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My Battle with Modesty

WARNING: I'm not sure about the appropriateness of this for guys...so if you think it's bad, stop reading. Okay? I read Jay Lauser’s excellent post on A New Kind of Modesty (which you really, really, really should read, though I won’t post it up seven times like my big sister C’rissie :P) yesterday, and thought I would like to blog my struggle and weakness in that area for...encouragement? General opinion? Not quite sure, although it certainly wasn’t out of self consideration. :P Then I read C’rissie’s post connected with Jay’s, A Rant on Modesty ;), which you can read here . And decided that I felt too embarrassed after reading that, because they were both so good and covered the ground enough, so I wouldn’t. Well, this morning, I changed my mind. (Although after rereading it again just, with all the comments, I feel quite small about posting this...*hits send before I rethink*) It’s not too often that I gain a victory over my worldliness to be happy in the clothes I’m weari...
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VE Day 2020 - Historical Memories 75 Years On

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It's not the expected celebrations for the 75th anniversary of VE Day, marked as it is by social distancing, a lockdown under a global pandemic. Single global leaders or royalty, flanked by a few protective officers, lay wreaths whilst keeping a significant distance apart. Flypasts of Spitfires and Hurricanes - traditional WWII aircraft, followed by more modern 'British' aircraft - the Red Arrows and the Typhoons - over the four capitals of our United Kingdom - London, Cardiff, Edinburgh and Belfast. At 9pm tonight, Her Majesty the Queen will address the nation - the same time her father did 75 years ago. It's quiet on our neighbourhood; some of us came out to mark the 2 minute silence on the door, but nothing else planned. We have the red, white and blue up in our home in bunting and flags. In my sister's neighbourhood, flags and bunting are only the start; a social-distanced street party of people sitting on their separate front lawns has been arranged. It...
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Buy Me a Poppy

They sold them every year. People in green and brown clothes and people in blue, smiling, with a box around their necks or in their arms, full of small red paper flowers. Other people came up and put some money in the buckets they had on their arms, and walked away with a little red flower that they'd put on. 'Course, not everyone did it. My family was something Daddy called "pacifist", and he hated the people in green and blue. Every time he saw one of them, he'd call us together and herd us past them as fast as he could. Still, that didn't stop my sister and I looking. In the end, Marissa stopped looking. She said that Daddy was right, and it didn't really matter. After all, it was just a paper flower that people wore a few days and then forgot about. It didn't seem to matter that much to them, so why would it to us? I didn't care about what everybody else did. It was the people in green and blue that I watched. And they were there, year after ye...
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