Anzac Day

Dug ourselves out of our respective beds at (arggh!) 3 o'clock this morning to attend the dawn service in Anzac Square. And what a wonderful turnout! Ginette, Lily Prune and I arrived smack on time to find the place overflowing with people and ended up right down the back on Adelaide Street where we couldn't see a thing; but it didn't matter, because even the labrador next to us was utterly still for the half-hour and we heard every word. It was beautiful to stand there united in the bitter cold and watch the sky lighten around us as the bugle calls rang around the skyscrapers. And I held it together (usually find these things very emotional) ... until, filing past the flame, I bent down to read a card attached to one wreath - "For Poppy, with love from Jack" - with dates of birth and death. What kind of world is it when someone's Poppy can be taken away so I can go home and sleep in peace until midday?