The White Poppy

So what are your thoughts on this: instead of wearing a red poppy, I'm toying with the idea of wearing a white one.

I thought it was a rather new-fangled idea, but apparently the white poppy has been around for quite awhile. Since 1933, according to the 'net; a women's guild in England started wearing them to symbolize their committment to peace. I like that.

I don't typically wear poppies of any colour for Remembrance Day. It just isn't my thing; I never wore an AIDS ribbon, or a Breast Cancer ribbon, or those little angels you sometimes see. I deeply appreciate the sacrifices made by so many not that long ago; heck, Grandpa Feick was a doctor in WWII. I just don't feel I need to wear a poppy to prove it. I don't usually care to attract attention to myself, but there's a wee little bit of the shit disturber in me (pardon my language) that likes the idea of wearing something that might invite conversation.

By wearing a white poppy, I'd run the risk of offending someone, somewhere. Which is not something I'm eager to do. But I am a fan of people talking about things, even in the grocery store line. I'm a fan of making conscious decisions instead of simply sticking a red poppy on my coat because that's what you're supposed to do this time of year. I don't want to disrespect those who "SUPPORT OUR TROOPS," anyone with family in the military or anyone who has lost someone to war; I just like the idea of wearing my peacenik proclivities on my sleeve, so to speak, and being willing to talk to anyone who asks me about it.

Thoughts?

Someday's gonna be a busy day

I was born in a small town, spent most of my life in a small city, recently moved to a rural community astride Lake Huron. Married for 10 years to a man I'd known since I was 16 who subsequently cheated on me with a mutual friend, divorced a month before my 35th birthday, married now to my true love, D. As I've whispered to him many times across the pillow, I didn't realize life could be this good.

D was born and raised up here on a dairy farm. My tiny family consists of my two sisters, father, grandmother and an estranged uncle, plus my aunt and three cousins in Nova Scotia and a swath of mostly unkonwn relations scattered throughout Russia. D's family is so big they have to rent the community centre - TWICE - to celebrate Christmas together. It's strange going to town and always meeting someone who knows me, that someone more than likely related to D in some way. There is no anonymity here; but I'm happy to trade that for the frank friendliness in people's faces.

We bought a 200 acre property, complete with barns, apple orchards, river, forest and big ramshackle house. Or, I should say, D's Dad bought everything and we'll sever off our 4 acres as soon as the township lets us. We're going to call it Someday Farm - since someday seems to be our key word. e.g. "Someday I'm gonna own land," "Someday I'm going to buy myself diamond earrings," "Someday, when we have a slew of kids running around here..." etc. My famous quote: "Someday's gonna be a busy day!"