Spring continues apace. Pear blossom opened in less than twenty-four hours last weekend. And today I saw that the apple blossom buds are swollen to bursting point. This will keep the bumble bees round here busy. There have been quite a few around, including half a dozen which have flown in through our open kitchen window. One or two have needed help to escape back outside.
Another sign of spring is that the groundsman has been working on the cricket pitch. First of all he put the heavy roller over the cricket square itself. He sat on the big machine and rolled backwards and forwards for about four hours in the sunshine. Then the day before yesterday he got out his brilliant sit-on mower and drove all round the outfield cutting the grass down to within half an inch of its life. Perhaps next week he'll start to mow the cricket square.
Yesterday I was amazed to hear about the grotesque scheme in America to incorporate unidentified remains of people killed in the Twin Towers disaster of 9/11 in a Memorial Museum being built on Ground Zero. When you think about soldiers who die on active service, they are buried in proper cemeteries, even when they are unidentified and 'only known to God'. There are separate memorials to them away from the cemeteries which never incorporate their remains. What are the Powers-That-Be thinking of in New York? I would have thought a separate, dignified memorial monument in front of the Memorial Museum would be the most appropriate way of remembering all the dead and injured from that disaster.
At the moment I am writing a group of stories called Bedlam. They describe one person's experience of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder as well as several other stories about less stressful events. One is about a Protestant child attending a Catholic school who is told by a priest that not only is she a heathen/pagan but that she will go straight to HELL because she wasn't baptised as an infant. Oh dear!
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