bichoose (bichoose) wrote,
bichoose
bichoose

VE Day Friday 8th May 2020.

" This is your Victory "..so spoke Churchill...75 years ago today...Time then,Time woz, so many rivers have passed so many tears have fallen.." life as we know it Jim " Star Treking...Lollipops from Kojac.." here's looking at you kid ". The years have roared by some better than others. Perhaps i am from the first generation that has not been pulled into army boots and sat in some trench in some field with a rifle and a hand full of bullets with the order to fire at will.
Yesterday whilst sitting in the garden in sunshine pouring across the Manchester Basin thinking Wow Gosh another sunny day almost unbelieveable, i had thoughts on this day..i did think or rising at 4.00am before dawn pulling on my walking boots and tramping up Werneth Low to watch the sun rise across the Manchester Basin to sit and ponder about the men for whom the cenotaph was built for, and how for my own vanity i have ended up living within two to three miles of this view across planet earth considering all the packing cases, schools, i have stood before with those words of this is the new boy ringing in my ears...how each twist of fate has thrown the rocks along lifes rocky road...i sat there watched the birds cavorte through the garden trees the floating of dandeloin seeds whispering through the air. I sat early evening and watched on that weird machine in the front room and for thirty minutes watched the life of Vera Lynn..in drifting pictures from old family albums, old soldiers trying to sing old words from her songs whom stumbled as tears rolled down their eyes....in old memories...there have been newspaper articles saying why are we still bringing up the war..with the writers saying this and that and that and this adding to the gloom of IT..causing half the country into lock down there was today going to be wild street parties parades and such and such but now sadly once more put in moth balls in case IT runs rampant through us all and all that will be left is a few mice and catterpillars to sing we'll meet again. Which means Old Donald would be perhaps sat in the white house in November on his own playing with barbie dolls and lego.
However in my madness i checked the weather forcast and sadly cloud coverd the rising dawn of this new day and thus here i sit in my busted bra and fishnet hold ups from 4.00am, thinking amongst things, as i wonder also did many transvestites fire at will all those years ago taking nothing from the bravery of those that did indeed give all, as i sit here at this machine...i will be going up the Low later this morning, i have hung out my union jack from this rooms window and later quietly will comtemplate with the help of a few chardonnay bubbles today 75 years ago and perhaps watch one or two old black and white films, with thoughts on the newspaper words of a load of old bollocks and think bollocks to them also, if only for those few old soldiers in the Vera Lynn programme.
Therefore to all whom pass this way love and peace and take extra care in these strange times...So Goeth..xx
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