogue ce soir.

The Day of the Pin

It was Remembrance Day today, which means making sure one has a poppy on display. I have issues with poppies, or rather with the needle: I cannot keep the darn thing on. I blogged about it back in 2014. So in many ways, it becomes for me the Day of the Pin, where I try to fix it on my jumper or coat, prickle myself and lose the darn poppy. Then I buy another one, until I lose it, then another one, and so on and so forth. Today, my wife and I discovered that we had forgotten to buy one, we quickly did at the earliest occasion. But I decided against taking pins with them. We have a very young child who puts everything in his mouth after all, and I'd rather be careful. And that was an excuse not to be forced to fix it on. Now all I need to do is find a way to put the poppy on display without the pin. Any suggestions?

Time for poppies

It is Remembrance Sunday today, a fittingly grey and gloomy Sunday. I have not much to say about it, except that I will try this year to keep my poppy on, although I always struggle. I said yesterday that November here is the month of fireworks, but it is not quite true: it truly is the month of the poppy. They are everywhere: in shops, in the street where they are sold by army cadets or veterans and of course on the everybody's coat or shirt. For a while at least, because I am not the only one struggling to keep the poppy on, apparently. Back in 2008, I blogged about In Flanders Fields, the poem by John McCrae which inspired the tradition of paper poppies. Today, I have decided to share a short documentary video made by The Royal British Legion telling the story of the tradition. Since I cannot keep a poppy on due to a hand full of thumbs, I can at least do this much to commemorate and remember.

Un mardi comme un autre

C'était le Jour du Souvenir aujourd'hui. On le commémore beaucoup ici, enfin surtout le dimanche. À la onzième heure, j'étais au travail comme d'habitude et je n'ai même pas songé à la minute de silence, même si j'avais le droit de l'observer. Et je n'ai même pas porté de coquelicot (parce que). Alors voilà, c'était un mardi comme un autre. Même si nous sommes le centième anniversaire de la Première guerre mondiale. J'ai un peu honte de dire que c'était un mardi comme un autre.

The poppy and the needle

This is a trivial post about a non trivial subject. For something more thoughtful, you might want to read this post from 2008. Today is/was Remembrance Day. It is actually Remembrance Sunday, as it is Sunday. And like most years, while I had a poppy, I did not wear it. I know I should, but at some point something happens and I lose it or it drops or out of frustration I stop wearing it. It is very simple really: it is all the needle's fault. Every year, I buy a poppy, sometimes more as I lose the first one, then I struggle to put it on. I am rubbish with that darn needle: it does not hold the paper poppy very well, or at all, then it does not stay on me anyway. So the needle ends up prickling my skin and letting the red flower go. They should invent something else to hold it, some pegs or something of the sort. So my respect towards the sacrifices of a dead generation is thwarted by a stupid needle and my own clumsiness.

Le temps mort de novembre

On sera le Jour du Souvenir demain. Dans moins d'une heure en fait. Ca m'est venu à l'esprit: je porte un coquelicot pour les circonstances. Au Québec, je ne le soulignais même pas, à croire que c'est un truc que j'ai adopté, ou dont j'ai été imprégné ici. À part cela, c'est le calme plat. Ce qui m'a fait penser: novembre, c'est aussi un peu beaucoup monotone. Il ne s'y passe pas grand-chose. Même ses fêtes sont plus souvent qu'autrement austères. C'est un mois de temps mort. Suis-je le seul à le penser?

I almost forgot Remembrance Day

It was Remembrance Day yesterday, I thought about it during the day at some moment, but it was in the back of my mind and I didn't blog about it. I blogged about oysters, a most profane subject. Last week I bought a poppy, lost it, bought another one, lost it. I will need to buy another one. I find it difficult to remember Remembrance Day, as I never grew up observing it. Maybe it is because I never been in a war and what I know of war is through the TV screen. But now that I have a number of friends in the army, I try to at least remember it. And until tomorrow, I will buy poppies again.

Paper Poppy

In Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, 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 from 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.

In Flanders Fields, by John McCrae

It is Remembrance Sunday today. I have never been very aware of it. That is, until I started dating my wife. Now, on her initiative, I buy a paper poppy which is sold everywhere in England. Before that, all I knew about the poppy flower and John McCrae's poem was the dreadful History by the Minute episode that was so ridiculously solemn and laughably patriotic, to the point of being obscene (like most of the episodes of this propaganda program). Now I have friends in the army, so I am more sensitive/sensible to the work and sacrifice of the people in the army. I now like the simplicity of the poppy, like a drop of blood on a grey November day, beautiful in its mourning sadness.